On any given Tuesday, you’ll find it generally the same around these parts. Laundry needs washing (and truthfully, more loads still need to be packed away), dinner needs to be figured out, school was finished for the day by 11 a.m., and my boys declared that there was absolutely nothing to do.
When they were smaller, I would’ve jumped into entertainer mode, breaking out paints, signing them up for activities, snacks, the whole nine yards. Everyone has a breaking point, and I had officially reached mine. Instead of planning their day, I told them, “You’ll figure it out.”
Cue the dramatic flopping on the couches and sad faces of stimulation-deprived children.
As I brewed another latte and braced for impact, something beautiful happened. The whining eventually turned into couch forts, with pillows and blankets flying. It spiraled into imaginative play, narrating stories, giggling, and team building.
In my genuine efforts to give them everything, I had deprived them of something sacred: the gift of their own imagination.
We live in a world that glorifies being busy. Sports, activities, lessons, screens, it’s all so loud. (I could write an entire article alone on why I’ve let sports go.) But that Tuesday taught me that boredom is where creativity is born, where kids learn to problem-solve, dream, and connect (both to others and to themselves). It will help kids learn to sit without constantly needing screens.
Now, when the kids mention having “nothing to do,” I smile because I know what’s coming next isn’t a meltdown, it’s magic.
Sometimes the best thing we can give our kids isn’t more to do, it’s just space to be.
And if the kids need a change of scenery, look no further than right here. Sometimes the adventure they’re looking for is right here waiting for them to imagine it.
