Resourcefulness

My youngest child is going to turn 5 next week.  I feel like my world is shifting into a new phase, and my brain is having trouble keeping up.  I don't have to be in 24/7 survival mode anymore, now that she has finally outgrown the terrible 2's (yes it really has taken almost 3 years).  It is liberating to know that she is no longer likely to run down the street on a grand expedition as soon as no adults are looking.  It is a comfort to not have to worry about small or sharp objects ending up in the lower four feet of the house, and how they could be used by a toddler to kill or maim.  Unfortunately, my brain has a more complex and abstract task thrust upon it.  In their infancy they demanded simple helps with survival, i.e. "I'm hungry" or "I'm cold"  or "My bodily waste is in an undesirable position."  The new demand requires a lot more consideration.  It usually comes in the form of two words in an unpleasant voice: "I'm bored."
Now with my kids, "I'm bored" can almost always be translated to mean "I want to play computer games."  This causes part of me to become infuriated.  Too many of their adult relatives have chosen full-time gaming as a career, and that offends my work-hard-or-die-trying upbringing.  I live in fear of the song, "Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be Warcraft widow-makers."  So, like any good over-analyzing, way-too-fast-forward-thinking mother, when I hear "I'm bored" I also hear "I'm going to live clinically depressed in your basement until I'm 40."  That's a good enough reason to be infuriated, right??
I rack my brain daily for a preventative cure for this eventuality.  Today I came up with an idea:  It's time for a "When I was your age..."  story about Resourcefulness.  It will go something like this:  "When I was your age (referring to A, who is 8), we didn't have cell phones or tablets or even decent laptops.  I don't know when Gameboys were invented, because my family couldn't have afforded one anyway.  My dad ran a gas station, and my mom was his bookkeeper.  I had to spend many hours at the station while my mom did the books.  I had no one to play with,  no computer, nothing to play with but a few basic office supplies.  Through this terribly boring tribulation, I learned Resourcefulness (and gained a great appreciation for MacGyver).  I tested the limits of paperclips, ran experiments on the lint in my mother's purse, studied the art on the dollar bill, sketched on whatever paper was available, and thought.  Think, think, think.  I did a lot of thinking, watching the boats that did nothing in the marina.  Seriously, why didn't those boats ever go anywhere?  While we're at it, what was that weird contraption with the dark liquid?  Mom yelled at me when I messed with it.  On a few awesome occasions, my brother used it to make hot chocolate.  But I digress.
"This resourcefulness helped me immensely in years to come.  School was boring on a regular basis.  I became incredibly well acquainted with the attributes of college ruled notebook paper (the most plentiful resource for entertainment).  Home was often boring.  I spent a lot of quality time with a puddle.  It's amazing how much I already knew about erosion when I started studying it at school.  When I went out into the world on my own, I was well equipped to become a poor college student.  I was trained in the art of finding ways to entertain myself (and anyone not easily frightened) without spending any money.  My husband says I'm frugal, but really, I'm just boring.  Boredom is the mother of resourcefulness."
There you have it.  I tell my kids to use their brains (instead of the computer) when they are bored.  I try to compliment them by saying they are fully capable of finding themselves something to do.  Not much of a compliment, now that I think about it.  They certainly don't act complimented.  They usually stomp off and play pretend computer games with each other.  That doesn't mean I'm doomed, does it?