I’m Bored

Day three.  Oh, lovely day three!!  And I’ve already heard it 6 times this morning.  I may lose my mind.  Already.  Did I mention it’s day fucking THREE?!  Just checking.

I have no ideas left.  And by that I mean, I have tried, every summer, to figure out how to keep these kids entertained, mildly educated, and, more importantly, out of my hair busy, but no matter what I do, they’re bored.  A couple summers ago, I even went as far as hanging up a list of at least 75 things they could do if they were bored.  It was called the ‘I’m Bored List’ (my creativity knows no bounds).  And they were still bored.  Although I will admit that coming up with 75 ideas wasn’t easy and the last couple were just plain weird … jump up and down 100 times, crawl under the couch and stay there for 2 hours, or write a 10 page essay on how to create world peace with a toothpick.

Then I swung the other way and just ignored their whining and complaining … planned nothing, made no lists, just go with the flow, baby.  But that usually ended in them playing video games and watching TV for days hours on end … I tried to explain to them that good moms don’t let their kids watch TV and play video games, but they just responded with “I’m bored” in robotic voices until I gave up and wandered away muttering that I’m not that great of a mom anyway.

I think we should ban the word ‘bored’ – it’s stupid anyway.  Why is it ‘bored’ … I looked up some history on it, but frankly I got bored.  It’s pretty bad when you get bored trying to figure out where ‘bored’ came from.

I think I am going to make it like a 4 letter word in our house though – despite not knowing the historical significance of it (yawn).  If you say “I’m bored” that’s the equivalent to saying “I’m fucked” and I will subsequently gasp in horror, scream the child’s full given name, and immediately send them to their room … where they will presumably be bored again.

I try to be the understanding mom – “it makes sense that you’re bored, you’re used to being in school all day”, but I can only shpew that bullshit for so long until I evolve into melodramatic mom – “are you serious?!  find something to DO!!” (the ‘do’ being pronounced with a long slow vocal descent that makes it sound like it will be turned into the word ‘doom’ – which is basically where I’m headed) and then later, into psychotic mom – “you ungrateful, selfish, beep, beep, beep!!”, well, that’s what I think in my mind anyway, with the ‘beeps’ being replaced by words no one would dare utter to their precious, dear, innocent, doe-eyed children (do those type of kids exist?). It usually doesn’t end well after that … for anyone … especially the Hubs.

Ah, summer.  You and all your ambiguity.  I don’t know whether to love you or to hate you, so I guess I’ll do both … that or shove legos in my ears til it’s over (god knows we have enough of them covering EVERY SQUARE INCH of our floors).  Why not?  Nothing else has worked.



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