Screens, Boredom, and a Way Back to Peace
The exhaustion of solo parenting is fully upon me. I think about it for a split second and just want to make dinner in peace. I choose one of the three shows we allow the children to watch and turn on the TV. Peace…for now. After a few days of turning it on here and there I wonder why the pushback? Why the whiny voices? Why the inability to listen to an instruction and obey when we have worked so hard in attention and obedience? Then the thought dawns: screens. My children become chameleons for any people with whom they spend time, so why would a screen be any different?
I want to share a story with you. Maybe it will sound familiar.
Anna was having one of those mornings. The baby was fussy, the dishes were piling up, and her four-year-old, Nora, was in a full meltdown. The problem? A tablet. Nora wanted to watch something again, and when her older brother said no, it turned into hitting, shouting, and tears. Anna put the screen away on the highest shelf she could reach and sat down on the hallway floor. Her heart was heavy. She whispered, “What are we even doing?”
Later that day, she messaged a friend and asked, “Is it even realistic to raise kids without screens? Because this doesn’t feel like it’s working.”
Maybe you have asked that same question. I know many mothers who have.
The good news is yes. It is realistic. It is not easy at first, but it is good and deeply worth it.
Charlotte Mason didn’t live in an age of tablets or television, but she understood that a child’s mind is a living thing. She warned against overstimulation and distraction and instead called us to offer real, noble, and beautiful things to our children. Screens are often loud, passive, and empty. They may seem to bring calm in the moment, but over time they tend to produce the very opposite—restlessness, discontent, and a craving for more. You may be noticing that in your child already.
When children become easily frustrated, complain often of boredom, or lose interest in play or stories, it is not because they are “bad.” But it may be a sign that their inner life is being dulled instead of nourished. A mentor once told me something I will never forget: “Boredom is a moral failing. It is a refusal to engage with the world around you.”
That might sound hard, but it is actually freeing. Because it reminds us that boredom is not something we must constantly fix. It is something we can gently call our children out of and invite them into real engagement again.
So what do we do?
Begin simply. Set the screens aside for a time. Let your child know that your home will be filled with real things. Stories. Songs. Handwork. Chores. Muddy boots. Long walks. Time in the kitchen beside you. Ordinary beauty.
It may not be easy in the first few days. Your child may cry or push back or declare that nothing is fun anymore. Stay close. Be kind, but firm. They are not really angry with you. They are just learning how to see again.
Anna made the change. She traded Nora’s screen time for hours outside, quiet chores, baking days, and picture books on the sofa. A few weeks later, she wrote, “She is calmer. I am calmer. It is still messy, but we feel like ourselves again.”
And one more thing. If we are asking our children to put screens away, we must be willing to do the same. Not in guilt or fear, but in love. They notice when we are elsewhere, when we check out instead of joining in. They need our presence, not our perfection. A quiet rescue for our children will mean one for us as well.
Helping Children Learn to Play Quietly
Learning to self-entertain is a skill, and like any skill, it must be taught gently and built slowly. Many modern children have never had to develop the muscle of quiet occupation, but they are capable of it—and it is a gift to them.
Begin with short, clearly defined times—just 10–15 minutes at first—where your child is expected to stay in one place with a simple, engaging task. Gradually increase this time as their ability grows.
Here are some quiet, independent activities to try:
A basket of wooden animals, small dolls, or fabric scraps for imaginative play
Lacing cards or stringing large wooden beads
A tray with a small pitcher and cup for pouring water or dry beans
A bowl of rocks, pinecones, or buttons to sort or arrange
Play silks or fabric squares to fold, tie, or use in play
A clipboard with blank paper and colored pencils
Simple puzzles or shape sorters
A tub of water and cups (on a towel or outdoors)
A story tape or audio hymn while they sit with crayons and paper
Modeling beeswax or playdough
Stacking blocks or nesting cups
A quiet corner with a few picture books and a cozy blanket
Set up a small space that belongs to them, and make it beautiful. Rotate materials every few days to keep their interest. And most importantly, tell them, “You are learning to enjoy your own company. This is a good thing.”
A Sample Daily Rhythm Without Screens
Morning
Wake, dress, simple breakfast together
Read aloud one picture book or Bible story
Outdoor time: walk, backyard, nature play
Snack and a chore (folding laundry, sweeping, watering plants)
Midday
Simple lunch together
Rest or quiet time (books in bed, music, drawing)
Read aloud again—something rich and engaging
Open-ended play indoors or outdoors
Afternoon
Help in the kitchen or garden
Music or handwork (singing, finger knitting, baking)
More outside time if possible
Evening
Family dinner
One short story or poem
Tidy and prepare for bed together
This rhythm is not a rule but a guide. Let it breathe. Let it bend with your family. But let it hold space for the beautiful, ordinary work of growing up without a screen.
