Why do I always run the game instead of playing it?

You set up the game, explain the rules, blow the whistle — then step to the side and watch. Your kids play. You supervise. Somewhere along the way you decided this was the whole shape of your job. Nasreddin once ran the sack race at a village wedding. He lined up the children, tied the sacks, shouted 'Go!' — then stood with his hands behind his back, very serious, very official. An old woman called out, 'Hodja, get in a sack yourself!' He said, 'Someone must watch that the rules are kept.' She said, 'The rule is: hop and fall down laughing.' He looked at his own two feet for a long moment. They did not move. With a partner or a pod, this splits into fixed jobs — one of you always the referee, one always in the game — until nobody remembers it was ever a choice. The line you drew between arranging and playing was never a wall. It only looks like one because you've stood at it so long.