An Experiment, In Seven Parts

My family spends way too much time sitting opposite screens.  For the boys, it's TV or video games.  Troy's drug of choice is any D-grade movie on Netflix. And my poison?  Games on Facebook.  I've said it before and I'll say it again: Candy Crush is pure evil.  This behavior is not without far-reaching consequences.  Our house is being neglected in a big way. The deck and landscaping project we were going to do this summer is going nowhere. A full 50% of us are obese. Worst of all, for me, is that there is not enough connectedness in our family.  I know that some of this is due to the fact that the boys are firmly in their teens and heading into high school.  If they still wanted me to get down on the floor and play Candy Land with them, I'd consult a therapist.  But when all four of us are home, eyes glued to our various screens as if sleeping with our eyes open, it just feels...wrong.

A tiny seed of an idea came to me at the start of summer break and has quickly grown into a fierce 'Little Shop of Horrors' man-eating monstrosity.  The more I thought about it, the more I liked it.  I waited to see how our summer would start to play out.  Would it be a nirvana of spontaneous picnics, free-wheeling drives to destinations unplanned, lying under the stars talking about our hopes for the future, and cooking all our meals with foods grown in our garden or purchased from the local farmers' market?  Or would it be like last year, when I was oh so sedentary due to my freshly diagnosed RA and blood clots in my leg, and by osmosis the four males in our home (Stink Dog included) became less active and less interesting?  Because as you may know, as Mama goes, so goes the household.

For most of their lives we've had strict guidelines on how much screen time the boys could have.  Last summer, we became much more relaxed about keeping track of their media consumption.  It was at the bottom of my list of problems, right after how to get Stink Dog to prepare and bring me refreshing beverages.  Additionally, I find that my Zoloft makes me much less concerned about cleaning bathrooms and balancing the bank account as I used to be.  As a result we've become far too lazy and accepting of a sub-par life.  There are so many things we could be doing - visiting museums, going to free concerts in the park, biking to new ice cream joints, crank-calling Mrs. Peach, the boys' horrific kindergarten teacher...

A few days ago I asked my family "what do you think about doing a screen-free week?"  Reactions varied.  Reid, who least needs to be pulled away from the hypnotizing rectangles of magic, was immediately enthusiastic.  He listed off things we could do with all our new free time and the benefits of taking a 7-day media break.  What a brown-noser.  Ian's take on the idea was precisely as I expected. "Nope.  Not gonna do it.",  with arms crossed, eyes closed and a firm shake of the head.  Sadly for him, he was born into a family that while democratic on things like how much clothing Mom must wear to go out in public, is a dictatorship on things that really matter.  Refusal noted and denied.  Stink Dog became very anxious, since he doesn't know what to do with himself when I'm not ensconced in my chair at the computer desk. Troy was cautiously supportive.  He liked the idea in theory but I wouldn't describe him as excited.  "I could see doing it during the week, but that's how I relax on the weekends" he whined protested.  Ah, but that's the point.  We relax ourselves into a near comatose state and when the hours pile upon hours we become too tired to do anything other than more of the same. Yes, Isaac Newton, I know you figured this out a long time ago.  Don't be so smug.  No one likes that guy.
 
Here we are on Sunday evening. The boys will likely watch 'Family Guy' or play some horrible "first-person shooter" video game (which I abhor, but that's another post) until they're tired enough to go to bed. Troy and I watched 'Big Brother' and then he retreated downstairs to watch some shitty movie starring Adam Sandler's younger half-cousin Shirl and Carlos Baldwin, the long-lost fifth Baldwin brother.  I've assumed my position in front of the computer and shall creep on Facebook and mentally list and silently berate myself for all the things I should have done today but didn't have the energy for.  We will get up tomorrow and it will be a whole new world in the Jarvi household.  I can't wait to see if this experiment will be a magnificent success, accomplishing all the things I want it to: more togetherness, more productivity, more exercise, more exploration, more creativity.  Or if we'll lose our minds and kill each other in a Hunger Games style frenzy.

Stay tuned.