Our children spend time so wrecklessly (sp?), or so it seems. Lost in a daze, glaze, staring into space or the screen of the computer or DVD player, or, better, reading a book.
Was it ever thus? Do all parents lament the time their children waste? so that the knowledge of hindsight, the 'mis-spent' youth, the years already past, looking back - this all makes time more precious...
Or is it jealousy? the children having all their time ahead of them and not behind them. And why should 'we' parents judge how our children spend their time? How else will they learn the value of it? If we parents dictate how they spend every minute of every day (by ferrying them from one after school activity to the next...) how will they learn ... to dream, to day-dream, to think independently, wildly, imaginatively, bored or other.
Boredom. How it haunts the modern life - there's always something on offer to fill the void. I say fulfil the void! Vive la void! Live the void.
When I was growing up, admittedly it's a long time ago, we didn't 'play' with our parents. They were too busy - at work, with the housework, gardening, taking a nap. They didn't expect to entertain us children. They fed us, clothed us, took us to school and church, showed us how to do things if we asked, but they didn't expect to pander to our whims. We played, and fought, with our siblings and friends, and kept ourselves entertained between home time after school and tea-time at home, during the long summer holidays, and when winter came we plopped down in front of the TV.
We don't have a TV in our house. Life is much simpler without it. Less pressured. More time to read, and get on with jobs. More time to spend ... how we want to. No pressure to watch. We participate, actively, in life. We don't watch passively on the sidelines. Richer? You decide.
Thanks for reading, keep it sweet! Kat
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