Picture this: my kids, standing in front of me with those classic lines that make my eyes roll—“Mom, I’m bored!” Seriously, how did I end up with kids who think their dull moments are my responsibility? Maybe it’s from my overly hands-on parenting approach during their early years, or perhaps it’s because they’re so swamped with homework, sports, and activities that figuring out how to entertain themselves feels like a Herculean task.
They look at me, eagerly waiting for me to rescue them from their misery. So, I try to help: Did you walk the dog? (Check.) Practice piano? (Check.) Read a book? (Groan.) How about an art project? (Another groan.) Maybe cook dinner? (Absolutely not!) Shoot some hoops? (Too tired.) Play with your sibling? (Ugh, no!) Call a friend? (So lame!) Clean your room? (Mommmmm!).
At this point, I throw in the towel. I can’t remember ever telling my mom, “I’m bored,” and if I did, I’m sure she’d reply with, “I’m confident you can find something to do.” Back in the ’80s, entertaining us wasn’t on the parental job description. Our folks were busy chatting on the phone, catching up on news about the Falklands or the royal wedding, or mowing the lawn. We learned to entertain ourselves—and boy, did we get creative!
As a tween, my afternoons after school were filled with a delightful mix of snacks, TV reruns, and a touch of imagination. I’d start with some Keebler cookies and a Capri Sun, all while catching a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. After a quick homework session (thanks, mimeographed worksheets!), I’d flip on MTV, air-guitar my heart out to Joan Jett, and write fan letters to my crush, Rick Springfield, using funky rainbow stationery. Not to mention, the joy of rearranging my sticker collection, hoping to trade some unique finds at the next sleepover.
Communication? Oh, we had it down! I’d dial up my friends on our push-button wall phone, yanking the cord into the dining room for some privacy. If Kim didn’t answer, I’d just move on to Juliette or Ellen-Marie. Our hangouts often involved waiting for our crush, Jimmy, while sharing music on a Walkman I borrowed from my dad.
With my Swatch watch keeping time, dinner called me back home. After downing a Sloppy Joe, I’d jot down my day’s adventures in my Little Twin Stars diary and dive into the latest book we were passing around. All this fun? Completely parent-free—just how we liked it!
So, when my kids whine about boredom, I’ve decided to take a page from my own childhood. I’ll simply look up from my phone, smile sweetly, and say, “I’m sure you can find something to do.” And who knows, maybe I’ll strategically leave out my vintage Rubik’s Cube for them to stumble upon.
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In sum, kids of the ’80s thrived on self-entertainment, learning to find joy and creativity without constant parental input. It’s a lesson that could serve today’s children well.