Coffee – then adulting.

I should have been prepared for it. But I didn’t realize how the cleaning and reorganizing of the playroom would hit so hard.

I wanted to move my office there. Unfortunately, the size of my desk made it impossible. But I still took the opportunity to clean up foam gun darts and pick off dried Play-Doh from the carpet. I threw out random toy parts. They belong to an era that I now yearn for. (They also probably belong to a toy that will never be found.)

In between it all, there were feelings of nostalgia. But there were also feelings of sadness, regret, and anger. All related to the fact that screens have replaced so many traditional toys.

My son seems to be the only one to play with his toys when he’s with friends. Otherwise, his new playroom is his room or his sister’s room. Their laughter and enthusiasm about something that happened in their Roblox game is a welcoming sound. I should be happy about this bonding, and I am. But there’s a level of anger at society – and myself – for replacing the childhood I knew.

Will we ever get it back? Will we be happy to curse the jagged blocks left out on the carpet even if it kills our foot?

Will we be satisfied to pick dried clay off the carpet, even if our back pays the price?

Will we be glad to pick up the broken crayons and dried markers that were tools of spontaneous creativity?

I can dream of those days.

I read an article in The Atlantic, which really made me think about why play is being replaced with screens. Over time, it seems that a fear of “strangers” and things we can’t control have driven kids inside, perhaps unintentionally. I can totally see that. It’s unfortunate. I do feel good that society has had some influence. Not all blame is on us parents.

I suppose we all own a part of the blame for getting here. But it means we have to try even harder to get back, and I don’t know if we ever will. Fighting the lure of technology is like standing in front of ocean waves and letting them toss you again and again. It’s tiring and it hurts.

So if your playroom is still getting used, please don’t take it for granted. Because as much as it can get messy, it’s the kind of messy that we should all feel good about.

It’s 10:30 p.m. My son peers out of his room (where he should be asleep) and asks, “Mom, have you ever made a mistake in life?”

I think I’m about to have another existential conversation with a very curious 7-year-old. I mean, this is the same kid who asked me if I liked “being a parent or a kid more” while we shopped for frozen pizzas. That was not something I was prepared to answer. I was just trying to decide on cheese vs. pepperoni, thin crust vs. thick crust. Not sure I was prepared to explain the complexities of aging and paying bills in Aisle 9.

I guess I could have used it as a learning experience. I would’ve tried to explain in some half-ass fashion how choosing a pizza is more complicated. As a parent, you have to consider cost, ingredients, and shelf life, etc. As a kid, you get to decide on cheese or pepperoni – and then reap the rewards of that choice.

When you’re caught off guard, you don’t have time to plan out your response. I’m not one of those moms you see in a PBS kids’ show. And I’m no Danny Tanner from Full House. I can’t do thoughtful responses on the fly. I need more time.

Before I lose my own train of thought – back to the birds.

He points to my blue T-shirt. It shows the popular TV personality Bob Ross painting birds over a mistake in his art. The phrase reads: “Ever make mistakes in life? Let’s make them birds.”

I’ve made plenty of mistakes, that’s for sure. If only we had the choice of painting over them with birds rather than owning up to them all.

I didn’t say this to him, but simply replied, “of course.”

This kid has a knack for asking random questions about life. He would probably make a good philosophy professor one day. For now, it’s bedtime, which I am sure I’ve reminded him about a dozen times.

I’ll think of a good response while I fall asleep, so I can be prepared for the next random question.

If you know me, you probably know that I’m generally a pretty private person. There are many reasons for starting this but here are a few.

1. I have a new laptop. Now I must use it.
2. I miss writing. Even if no one reads what I write.
3. We all have a voice, and many of us don’t use it enough. Some of us use it too much. But I figured that we can all gain from hearing each other’s thoughts. This especially true when it comes to the trials and tribulations of having kids, and really just “adulting” in general.

The truth is I started this blog entry above in April of 2019. It’s now 2025. In other words, that was before a new job, before the world shut down for a pandemic, and before we moved 3 times in 3 years. And before the crippling anxiety about the future of our children’s generation – and basically, everything. Now, the laptop I started this on is the last one I would use due to its turtle-level speed. But, the reasons I started this are the same.

We live in a world where we outsource so much. This is especially true now, thanks to AI. But I want my thoughts to be mine. I want them to be authentic – even if no once cares to read them.

It takes bravery to ink our thoughts on paper. Maybe all we need is a good cup of coffee, first. A sip of vino might also help. So here goes nothing…better late than never.