Now I must admit that I have barely begun writing this and I already feel slightly hypocritical. The aim of this post is to start an open dialogue about how much screen time is appropriate for both us and our children. And here I am in front of a screen. I’ll grant myself that I am at least typing with the computer in my lap while watching Mulan with the family, but nonetheless, I am plugged in.
My husband and I have always prided ourselves on how well we monitor our children’s screen time – this includes TV, computers, gaming or any other so-called device. We made a rule several years ago that screen time would be limited to thirty minutes on school nights. While we are more lax on weekends, we still try to be mindful of just how much time they’re spending plugged in versus engaging with the world around them. We are not always successful with striking the right balance. I have too often found myself handing over my phone to one of my children just so I can have a few more minutes of uninterrupted adult conversation. And to what end? What is the real reason we limit our children’s time on devices? I have always told myself that it is to encourage them to learn to interact with other people. They need to develop social skills that can only be learned by, well, by being social. We don’t let our ten year old have a phone although many of her peers do because we are concerned with just how much time she would spend on it, isolated and disengaged from the world around her. I have patted myself on the back many times because I’m the “mean mom” when it comes to technology. And yet, I was reminded today that I don’t apply the same limits to my own screen time.
“I’m an adult,” I reason. “I know how to converse with people, so it won’t hurt to spend hours on my phone.” But it’s not all about me. I had the rare pleasure of shopping alone with my oldest today, and on the way home, we stopped for some carry out. We walked hand in hand into the restaurant, placed our order, joked with the cashier and sat down at a table to wait on our order. Immediately, almost as if by instinct (or more likely habit), my hand went to my purse and out came my phone. My daughter was looking around the restaurant, noticing the paintings on the walls, the number of people waiting, the new floors that had been installed since we visited last. And me? I was plugged in, completely oblivious to the world around me, even my own daughter. I had checked Facebook, read a few emails and texted a friend, all before I noticed my daughter just staring at me, her chin resting on her hands. What was she thinking? She was looking at me with admiration, and I was feeling ashamed. That’s when I put the phone away. I unplugged from my device and engaged with my daughter.
We ended up spending the next fifteen minutes playing hand clapping games I hadn’t played in years. Apparently she plays the same games on the playground that I played 25 years ago – a fact I would have been oblivious to had I stayed plugged in. We played “Down by the banks,” “Double double this this,” and “Slap Jack.” I was even able to teach her a few things. She was really surprised at how fast her mom was. I think I was just as surprised. One time I accidentally broke one of her finger nails in my haste to slap her hands before she could move them away. It was only fifteen minutes, a rather insignificant amount of time. But it was significant to her that we were face to face and not face to screen. It was significant to me that she was laughing and enjoying herself and I was a part of it.
I don’t know what the right amount of screen time is. I don’t have a magic number of minutes that children can be plugged in and still learn valuable social skills. I don’t even know that it’s the same for all children and families. I do know, however, that today it was important that I was unplugged and engaged for that fifteen minutes. I know that this weekend we had more together time than time apart. I know that spending our Saturday evening carving pumpkins with friends will make more of an impression on our girls than any YouTube video will. I also know that if I want my girls to learn to engage with the world around them, then I have to be willing to do the same.
So, I encourage you to share your stories. How do you decide when screen time is or isn’t appropriate? What rules do you have about devices? I know we don’t allow any devices at family meal time, for adults or children. Does that work for you? Or have you found something else that works for your family? And I implore you to learn from my mistakes. Set the example for your children of how to unplug and engage by starting to engage with them. Play hand slapping games, tell stories of when they were little or just laugh about something silly. Everything we do makes an impression on our children; let’s strive to have the good outnumber the bad. And let’s start by unplugging and engaging.
Life unplugged…pumpkin carving with no devices.
well said, mary lynn. it grieves my spirit to see families at restaurants, all on their phones and not interacting with each other on a face to face level. Thank you for your genuine transparency.
There has always been technology. It makes me laugh when students tell me that in earlier times there was no technology. I love to tell them, that at one time, a long time ago, the yellow, wooden pencil was considered high tech. They always laugh, but I explain that high technology is nothing more than something that makes things easier or more efficient at the time. LOL. someone discovered fire a long time ago; that technology changed many things.
You pointed out, beautifully, I must add, that the most important thing we can give our family and friends is our time. Who knows what will be available, technology-wise, in the future. The more important question is this: will we be able to balance our time? Will we use technology to make us more productive when necessary, or will we use it to fill a void in our lives, and thereby avoid intimate relationships with those who truly need our attention ?
thank you for such an important and timely post.