When left to their own devices

The summer of 2016 was a designated device free summer for our four kids. We tore down the television, locked away the iPads and gifted our family with a generous donation of good old-fashioned boredom. Just to see. Just to watch what would happen if they had the same sweet stuff I was swimming in as a kid.

But let’s be real, they were not so pleased with this gift. They did not find it so sweet. Not at first. At first it was like unwrapping a gaudy sweater vest from great Aunt Maud—one they would have to wear every single day of the summer. They didn’t even try to politely hide their disappointment as the wrapping paper fell to the floor.

There was a fair amount of sorrow and screeching and squirming in those first few days. It was painful. Pitiful. At moments, intolerable. The level of frustration expressed by my littles was definitely surprising. And rather punishing for all of us, actually. Nevertheless, in my determination to see this thing through, I persisted. I put on my big girl pants and stood my ground through the groans, the protesting, the wincing and the whining. I barely even flinched.

And I want to tell you that the summer of 2016 remains one of the best summers on record for the Berghoefs.

Once over the three day detox hump, the friendships that deepened between my kids and the creativity that kicked in as a means to survive the summer, was nostalgic and smacked of satisfaction. Everything slowed down and everything amazed. Delight and contentment with the simple was discovered and explored during those three splendid device-free months.

These kids. They did stuff. They created stuff. They invented stuff. They built shelters. They read through piles and mountains. They wrote stories. They invented games. They planted stuff and watered it and weeded it and coaxed it into growing. Their home was outside more than in. Running barefoot on grass carpet. Splashing in muddy ditches. Swimming in the pond. Chasing turtles. Catching frogs. Fishing for supper. Setting up an outdoor laboratory and conducting experiments there.

Every night they sunk deep into their pillows and deep into their dreams– at times under a canopy of planets and stars that scattered the sky.

The fruits we enjoyed that summer were part of the inspiration and impetus for my own decision to leave social media for an extended period of time.

I realize we live in a world where work and communication increasingly happens electronically, and it’s important for kids to learn how to use technology. I’m grateful they get this in school. But if I’m honest, there is a part of me that fears what might be lost as they grow up in a tech-saturated world where kids get together in a living room, pull out their devices and meet on Minecraft. Something does not feel right about this. Something important seems lost. I want to stay awake.  Want to continually seek a healthy balance for my kids as they navigate their way through the technological clutter they’re growing up in.

In the Berghoef family we’ll seek to continually gift our kids with summer boredom. Three months where they are left to their own [non-electronic] devices.