I did not realize I was writing a three-part series until I arrived here at part three and the question which troubles me every day.

How busy should kids be?

No, wait, that’s not quite right.

How busy should I make my kids be?

My kids are mostly uninterested in extracurricular activities. They are currently both participating in piano lessons and swim lessons. They tolerate these activities, mostly. We’re really limping to the finish line on piano lessons here, and absolutely nobody was excited to perform in the piano recital last weekend. I sat in the audience and clapped for my kids when they bowed and even though I was proud and happy to be there I still wondered if it was really worth it to force them to do this.

We had an unusual experience recently in that my youngest found an activity he wanted to try, an obscure martial art that I hadn’t even heard of before, but we found a dojo and got him started in the spring. I have never had a kid sign himself up for something before, and it was so refreshing to have him excited to go to the practice sessions and proud to come home and show his brother what he had learned.

But all good things come to an end, and this particular good thing ended around the six-week mark.

“It’s just not for me!” he protested when we told him it was time to go to practice that week. “I tried it, and I decided I don’t like it! Don’t make me go!”

“You can’t quit on a bad day!” I told him. “Keep going for now and we can talk about this again next week!”

That line bought us one more good week of practice, but the next week I found myself sitting in my car in front of the dojo in a stalemate with my nine-year-old who refused to get out.

“I don’t even care if you take away screen time!” he insisted. “I’m done! I’m not going anymore! I don’t want to go! You can’t make me go!”

So what is the point of signing our kids up for extracurriculars they don’t want to do in the first place? The best-case scenario is that they just needed a little push to discover some new activity that will bring them joy and a sense of satisfaction in the years to come. The worst-case scenario is months of resentment for being forced to do an activity, and massive battles to get them to actually get their asses in the car and go to these activities every week.

A high risk, high reward proposition if there ever was one, and I am no ambitious entrepreneur. I’m just a mom who is still grieving the fact that they both quit chess club years ago and refuse to go back.

But I also try to remember that childhood is not forever, and adulthood is full of new opportunities. Sure, my youngest refuses to do Lego Robotics League now, but maybe in his 20s he’ll take up embroidery. Maybe it’ll be scuba diving or cross-country skiing. Maybe my oldest will write really great One Piece fanfic and make great fanfic friends and end up in long-term, weirdly fulfilling book club with them. We just don’t know what the future holds.

For now, their futures hold piano lessons. But I would be willing to give that up if it allowed them to find their true passion elsewhere, even if it’s embroidery.