In an Over-Scheduled World, I’m Bringing Back Spontaneity for My Kids
My parenting goal for the next year is to simply do less.
My parenting goal for 2020 is to simply do less. It sounds like a bizarre goal, especially coming from someone who thrives on multi-tasking and checking items off her to-do list, but I think it’s a goal that will serve my family well.
As my daughters grow older, I find myself thinking more and more about my own childhood. Life seemed simpler then. Birthday parties didn’t have elaborate themes and full dessert tables. Playdates weren’t planned months in advance. Weekends weren’t booked with back-to-back extra-curricular activities.
My brother and I walked over to our friends’ houses down the street to play. Sometimes we’d end up at the park on the swings. Sometimes we walked over to the convenience store to buy a slushie. On the weekends, we enjoyed doing everything at a leisurely place, with nowhere to be. It was bliss.
I recently realized how different my own children’s childhood is from my own. We often have activities lined up on the weekends, filling our downtime with stress. In order to book a playdate with a friend, we have to flip the calendar a couple of weeks to find any empty afternoon. I find myself thinking about their birthday parties months in advance, worrying about how I’m going to make a cake that looks like a baby shark.
As I become a more confident parent, I find myself longing to do less as I raise my daughters.
In today’s highly structured and fast-paced world, doing less isn’t easy. There are more demands on my time than ever before, and more distractions in my back pocket than I can comprehend. Nevertheless, I’m reworking our lives so that we can be freer.
One of the things I remember most about growing up was the feeling of spontaneity. If the mood struck, my parents would take us to McDonald’s for an ice cream cone. If I wanted to see a friend from school, I could just walk over and see if she was free.
These days, prior commitments, scheduled activities, and more things on our plates make it difficult to be spontaneous — simply because we don’t have the time.
So I’m working on restoring the lost art of spontaneity.
At 2 and 4 years old, my daughters understand the concept pretty well — I’m the one who needs to be taught. That’s why I try to answer with, “Yes!” whenever they ask if we can all do something. It’s not easy, but little by little I’m getting rid of the restraints of my daily planner.
Instead of scheduling a playdate a month in advance and making sandwiches shaped like cartoon characters, we walk down the street to their friends’ house and ask if they can all draw with chalk on the sidewalk. Everyone has a freezie, the sticky run-off adding to their chalky masterpieces.
On the weekends, we’re working on being bored.
We go to one scheduled activity, and then that rest of the day is for unstructured play. I was surprised to learn just how much fun being bored can be. That’s when their creativity really starts to shine. My children build forts out of old cardboard boxes and blankets. They have elaborate tea parties for their stuffies and trains. They sort all of their blocks by color and size and proudly show me their handiwork. It’s magnificent.
As my children grow older, I hope the element of spontaneity remains in their lives. Soon they will have book reports and math tests, gymnastics competitions and choir concerts. Their lives will be structured through school and camp, and then through work. Their time will be divided into neatly organized squares on a calendar. In the midst of all that, I hope they know the value of being bored, and the joy of saying yes when the mood strikes.
I hope they will remember how to do less. And I hope I do, too.
