“Step into the role of content creator and moderator for your family.”
When I read that line in Erin Loechner’s book, The Opt-Out Family, I drew a big star beside it. It got me thinking about how we, as a society, spend a significant amount of time creating “content” in the form of videos, reels, highly staged photos, etc. to post on social media, in hopes that online followers will validate our efforts with likes, comments, or shares. Those posts represent an enormous output of time and attention.
Now, what if we allocated that effort instead toward creating “content” for our own families, thinking about what our children might want or need in terms of entertainment or intellectual stimulation? Imagine if, instead of shovelling the most beautiful bits and pieces of our private lives into the voracious maw of the Internet, we preserved them and spent time trying to educate, amuse, and delight our own families.
As parents, we are the moderators of our own households. It’s up to us to set the tone for the home environment, through our moods and mannerisms, as well as the physical items we select for use and display in the spaces we inhabit. Just as Instagram posts and TikTok reels can be aspirational, sparking a desire to try something new, so can items within a home.
Loechner writes:
“In your home, are there inviting books readily available on a wide range of subjects? Are there inspiring prints, beautiful poetry, fine art on the walls? Can you pluck some daffodils to inspire happiness? Play some adagio to invite peace?”
She says household members should be able to “find what they need, when they need it,” and that decluttering can “promote new ideas and fresh space for all.”
I’ve written before about the importance of designing for offline play and how to create a home environment that sparks kids’ interests; but it doesn’t stop there. You can also curate a space for solitude, creativity, conversation, and more, if those are things you value in your life. How does one go about doing this?
Loechner quotes Joseph Addison, a 17th-century English essayist who said there are “three grand essentials of happiness: something to do, someone to love, and something to hope for.” If you take this framework and apply it to your children, it becomes easier to figure out what they might benefit from having in the home.
Something to do could be “a wide variety of tools or project starters in an organized, easy-to-find manner.” Whether your kid likes to tinker and build things or do crafts or sew or putter around the kitchen, you can set things up so that your child has a space to explore those interests. Something to do could also mean playing music (leave instruments out, if possible) or games, setting out puzzles or art supplies, or even helping with household chores, which gives kids a sense of purpose.
The library helped me with this, especially when my kids were younger. I’d stock up on new books every week, swapping out the old ones, and the kids would gobble them up. It was wonderful to have fresh (and free!) reading material, and it taught them a lot about the world, especially when we got into older books about science, geography, and history. It helps to have cozy nooks to read, with natural lighting or good reading lamps.
Someone to love could mean sleepovers and playdates with friends, spending time with siblings or cousins, or caring for a household pet (our hamster is a tremendous source of entertainment). For parents, this might mean doing more hosting, but it gets easier with practice and feels rewarding in the long run as you develop more social connections.
We have guests for dinner at least once a week, often more; these are usually informal midweek dinners, without the expectation of a spotless house or fancy meal, but it adds colour and interest to an otherwise ordinary day—and the kids get to meet all kinds of interesting people, while also refining their table manners.
As for something to hope for, Loechner says, “Keep a family calendar on the fridge and pencil in a few dates to look forward to.” Kids love to know what’s coming up, like a trip or a show or a birthday bash. You could make a bucket list of things they’d like to do over the coming year and hang it in a central spot for frequent inspiration.
We used to have a world map in our front hallway, and the kids would sit in front of it, studying the layout of the globe and discussing the various places they observed. I am certain it played a big role in sparking their interest in travel.
The idea of content creation extends to preparing food. A woman approached me after a recent talk I gave in Indianapolis and said that food must play a major role in my household. I said, “Yes!” The act of cooking is a form of (edible) content creation. It’s a magnetic attraction for my kids, who beeline for the kitchen, perch on stools at the island, and talk to me about their days. That wouldn’t happen if I didn’t spend time making food.
Music, too, is a powerful mood-setter. Instead of obsessing over the perfect song to accompany an Instagram reel, I think about songs or genres to set the tone for the moment. I’ve learned that my kids respond positively to calming music, whether it’s classical or jazz, whereas pop or dance music will immediately increase their energy. There’s a time for that—everyone loves a spontaneous kitchen dance party—but when we’re feeling overstimulated, there’s nothing like a soft jazz playlist (and a glass of wine) as I start dinner prep.
The idea of content creation or moderation can even extend to conversation topics around the dinner table. Forget Instagram polls; take some time to think about questions or issues you’d like to bring up with your kids. It can make a meal feel more focused, intimate, and engaging, if you’re able to moderate a stimulating discussion about something interesting or relevant in the news or your personal lives.
It is easy to let days happen passively, but with a bit of attention and care, you can direct them in ways that benefit your kids. Think of yourself as the architect of your own family dynamic, as someone who, to paraphrase writer Kim John Payne, “sets a tone that honours the family’s needs before the world’s demands.” Let your children be your most important followers.
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Would be useful to read a version of this that does not assume intensive parenting, affluence and leisure, or a home in the suburbs or country.
I was homeschooled in a 3 bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. 5 kids, parents and grandma. A lot of library books. Instead of hoarding possessions we visited museums and playgrounds. Material objects, curated and left sitting around a house, are not the only way to reliably form curious and intelligent children. I wanted to make that quite clear, for any homemaker or mother who reads this with a sigh of defeat and goes back to cutting coupons and organizing receipts.
Spot on, Katherine! Dr. Maria Montessori and Dr. Shinichi Suzuki are two of my most admired educator influences, and both stress the idea that the environment educates the child — it feels “natural” to them but it’s carefully planned by the parent. Whether your school / teacher is awful or amazing, your children will spend far more time in your home, and you control a lot more about the way life looks and feels there.
Re Liz’s comment: it’s very possible to step into a wealthy environment that feels alienating and cold, or a nurturing one where coupon-cutting also takes place. I’d go so far as to say most of us have probably experienced this reversal at some point!