Screen free sundays, Maria von Trapp and mud pie kitchens

I worked in PR for many years but I'm starting to think that I never really left behind my life of 'spin'. You see, reading this blog you could get a warped sense of my existence. It may appear, for example, that I am a hands-on mother with a Maria von Trapp complex who leads her children in an endless round of healthy, outdoor activities.

You would be wrong.

In fact my children watch a lot of telly, play endless games on the Wii and have more than a passing acquaintance with computers and the world of Nintendo DS. Of course, in common with most mothers, I have developed a deep sense of guilt about this which I have learnt to live with in the same way I have learnt to live with most other unsettling thoughts - by studiously ignoring them. 

Then a few months ago I read about a woman who led her family in a technology free month.  " Wow" I thought.  "That's impressive" I thought. "We should so do that" I thought.

Of course, I am nothing if not a realist and I knew that a month would be pushing it.  As would a week. Or, you know, an entire weekend. But, hey, a day a month is a start, isn't it? Plus, I didn't want to shock the kids with too much cold turkey.

So we let the children know the plan earlier in the week and made it sound exciting (as I say, you can take the girl out of PR...) then, on Saturday night, I unplugged the telly and Wii, packed away the laptops and put the DS' out of sight before heading to bed.

So, how did it go?

Well, my biggest worry was Archie who, at three and a half, is transfixed by anything on screen. He will alter the wallpaper on my iPhone on a daily basis, execute some impressively complex moves to Wii Just Dance and happily recite dialogue from Tangled - his current movie of choice - at the breakfast table (and believe me "I AM THE LOST PRINCESS, AREN'T I?" yelled over the cereal bowls doesn't make for a relaxing meal).

But surprisingly, he didn't seem too bothered. After finding none of the tellies working and getting a swift 'no' to any other screen requests, he followed his siblings outside. Here they entertained themselves for quite some time - mostly in making 'magic mixtures'.

For the uninitiated 'magic mixtures' are really just buckets of water to which sand, soil, feathers, twigs and general garden debris are added and mixed together. The 'magic' prefix is obviously just proof that the talent for positive spin is carried in the genes.

There was also some bug hunting, trampolining, flower arranging, painting, reading, playing with expensive midget animals (or Sylvanian families as they are more traditionallly known) but in a 'time entertained' vs 'parental effort involved' magic mixtures topped the poll.

As such I am now wondering how I can exploit this Nintendo alternative further.  A bit of online research has shown me that what I really need is a mud pie kitchen. Like this:

Source: Rhythm of the Home

Or this:

Source: The Child's Paper

Or even this:

Source: Pepper Paints

A perfect way to entertain the kids without a screen in sight.

Sadly, this still leaves the other problem with 'Screen Free Sunday"... me.

You see, whilst the kids were fine, I had to be told (several times) that "no, you can't look that up on the computer", 'yes, an iPhone still counts as a screen" and most depressingly of all "sorry, but you'll just have to record the Strictly Come Dancing results show."

It was torture.

Comments

[Thursday]

Many, many years ago I was a nanny to two boys, aged six and eight, the mother of whom was a scary woman who "did it all" except actually show any affection towards her children, the father of whom had run off with the previous nanny. The boys and I had a fine old afternoon one sunny day making mud pies in the garden and I got told off by said mother for indulging in such an unsuitable activity. I left after she accused me of telling her children exactly what activities their father was up to with the ex-nanny when, in fact, she'd frequently alerted them over the tops of their heads. I occasionally wonder how those children turned out and feel guilty that I didn't stick it out and continue to make mud pies with them, albeit in a secret mud pie kitchen.

[Dawn]

Thursday - You are so right. Mud pies maketh the man. The mother sounds like she could have done with some too - possibly in the face.

[JamesA-S]

I made a small mud pie yesterday.
In the guise of demonstrating to a contractor with limited English that the soil that he thought was topsoil was actually a nasty mixture of chalk,weeds and modelling clay.
It was probably more of a mud Hobnob than pie but the process was the same.

Good luck with screen free Sunday when it is freezing cold, raining outside and you are recovering from one of your "little episodes" where you get tied to a chair for your own safety.

[Thursday]

Indeed, in the face and preferably wash her mouth out with a mud pie for talking over the tops of her childrens heads and believing that they didn't hear her. I snickered on one of my last days tho' - one of the boys crept in to the shed which The Mother had errantly left unlocked, unbeknown to me, took a can of black spray paint and sprayed all the flowers in her garden black. When I asked him why he'd done it, he replied "You don't get really black flowers, I wanted to see what they were like". Fair point.