HOLIDAYS: DON'T WASTE THE BOREDOM
"Mummy..." "I'm bored."
The words are often followed by an expectant look, as though solving boredom has become another item on a parent's daily job description. (Well, it is).
So we begin searching for solutions.
We hand over a phone or tablet. Turn on the television. Suggest another cartoon. Arrange another outing. Find another game. Anything to make the complaint disappear.
And, for a while, it works.
Think back to your own childhood.
Many of us grew up without endless entertainment. There were long afternoons when electricity disappeared without warning. Friends were not always available. Television stations started late afternoon and shut down at night. There was no internet waiting in our pockets.
Yet somehow we survived. More than that, we imagined.
We built football goals from slippers. We turned empty tins into toy cars. We created stories from nothing more than sticks, stones, and our own imagination. We invented games with rules that changed halfway through because someone wanted to win.
No adult organised those moments. Boredom did.
The mind has an interesting habit. When it is not constantly being fed entertainment, it starts creating its own.
A cardboard box becomes a spaceship.
A notebook becomes the beginning of a novel.
An old saucepan becomes a drum.
A patch of soil becomes a garden.
A simple question becomes the start of a lifelong interest.
Many of history's inventors, writers, scientists, musicians, and entrepreneurs first developed something really ordinary.
Curiosity birthed them.
That is one reason modern life can be so noisy. The moment silence appears, we instinctively reach for a screen. Children are learning that same habit from us.
Every spare minute becomes occupied. Every pause is interrupted.
Every waiting room becomes another opportunity to scroll.
The result is not that children become entertained. They lose the chance to discover what they might have created instead.
Of course, this does not mean children should be left alone without guidance. Loving parents still provide structure, boundaries, and meaningful activities. Boredom is not permission for neglect. It is permission for discovery.
When your child says, "I'm bored," ask, "What could you create?"
At first, they may shrug. They may wander around the house.
They may complain again. That's all right. Don't rush to rescue them.
Creativity often arrives a few minutes after discomfort.
Some children will start drawing.
Others will build with blocks, write stories, practise an instrument, explore the backyard, organise their room, experiment in the kitchen with supervision, or simply sit and think.
Even thinking has become a forgotten activity.
The Bible records moments when God spoke most clearly during periods of quietness and waiting. Elijah expected God in the wind, the earthquake, and the fire, but instead heard Him in a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–12). While this passage isn't about parenting, it reminds us that not every meaningful moment is loud.
Some of life's greatest lessons grow in stillness.
The holidays don't have to be packed with constant activity to be successful.
Children don't need every hour planned.
Neither do adults.
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give our families is room to breathe. Room to notice. Room to wonder. Room to imagine.
One day, your children will live in a world that constantly competes for their attention. Notifications will multiply. Deadlines will increase. Noise will become normal.
If they learn, while they are still young, that silence is not something to fear but something to value, you will have given them a gift that no app can download and no examination can measure.
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