It’s monsoon season here in NEPA. Twice in the last month our area has been covered in several inches of rain and flash flooding has been a serious problem. Many roads have been closed or washed away. Yesterday, a video of a travel trailer floating down a local stream was making its rounds on Facebook.

My heart goes out to all the families who found several inches of water rushing into their homes. For families with children, the start of school is right around the corner and now they have to spend time cleaning, disinfecting, and repairing their homes on top of getting ready for the new school year. I’m also praying the hurricane season is kind this fall and our river levels don’t rise.

If you find yourself flooded and in need of aid, please reach out. There are many people who have offered their time and homes to those in need.

If you are out there rescuing people from their homes or cars, thank you for your service and we are praying for your safety.

My kids get two hours of screen time each day during the summer: one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Shortly after they run out of screen time, they begin following me around with a whiny chorus of “I’m bored.” My response this summer has been, “well, go be bored somewhere else.” They look at me like I’m such a cruel mom, but here’s the truth: it’s a privilege to be bored.

The ability to have a moment in the day so free that you don’t know how to fill it is an experience millions of people around the world never know. They’re too busy working, caring for others, or just trying to stay alive. The ability to be bored is a gift. Bored kids aren’t neglected, they’re fortunate.

It’s surprising how quickly they can find something to do if I dismiss their pleas instead of immediately give them an activity to fill their time. Rarely do they just sit and stew in their boredom. Often, their most creative play grows from my ignoring their boredom and leaving them to their own devices.

I’m blessed to be home with my kids in the summer and we get to spend a lot of time doing fun activities together, but there’s a benefit for all of us if they have to keep themselves occupied for a portion of the day.

They next time one of them complains they are bored, I think I’ll respond with, “wow, you’re so lucky!”

For my grandmother’s upcoming birthday party, our family was given the task of providing the birthday cake. Normally, I would order a cake from our favorite bakery then talk my brother into picking it up. Two minutes, and I’m done. I’d like to say I thought this time cake baking would be a fun alternative, but the truth is that I simply forgot to order a cake. (Whoops!). So, baking was our only option.

Normally, I would just ask 11yo to take care of it because she loves to bake. When I brought it up, (much to her chagrin) the littles wanted to be in on the action. So, instead of having one cake, we made three! To save time, we used boxed cake mixes (on sale for $1!) and canned icing for decoration. We DID make our own buttercream frosting as a base. And sprinkles. So…..many…..sprinkles.

It turned out to be a fun experience and everyone at the party enjoyed their multiple cake options.

Today, during dinner prep, 3yo held up a large plastic spoon and asked “Why dis a spoon?”

After a day of work, picking up kids, exercising dogs, and squeezing in a workout, this simple question broke my brain.

Why IS this a spoon?

Thinking back, I should have said, “It has a long handle and a small bowl on the end, making it a spoon instead of a fork or knife.”

At the time, my brain just couldn’t handle coming up with that simple explanation. Instead, it malfunctioned.

My inner monologue:

Why IS that a spoon? Is it really a spoon? Is it only a spoon because we say it is a spoon? Could it be something else? Why can’t we just decide it is a fork or a knife? Despite its shape, I can still ineffectively pick up food, cut food, and stab you with it. (“Why a spoon, cousin? Why not an axe something?” “Because it’s dull, you twit. It’ll hurt more.” Miss you, Alan Rickman.) Can’t I call it a miniature shovel? It works the same way. Do labels really mean anything? Why do we even HAVE names for things? This spoon has slots, so it doesn’t even do the one simple job a spoon is SUPPOSED to do! How can it be a spoon if it doesn’t even HOLD all the FOOD?!  It should be in a completely different category of objects, one filled with things that only partially do their jobs. Like a doily. What the hell is a doily for? It’s a covering that doesn’t cover things. It gives the illusion of covering things, but really there are more uncovered spots than covered spots. It’s like a rain coat made of fishing nets. It looks like a coat, but it’s not keeping any water off your body! That’s why I don’t have any doilies.

Because I did not respond immediately, she asked again: “Why dis a spoon, Mommy?”

My answer: “Because it is.”

And it’s only Monday.

I spent 2 hours drawing a cartoon of my camper in Microsoft Paint.

Yes, I had 1,000 other things to do.

No, they didn’t get done.

The Census of 2010 reported that 20% of the population of the United States was 10-years or younger. 21 million of those children were under the age of 6. Kidshealth.org reports that the average 4-year-old is 40 inches tall. That means approximately 1 in 7 people living in the US are 3 feet or shorter.

So WHY on earth doesn’t anyone put stools in their public restrooms?!?

Taking a newly-potty-trained toddler to the restroom is hard enough as it is. They don’t fit on the seat, they’re terrified of the self-flushing toilets, and the two of us barely fit in the tiny stall together. Despite my insistence they don’t touch anything, they manage to rest their hands on nearly every surface. After wrangling their clothes back on, then trying to use the toilet myself while repeating “don’t you dare open that door until I’m finished!” at least 4 times, I am then forced to balance my 30lb toddler on one raised knee while simultaneously turning on the water and squeezing the soap dispenser while they do a half-assed job of washing their own hands.

I’ll delay my rant about changing tables for another day, but at least one can argue that those are expensive ($400 or more). But a stool? 50 bucks, and you only need one in each room. I have great appreciation for businesses who provide a lower sink, but they are few and far between. I adore business that provide a mini-toilet for little butts (thank you, Knoebels), but I’ve seen that maybe three times in my life. Trust me, moms and dads know what each public bathroom in their community provides and we are more likely to patronize a business if we know we can easily change a diaper or avoid bathroom acrobatics.
No, bathroom stools won’t solve world hunger or house the homeless, but a hungry homeless person with a toddler would probably still appreciate a stool then next time they have to take them to a public restroom.

https://www.census.gov/

https://naeyc.org/policy/advocacy/ChildrenandFamiliesFacts

http://kidshealth.org/en/parents/growth-4-to-5.html