(With apologies to Prince for borrowing the title of his song…) 

My daughter has not as yet been afflicted with the short-attention-span menace that seems to affect so many of the younger generations.  She can still sit and stare, as if for the first time, at the same cartoons on PBS, the same “Thomas the Tank Engine” video, the same books, over and over.  Every day.

Don’t get me wrong; we buy her new stuff.  New books, new videos, new stuffed animals.  But time and again she falls back on the familiar ones, the tried-and-true rote play that seems to entertain her the most.  And while her minimalism and ease of self-entertainment is a nice concept, in reality, it makes me – and the other caregivers who have to endure the monotony – want to run screaming from the house.  As in, “if I have to watch the same Christmas-themed episode of ‘Thomas’ one more time, I’m gonna climb a clocktower with a high-powered rifle.”

I jest, of course.  Mostly.

I suppose this should be an expected downside to the mantra of “children crave routine” that’s been drilled into so many parents’ heads.  Yes, it’s nice to have a predictable framework for the day.  But when the minutiae in said framework is the same, all the time, it gets a bit hard to take for the over-2 set.  I love spending time with my daughter playing with her stuffed animals, but how many conversations can I have that are “ ‘Hello, Red Bird, how are you?’ ‘I’m fine, Ducky, how are you?’ ‘Let’s go to my house.’ ‘OK.’ ” 

She wants to play with the same blocks over and over.  She wants to go for the same walk outside.  She wants me to sing the same songs every night at bedtime.  Yes, I am glad she finds comfort and calm in these things.  And I’m certainly not worried I have a future “Rainman” on my hands.  But it will be a big change in my life when that inevitable switch is thrown and she, like most other kids, is no longer satisfied with any diversion for more than a minute.  Soon enough, the Consumerism Beast will rear its ugly head, no matter how much I try to prevent it from happening.

In the meantime, I will sing “You Are My Sunshine” for the millionth time.  I will hide the stuffed animals in the same locations.  And I will worry that I’m finding The Man in the Yellow Hat from “Curious George” strangely attractive…