“Which camps did you sign the kids up for this summer?” my friend asked recently.
“Um, none?” I replied, feeling the weight of my decision crash down on me like a giant elephant’s foot.
She looked at me in disbelief. “Why would you do that?” she exclaimed, possibly shaking my shoulders in an attempt to make sense of my choice. As someone who works from home, she’s aware that I rely on those hours when the kids are away to gather my thoughts and communicate with other adults.
“I honestly don’t know,” I admitted, brushing off the rising panic. “But I just have this gut feeling that we need this.”
What I mean by “this” is giving the kids the chance to step outside and play while I work—without a barrage of scheduled activities or screens, and without every moment being meticulously planned. I want them to experience boredom, to spark the creativity that’s been tucked away beneath layers of screen time.
I envision spontaneous summer afternoons, like packing some sandwiches in a cooler at the last minute and heading off for a picnic in a secluded spot. I want to let go of control and allow them to unleash their creativity on our home with blanket forts and toilet paper tube crafts—just letting them go wild with a pile of construction paper.
This is about winging it and hoping that by summer’s end, I’ll feel I know my kids a little better. If I’m being honest, I want this summer to resemble my own childhood.
Reflecting on My Childhood
As a kid in the ’80s, I attended maybe one week of Girl Scout camp each summer. The rest of my days were spent figuring out how to create my own adventures. I never visited a zoo because we lived too far away, and there was no “Learn to Ride a Bike” camp—I just scraped my knees until I figured it out. My mom didn’t stress about my boredom; she had her own life to lead, filled with gardening, reading, and preparing me lunch with Vienna sausages and Kool-Aid.
My summers were a mix of racing caterpillars, lying on the grass watching clouds, and creating imaginary worlds in my backyard. I spent hours trying to befriend the chipmunks, and my backyard became a magical kingdom inhabited by trolls and fairies. My mother had no clue what I was up to most of the time, and I loved the freedom I had.
I know this isn’t always feasible in today’s world, but I want my kids to experience a taste of that same freedom. I want them to feel the thrill of boredom, to invent their own games, and to learn how to engage with their thoughts.
The Need for a Pause
During the school year, life is a whirlwind of activities, and right now, I long to hit the pause button—even if it makes me anxious. I measured the kids against the wall today, their bodies growing taller, and I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I wanted to curl up with their old baby clothes and cry. Time is slipping away too fast.
I’m not sure if this is the best idea I’ve ever had, but I know we’ll have our share of frustrations, and I might end up working late into the night to catch up on tasks while encouraging my kids to embrace boredom instead of bickering. I might be a little crazy, but I’m committed to this plan.
Resources for Parents
For more tips on navigating parenthood and family life, check out our post about home insemination kits. Also, for those on a fertility journey, Couples Fertility Journey offers expert advice on intracervical insemination. If you’re curious about the process of artificial insemination, this Wikipedia page is a great resource.
Conclusion
In summary, this summer, we’re choosing a more relaxed, schedule-free approach to let our children rediscover the joys of play, creativity, and boredom, reminiscent of our own childhood experiences.
Keyphrase: schedule-free summer
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