Sometimes I look at my kids and think about how different their childhood is from mine.

They have more than I ever had.

More toys. More clothes. More entertainment. More choices. They have tablets, streaming services, video games, smartphones, and almost unlimited access to information. If they want to watch something, it’s there. If they want to hear a song, it’s there. If they’re bored, there are a thousand things waiting to entertain them.

And yet, sometimes I wonder if they’re actually happier.

When I was a kid, boredom was normal.

We went outside because there wasn’t much to do inside. We rode bikes without having a destination. We knocked on a friend’s door because there was no group chat to ask if everyone was available.

Sometimes nobody was home.

You survived.

I don’t remember my parents feeling responsible for entertaining me every minute of the day. They didn’t organize every afternoon. They didn’t worry if I spent an hour doing absolutely nothing.

Today, parenting feels different.

We’re constantly trying to make sure our children have enough. Enough activities. Enough opportunities. Enough experiences. Enough technology. Enough things.

Maybe we’ve confused giving our children more with giving them better.

I’ve noticed something else too.

The more entertainment my kids have available, the faster they seem to get bored.

A new game is exciting for a few days. A new device becomes normal almost immediately. A family trip can somehow compete with whatever is happening on a six-inch screen.

I’m not blaming them.

They’re growing up in the world we created for them.

And I’m part of it.

I’ve bought the devices. I’ve paid for the subscriptions. I’ve handed over my phone when I needed ten quiet minutes. I’ve said, “Go watch something,” because I was tired.

Most parents have.

But lately I’ve been asking myself whether childhood needs more things or fewer things.

Maybe kids need time when nothing is happening.

Maybe they need to invent games because there isn’t an app available.

Maybe they need to be bored long enough to become creative.

Maybe they need more conversations with adults, more afternoons outside, more scraped knees, more arguments with friends that can’t be solved by blocking someone.

My children have opportunities I could only dream about when I was their age, and I’m grateful for that.

I don’t want to take the modern world away from them.

I just don’t want the modern world to take their childhood away either.

Sometimes giving our children less might actually give them more.