Toddlerhood kind of sucks. I love the tiny-person effect of my recently walking, talking, joking children. But the games and playtime are mind-numbingly boring sometimes. Which is probably not helped by the fact that I’ve had a toddler in my home at all times since becoming a parent of two foster toddlers 6 years ago. I think I’m just over it.
Play-doh is one of my favorite toddler things to play because it’s one of the least boring. Not because of the play-doh itself. There are only so many smush-sculptures one can make when her brain is 20% on task and 80% planning dinner, thinking of behavior consequences, and trying to remember to send grandma a birthday card. But it is pretty fun to watch my two year old use play-doh. Especially when she giggles or sticks it up her nose and sneezes it out… Even still, after about 15 minutes, I’m done. Why?
Because it’s boring. As in mind-numbingly, grown-up brain deadeningly boring. I am not, after all, two years old anymore (no comments, Hub).
My husband and I have a joke about TV commercials: after most of them we can actually feel the drop in IQ points happening. They are boring too.
As is standing in line at the check out stand. And sweeping my floor. And driving my car.
And so I go for things that aren’t boring, just to spice things up. Like speaking or blogging, or chatting with other moms on Moms Together. Or reading a great book. In particular, a non-parenting books