Play still matters at Playmatters

Back in the 1950s -- or sometime in a past that probably never existed -- Mrs. Johnson would invite all the neighborhood moms and kids over, and she'd serve cake and coffee and the kids would go off and play.

But Mrs. Johnson isn't around anymore, if she was ever around to begin with.

So modern moms might head to Playmatters in Greenwood/Phinney. I've visited twice, and it seems like others feel similarly: Parents, grannies, and nannies sit along the bench, drinking the free coffee and chatting. Kids busy themselves with the extremely clean train table, kitchen, dollhouse, Lego table and puppet theater. Books are in low-bench bins, and droolicious toys entertain the crawlers.

"Children are so busy in this day and age," says owner Val Anker. "There are so many structured activities, and not as much opportunity to just play."

And Anker should know -- she's worked as a doula, family coach and teacher for 18 years. She wants to offer stress-free space so caregivers can network with one another while the kids self-entertain, an antidote for overscheduled lives.

The room is cozy, but larger than my cramped home's living room and kitchen combined. A train table would never fit in my house, unless I gave up the dining room table; mmm, who put Thomas in the spaghetti sauce?

And Playmatters offers plenty of trains and track, preventing toddler throwdowns over the sole engine. Our visits to a certain large chain bookstore's table have been pretty ugly, as of late.

And free Wi-Fi for caregivers is nice, if I don't feel so social on any given day. Plugs are high on the wall to prevent injury to inquisitive kids, so I make sure my laptop's battery has plenty of juice.

Admittedly, Playmatters is following in troubled footsteps: In the past year, both Seattle's Urban Monkeys and Bellevue's Child's Play Cafe closed their doors for good. And the beloved community center playrooms offer tough competition -- for only $2 per visit.

"So what makes me think I'm different?" Anker asks wryly. She hopes that her two years of research into kids' spaces will pay off.

As a result, Anker greets each family personally (instead of relying on employees), scrubs down toys nightly with eco-sanitizers for cleanliness, will switch out toys to keep interest high and allows in outside food and drink. She plays jazz music (no Alvin and the Chipmunks or Barney) and appears genuinely enthusiastic about kids and their parents.

What's next? Anker hopes to establish an empire of Playmatters spots throughout Seattle. And if she offers vanilla buttercream cake, I'll probably never go home again.

Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company