Turn off the TV and Turn on Their Imaginations

This past Sunday, five minutes after we came in from church. I walked into the living room to find my sons, Andrew and Jack, still in church clothes staring blindly at a repeat of Spongebob that they've seen no less than 39 times. There was no light in their eyes. The only sign of intelligence from either of them was a dull chuckle when Squidward lost his temper. I glanced out the window. The delightful 80 degree day with a light wind, perfect for building tree forts, playing soccer and catching insects was completely lost on them. I could feel my jaw tighten and my face begin to flush. Then, as if mocking Squidward's outburst, I completely lost my temper.

I'll spare you my entire diatribe, but it started out something like this "I WILL NOT HAVE MY KIDS WASTING THEIR LIVES STARING AT THIS EVIL..... LABOTAMIZER" (I'm not sure if labotamizer is really a word, but I think it fit well there. Don't you?) I marched over to the TV, pressed the "off" button and shut the cabinet doors. As Andrew's fingers inched toward the remote control, I dared him to touch it with the seriousness of a rattlesnake and continued my ranting. "Boys, get out of your good clothes, get yourselves outside and just.... be boys. No one going near this TV until I say so!"

My son Andrew is one of the countless kids in America who owns higher end electronics than his parents. When there's nothing on TV, he plays a video game. When he's done with that, he logs into Club Penguin. When we get in the car, he has his PSP in tow. When nothing seems to grab his attention, he utters those words every parent hates. "I'm BOOOOOOOORED" He's become self entertainment impaired. Where's his creativity? The games of hide and seek with neighborhood kids, making mudpies to pelt at his brother, building toy boats to float in the creek behind our house, climbing a tree and looking for things to spit on below, building a dirt bike ramp.

I have to admit the fault lies with my husband and me for providing the mindnumbing entertainment devices that today's generation of zombie kids rely on. TV, video games, and computers are rapidly replacing cigarettes as America's scapegoat (after Bush). In addition to being blamed for childhood obesity, diabetes, violence, materialism, falling grades and depression, too much screen time zaps our kids' imaginations, ingenuity, and ability to entertain themselves. I'm working hard to put a stop to this in my family.

Friends and I have discussed before that when we were kids, things were different. We rode our bikes for hours, built things with sticks and leaves, explored our surroundings, delighting at reachable bird nests, and hollowed out trees. Our Barbies and GI Joes didn't come with log-in codes. We created their actions using our own imaginations. We were told by our parents on Saturdays to "go outside and don't come back in until dark" and it didn't occur to us not to.

After fifteen minutes I went outside to check on my recovering screen addicts. Andrew was sitting miserably on the front porch next to the door, while Jack was peeling bark off a tree.
Not exactly the greatest start to ourdoor fun, but they were indeed outdoors and still alive. I could work with that.

I'd recently gotten my October issue of FamilyFun magazine (the greatest publication for families in the universe. If you don't take it, get it.) In it, a mom had written in to tell about the tradition she and her young son have of building houses for the pretend fairies that come to live in their yard during the fall. They gather sticks, leaves, acorns, moss...pretty much anything provided naturally, and build huts for their imaginary, two-inch high friends. COOL! I thought, a great activity that stimulates their brains and doesn't cost a thing.

"Boys" I said "Let's build fairy houses." And then I read them the article. "That sounds lame." Andrew said, rolling his eyes. After coaxing them into humoring their uncool mother and giving it a try, I was amazed at what began to take place.
Read more about our no TV Sunday experiment in tomorrow's entry. It'll renew your faith in the power of creativity.