Our children demand more and more attention, they are bored, they do not know what to do with themselves. Blogger Oksana Nikolaevskaya is looking for a solution to the problem of child boredom.
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“All you do is play games with child L., have smart conversations with him and develop him in every possible way. Not like me,” I hear from time to time. Don't judge by social media posts. All I often do is keep myself from banging my head against the wall.
I mean, I'm really good at tackling crappy situations and answering tough questions. Purely intuitive. I also have a medal from my psychologist. He says that your instinct, Oksana, is excellent. There are no children, but there is a flair for them. Where did it come from?
At the same time, I always clearly, loudly and unambiguously declare, I DO NOT LOVE CHILDREN. I love animals.
That's why I had (at the same time) two cats, two cats, a Staffordshire terrier, a thousand-liter aquarium and pigeons, parrots, swallows forever nailing to the balcony. And that means I don’t have children for a reason.
Well, it's all that doesn't make me laugh - traveling to the beautiful world of children's fantasies (TM), oxytocin thrill and touching lisping. I resist social pressure more successfully than the average citizen. I carefully listen to my desires and do not indulge in illusions much. Well, here it is.
I would make a good father. Of those to whom cleanly washed children are brought into the office, they, on the command “children, say hello to dad!” curtsy and leave immediately.
But since L. has a son from his first marriage, we all “have to swim somehow” ©. And I purely selfishly prefer to swim in an atmosphere of splendor, not brain-eating.
Therefore, I am vitally interested in the world in the family, the happiness of L., the good mood of the child and instilling in him certain social and everyday skills.
Well, it's clear that he can be funny, very similar to his father (even in stupid automatic gestures) and generally a very smart, open and kind boy.
But I mean, I don't have a special box with o̶k̶s̶i̶t̶o̶ts̶i̶n̶o̶m̶ a secret how to be perfect Mary Poppins.
And perhaps the most difficult thing for me is just to deal with "I'm bored." Every time I hear this, my whole body shudders!
In our childhood in the 80s, I don’t understand at all how we survived. At the same time, mind you, they didn’t really take out the brains of adults on the topic “dad-mom, entertain me, otherwise you will be “I’m a bad mother”, you’ll cry into a pillow.” I imagine how I, being at my grandmother's in the village, row up to her, up to her ears busy with household chores, and need that I'm bored. Yes, as raked, and raked! Schneller in the garden, picked up various flowers-leaves there and sit, invent balls and princesses in festive dresses. And then you'll go and graze the geese.
I read a wonderful thing from a child psychologist. Like, due to the fact that we, the current 35-40 year olds, had an extremely limited set of entertainment in childhood, downright entertaining deprivation, we all watched the carpet. Again. LOOKED THE CARPET. Got it?)))
Hey forty year olds! Which of us did not consider before going to bed the drawing on the carpet on the wall (or on the wallpaper), inventing a whole world with dragons, warriors, princesses. Where is that shabby Minecraft! We had our favorite well-worn bears, almost family members. Precisely because we were not given Lego for every convenient occasion. I'm not saying that a child should be kept in a tight rein, giving him two gifts a year: a school uniform for his birthday and textbooks for the New Year. But the son of L., gifted with constructors, for each of which in my childhood I would have killed, sits and annoys, which makes him bored.
I have to tug on L's hand every time he tries to buy his son another toy. I say - let him at least PRINT what he was presented with a year ago!!!
Yes, our children easily get both foreign trips and cartoons in 3D cinemas. And restaurants for them are not like the "ice cream parlor" in our childhood, where we went once a month, dressed up and tying new bows. And their tablets are no worse than their peers. And yes, the Soviet Union with its wooden toys nailed to the floor - never again!
But damn it. It seems that we ourselves turn them into drug addicts, requiring an increase in the dose. Endorphins can no longer be produced if Lego is like a fridge magnet. A new tablet is not a miraculous miracle, but the duty of mom and dad. If it breaks, buy a new one. Bike? Well, you just have to lazily snap your fingers. Look, I grew out of the old. And in general, the hoverboard is fashionable this season.
Because the horror story “so that mine is no worse than others”, it is for all time. Only the scale and possibilities change.
And now we have what we have. A snickering child who is accustomed to the increased attention of parents (oh, we are modern, oh, the child is a Personality, oh, how not to infringe on his freedom, oh, what if he will complain about me to a psychologist in thirty years).
A child who is accustomed to a higher level of entertainment. And each time new. Who practically does not know how to entertain himself, shifting this responsibility to adults. Yes, there is also a tablet and cartoons. Well, that's it. To me, tablets are the methadone option for children. If you know what I mean. It temporarily relieves the severity of the problem, but actually aggravates it.
And I honestly don't know what to do. Locked in a room, leaving a clean sheet and a box of pencils? Let him train to invent worlds? Didn't think - didn't eat? Artificially limit entertainment? Do not give toys for no reason at all? Spend more time with your child? Call me, I'm not going to spend 100% of my sleep-free time with him. I have me, L., friends, hobbies and even homework.
But then how can an adult endure this abstinence, when they go around and whine that there is nothing to do, but drawing, reading, and the designer are not interesting? And the tablet is no longer happy either?
For example: 1) they play chess with a child, then for an hour and a half - together with their father on a console. Leave for fifteen minutes while dinner is being prepared. All tragedy. Everyone here has forgotten me. I’ll go complain to my mom on Skype, dispel the longing. Give me, give me another dose!
2) we went to the water park. After that, the child, in a conversation with his mother, said boringly: “well … there were slides, but such … not very interesting …” from here." And yes, all this time the child was not alone, but with me. Diving, neighing, jacuzzi, slides, swimming pool, lazy river racing, mini zoo, outdoor games.
I'm bored, Imp.
AAAAAAAA!
Talk to me. You can even teach life on the sly. Or give sensible psychologists a read if I'm reinventing the wheel now.