Surviving Schedules and Boredom: A Mom’s Guide to Doing Just Enough

I have two girls, ages 7 and 9, which means I currently live in a world suspended between glitter glue and sarcastic eye rolls. I’m knee deep in washing pool towels,  missing socks, and negotiations over screen time limits (which, for the record, I always win. Thank you, law degree).

Lately, I’ve been asking myself a critical question

How do I keep my kids engaged this summer… without fully losing my mind?

My kids are in summer camps, but my oldest just returned from a two-week sleepaway camp, and now every camp at home sounds boring to her. Amazing how a camp counselor who makes friendship bracelets and sings around a campfire ruins everything else forever.

The way I look at it … On one end, you’ve got “Pinterest Mom,” whose children are scheduled from dawn to dusk with 800 activities, including daily cooking, crafting, and allocated pool time. On the other end, you’ve got “Free-Range Mom,” whose kids are out somewhere barefoot learning “resilience.”

I’m proudly parked in the middle: “Let’s Keep Everyone Alive, Active, and Occasionally Stimulated,” Mom. Not slacking. Not overachieving. Just doing enough. Oh, and let’s make sure I am still doing my day job, cooking dinner, and maintaining a household. 

The Overscheduled Olympics

If you peeked at my school year calendar, you’d think it belonged to an overbooked cruise director with a serious Tetris addiction. (Fun fact: I played Tetris obsessively on my old Game Boy, so those skills come in handy now.) I sign my girls up for plenty of activities—not to raise Olympic hopefuls, but to help them explore interests, stay active, and avoid couch time, which in our house is reserved for weekends and special occasions.

My oldest is a performer through and through—acting, voice lessons, and dance this summer (because apparently, being dramatic in the kitchen doesn’t count as formal training). She also plays soccer and basketball, because we believe in balance—like hitting high notes and making high blocks. But for now, those sports aren’t our focus.

My youngest? Cheer and competitive cheer. Which requires side hustles in tumbling and dance to stay ready for the fall season. Thankfully, she doesn’t need a class in “being loud” — she was born with that superpower and has already mastered it.

With a husband who’s always on the road, I’m the family’s one-woman Uber service. I coordinate logistics like a general preparing for battle, snacks packed, water bottles mysteriously never full enough, and my gas tank flirting with empty like it’s a new hobby.

And yet, somehow, they’re still bored. I’ll hear it from the backseat, somewhere between tumbling drop-off and driving home. Moooooom, I’m bored.  Excuse me? You haven’t had a single unscheduled moment since last Tuesday. 

Boredom: The Ultimate Enemy-Or Is It?

I used to feel like boredom was a parenting failure. Like if my kids were bored, it meant I wasn’t doing enough. As if a bored child reflected a lack of creativity or hustle on my part. But plot twist: boredom might actually be good for them.

I’ve started calling it “boredom training.” It’s like muscle building for their imaginations. When I resist the urge to fix it with a screen or a Pinterest-worthy activity, something magical happens:

  • Forts appear—with couch pillows, blankets, and every Nugget cushion we own.
  • Barbies are set up in playroom scenes that honestly require legal intervention.
  • Entire musicals are written and performed, sometimes with costume changes.
  • And siblings..brace yourself..collaborate and get along.

Sure, it often ends with a dramatic scream or someone accusing the other of “ruining everything,” but hey, that’s called art. So now, when I hear “I’m bored,” I smile and say: “Figure it out.”  They hate it. But they also do it.

Finding the Sweet Spot

So what’s the real solution? Balance. I aim for just enough.

Just enough structure so they don’t morph into screen addicted crazy kids
Just enough downtime so they don’t expect me to function as their personal cruise director.
Just enough activity to burn energy without burning me out.
Just enough unstructured time to be kids, but also to take ownership and responsibility for themselves.

Do they still complain? Of course they do. But I remind myself, I’m raising humans, not building their resumes.