Aubrey has already gone to work, but I have a late morning. So, Sam is with me as I get some work done around the house. This means that, sadly, Sam must entertain himself without me.
Several times he has whined or even tried to get my attention with a toy or the cat. I feel like a jerk ignoring him, and I could easily turn on Bluey (his favorite TV show) which would keep him entertained for hours. But Sam needs to experience boredom. He needs to sit with his thoughts, explore the house, and find ways to have fun by himself.
This is not to say I am ignoring him outright; our house is small, and I am working in an area that allows almost complete oversight. I monitor the chaotic ongoings as Sam runs from room to room, pets the cat, and adds to a growing pile of toy trucks. Soon, Sam discovers he can play with the toy bin itself. Inside the bin he’s a captain at sea, sailing through uncharted waters between the bar and [adjacent] living room. All too quickly the wind dies, and Sam must use two grilling utensils in lieu of oars and row himself and his shipmates to shore.
After beaching himself on the white sands of Rug Island, Sam rolls onto his back and lays sprawled across the floor. He then notices the television directly above and points to it, exhausted.
"Booey?" (Bluey) he asks.
"Not right now, bud," I say.
"Whaa.." Sam’s voice trails off in a whimper.
Boredom, I believe, is a state that can be almost completely avoided in an age when smartphones and 5G are ubiquitous. I often fall into the trap of constant entertainment myself, pulling out my phone when I'm in line at the grocery store, waiting for my next flight at work, or even while Aubrey and I are cuddled up watching a movie. But I never feel good after having scrolled; I don't look back fondly on the time I've spent watching reels, and I have no business wasting more time thumbing through Marketplace.
Yet I return. I keep coming back to the same apps. The apps keep me content in my laziness, happy to pay hours of my life for a few interesting ten-second clips. As for children, how much more so? I at least have a nagging list of chores that I do not want to let slide. Sam does not have responsibilities to the same extent. So, should I just let him scroll? Let Sam watch one more Bluey episode? Sometimes, it's ok. Sometimes it's fine to relax and enjoy a movie or browse social media. But I try to avoid letting it become the default.
After several minutes of whining and pointing to the TV, Sam heads toward his room. There's a bit of crashing and ruckus, but no audible evidence of significant mayhem, so I keep working. Within five minutes, Sam emerges with his wooden train set, a gift from Mimi (his foster grandma) and a perennial favorite. He sits down in the living room and, after a bit of earnest fiddling, requests assistance,
"Hep?" he asks.
I come over and open the latch on the case, toys spill out onto the rug.
"Yeah!" Sam says.
He's going to be just fine without Bluey this morning.
Love all your life adventures! Keep them coming. Miss seeing you guys, looks all is well up North. Kevin