We all know that babies are boring. For the first several months, all they do is sleep, cry, eat and poop. That’s it. That’s all they do. But we don’t mind their dull disposition because, hello, you have a baby. We are so impressed with anything they do—from yawning to farting—that we overlook the fact that they are essentially lumps of flesh with awful sleep schedules.
I was under the false pretense that the older a child gets the more entertaining they become. After all, they go from rolling over to walking, cooing to talking, screaming to, well, not all things change. But it seems that if they can do more, then they should therefore be more entertaining.
This is not true at all.
Toddlers are boring as hell.
Yes, they are mobile micro-communicators, but their interests are banal at best. Here’s a few things my toddlers like to do for “fun,” and damn, do I use that term loosely:
Stand outside: They don’t even have to be doing anything. Just standing in the middle of our yard is entertaining to them.
Puzzles: Yes, puzzles can be fun. Challenging puzzles. Puzzles with more than 12 pieces. Puzzles that you do once in a while instead of 61 times in a row.
Play with dried beans: I give them each a bowl of dried beans, a couple measuring cups, a spoon, and they go to town just moving beans around.
Hide and seek: This isn’t any sort of advanced version. This is my 2-year-old son hiding under a blanket in his room every time and then giggling maniacally until I find him.
These things are not fun. They are mind-numbing. They turn my brain to mush from lack of use. These “activities” make me want to start drooling like the babies they once were. Toddlers are boring.
Am I the boring one? Are they boring because I’m boring?
No. Certainly not. I’m entertaining as hell. Just look at all these super cool things I like to do.
I like to watch reruns of my favorite TV shows, because I fear anything new won’t live up to the love I have for The Office, Scrubs and Parks and Recreation. It’s my inability to lower my expectations of shows created in the last few years that’s holding me back—not the fact that I’m blah.
I like to read memoirs by female celebrities who are far more entertaining than me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not as awesome as they are, does it? Am I living vicariously through them because I’m not actually cool?
I like to go for walks, in familiar places, by myself. Because I know the area and what to expect and I like being alone and, wait, do I even have friends anymore?
I think I’m the boring one.
I think my kids are boring because I’m boring. And if I think they’re boring, then they must be like off-the0charts normal and lifeless, and what have I done to my children?!
The truth is I haven’t done anything to my kids. I haven’t screwed them up by not being more adventurous or interesting. I’m not inhibiting them from any sort of personal growth. I’m just being me, myself and I.
I like quiet Friday nights at home with a Jack and Coke and a ’90s romantic comedy. I like to play Solitaire before I go to sleep because it helps shut my brain off. I enjoy going to coffee shops and just watching people because I find them fascinating to observe.
On the outside, I guess I appear to be boring, but I’m a catch. I’m well-read and witty and cultured and can turn on the charm at an office party like you would not believe. When I need to be captivating, I can be. And that’s good enough for me.
My uninteresting kids are OK with me, too. Toddlerhood is just a stage, and as I’ve been told a million times since I gave birth, in the blink of an eye they’ll be on their way to college or walking down the aisle or having tykes of their own. In just a few years, they’ll be in school and learning about their world. Their interests will expand beyond building block towers, their natural inquisitive nature will kick in, and they will begin to wonder and ask questions and do more things.
If they come across some unique activity they like to take part in, then awesome, I will be right there with them every step of the way.
But if they just wanna stay in their rooms and read all day, that’s fine by me. It may seem boring, but if it makes them happy that’s all that matters.