"I'm Bored"

Last week SkyNews, a U.K. online news Web site, published an article that made a connection between children being bored and children being an only child. I’m not entire sure how the author got from point A to point B, but he did.

Here’s a sampling of the article, which I found offensive:

“Evidence suggests siblings save kids from 'risky' behaviour. They can provide the sympathetic ear parents sometimes fail to offer. They can prevent bullying, by active intervention, or old-fashioned snitching. They can act in loco parentis. They provide a ready supply of 'playdates' without ever leaving home.” You can read the entire post here.

Perhaps I was feeling overly sensitive after a week of hearing JJ say over and over again, “I’m bored.” We have been on a campaign to turn off the TV more and find other things to do. It seems we have fallen into this bad habit of JJ turning on the TV after school and only turn it off long enough to do homework, which isn’t very long since she is only in second grade.

It has been a painful transition for JJ and for us. Last week every time we shut off the TV, JJ would just sit in the chair in front of the TV and look longingly at the blank screen. I would suggest she find something else to do, I would point out she was wasting time that she could be doing any number of fun things. I would offer to play a game with her. I would offer to read Harry Potter to her.

But all she would say over and over again is “I’m bored.”

And, of course, as an only child myself I would remember being bored. I would remember days in the summer that would feel like there was nothing to do but wait for the day to end.

But, somehow, even after a week of “I’m bored,” we got through the weekend without a single utterance of the phrase.

Friday night after dinner and JJ’s favorite TV show, Endurance, we baked chocolate chip cookies, listened to music and danced around the house.

Saturday afternoon, we went to the library and then to the Air and Space Museum’s Air and Scare event.

Sunday we went to church and then hiked the Billy Goat Trail with friends. And, I was amazed at how JJ scrambled over the rocky trail with absolutely no fear while I hesitated and froze with every step. I think I found what will keep JJ from being bored. I just don’t think I, or my husband, have the physical endurance to go along with her.

Tell me what you do to keep your only child away from the TV. Do you think all only children are bored?

Sibling Envy

Last week I drove our neighbor’s daughter home from school. She happily chatted about how her 13-year-old brother was going to watch her until her parents came home, how he would let her watch TV and he make her dinner. Clearly, she was excited to have time alone with her brother.

After I walked her to her front door and she was safely inside, I went back to our car and found a very sad JJ.

When I asked what was wrong, she said, “How come everyone but me has a brother or sister.”

This is an emotional minefield for me.

I know that feeling so well from my own childhood. I would watch Eight is Enough and the Brady Bunch and feel like I was missing out on a something amazing.

And I am sure I was but, as I grew older, I also came to understand that what I received instead--a very close relationship with my parents--also was something amazing.

I don’t think my relationship with my parents would be the same if I had siblings. Though I admit that I worry about how I, as an only child, and my husband, as an only child, will take care of our parents as they age. There is no one to share that burden or to help hash out those tough decisions. Even having a sibling to talk with about my parents' quirky, and at times, annoying behaviors would be helpful. There is no one to bounce family issues off of—-it’s just me and my husband—-and we really don’t know all the nuances of each others families the way a sibling would.

And I feel guilty about passing this burden onto JJ.

As a kid, I would ask—-at times beg—-for a brother or sister. My parents would joke that once they had me, they definitely didn’t want another, which I always took in a negative way—-that I was so difficult, they couldn’t imagine having another.

So what did I tell JJ?

That we couldn’t decide whether to have another child and that now it is too late, I am older and it wouldn’t be healthy for my body to have another child. I’m not sure how much she understood but at least I gave her a reason that clearly put the blame on me, not her.

We really were ambivalent about having another child after JJ was born, probably because deep down inside we both knew that one was enough for us.

Maybe it’s a function of being an only child myself but I have a hard time imagining dividing my time between two kids. I’m sure parents of multiple children reading this line will find it laughable but I think for some people (like me and my husband), the idea of dividing your love and attention between multiple children is difficult. I know that even with friends, I much prefer spending time with one friend than two or three. I don’t do group dynamics well—-again, probably a function of being an only child.

My husband says I should have reminded JJ that not everyone has a sibling, that on our block alone there are three only children, but I didn’t think that was what she was asking.

Other parents of only children, has this question come up? What have you told your child? Do you wish you had others or is one enough?

Only Child Antidote

I spent the weekend in Chicago visiting my BFF. We have been BFFs long before anyone ever thought of up the title BFF.

She is my only child antidote (and my shopping muse). She is what I imagine having a sibling is like. Someone you can always talk to about anything at anytime. Someone who understands you better than you understand yourself. And, in my case, someone who can help you find the perfect outfit even if you are not looking for one (and often it's something you would never ever try on if you were by yourself).

I have tried to explain to JJ that relationships like these are important. That family is more than just the people we are related to by blood but also the people we are related to by our heartstrings.

It’s a difficult message for a 7-year-old to grasp but I think she gets the idea on some level. She spends a lot of time with E., her only child friend from across the street, and often refers to him as her brother. JJ and her other only child buddy, S., often beg for a sleepover when they get together.

It’s a start.

But being a BFF requires more than just the convenience of being across the street from each other or both being only children. (My BFF is not an only child, by the way, but her only sibling lives in another country.)

Overtime, I hope JJ will learn that friendships require compromise and compassion, the ability to listen without interrupting, the courage to ask challenging questions and the grace to accept that your needs don’t always come first.

For now, most of JJ’s friendships are based on a mutual love of Pokemon cards, Star Wars Legos and Phineas and Ferb. But, eventually, I hope she will find her BFF and only child antidote.