Hello, my name is Ree, and my kids have been gadget-free for more than two months. And just like addicts subjected to rehab, the first few days of withdrawal were almost excruciating. There were tears, whining, and persistent over-loud asides of “I wish I could play with the iPad!” and “I just don’t know what to do!”—all the reasons why I started the gadget embargo in the first place.
It’s my fault why my girls’ addiction started. I’m a WAHM (work-at-home-mom) with no full-time help, and more often than not, I turn to gadgets as my go-to babysitter-entertainer-soother-briber extraordinaire. My older daughter Raine’s poison of choice was Disney Junior on cable. She was only two or so, but she knew the schedules of her favorite shows; in fact her day revolved around her TV shows. When I tried to curtail her screen time, horrific tantrums ensued. Fortunately, our geriatric TV conked out, and I didn’t have to put my parental mettle to the test. Yet. After a couple of days moping around, she was back to her chirpy self, puttering around the house while I worked, making a huge mess.
I thought I knew better when my second daughter, Breeze, came around. By then we had our cable subscription cut off, and I was adamant that we heed the advice of the American Association of Pediatrics—my font of most parental knowledge. They recommend no screen time at all for children the age of two and below. And for older kids (even teenagers), they recommend a daily maximum of two hours of parent-vetted screen time. But I found it so difficult to separate the girls when Raine had her daily screen time. I know, I know. I could have tried harder, or have been more creative in keeping Breeze otherwise occupied. Or I could have kept both girls screen-free. And so we drifted into a daily routine of a video or two a day (more than two hours!), which sometimes morphed into whole-day movie-ramas when I had deadlines.
Then came the iPad. And all those free educational apps. This was the one that got Breeze hooked and sucked into zoning out in front of a screen, swiping her finger across it. This was the thing that had her restless and cranky when it wasn’t iPad time. Raine was already in school most of the day, so the only other person Breeze had to interact with was me. And I gave her the iPad to get her off my back (and I mean that both literally and figuratively). It was lazy parenting at its finest.
And just why is screen or gadget time so dangerous? The reasons are legion. For one thing, numerous studies have shown that overexposure to passive media such as TV has been linked to speech delays and developmental delays. When kids are bent down over their glowing screens, they aren’t running around, talking to other people, playing with other toys, or actively using their imagination. And often, screen time is accompanied by mindless snacking, which is why it’s also linked to obesity. There even has been a study done on the stronger index finger—the one use for swiping—that interferes with the normal development of fine motor muscles, needed for writing, and pretty much anything that you do with your hands. Less outside physical play means less exercise, less opportunities to develop gross motor skills, less chances to interact with other kids, and less opportunities to invent and create.
I don’t need to read studies and reports though. I’ve seen this in my own kids. When I still allowed gadgets, they would be huddled on the couch, waiting for their turn with the iPad, and refusing to do other things. Or they would perfunctorily do required tasks, “Okay, mom, I ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, showered, changed to play clothes, read a book, and played with blocks. Can I use the iPad now?” I would need to bribe them to play outside (foolishly, I bribed them with more screen time: play outside first then you can use the iPad). And always, always, the inability to keep themselves entertained with anything other than the iPad or a video, the inability to sit quietly without a screen to mesmerize them.
Since the embargo though, they have been playing outdoors more. I allow them to play on the sidewalk outside our gate. Afternoons are spent digging—sometimes they’re gardening, sometimes they’re burying pirate treasure—climbing the solo tree growing by the gate, having picnics, watering the plants, and just plain running around. I hear them negotiate the politics of unicorns versus fairies, and discuss how many feet millipedes have (and whether mommy will let them bring one in the house). They read books under the tree. They make crafts in the garage. They eagerly wait for the clanging bells of mamang sorbetero, and have chased him down the street. And even better, the kids from the house beside us and from two houses down have come out to play as well. They play house and camping with the neighborhood kids. They actually talk to each other (we’ve been in this house more than eight years, and this is the first time the kids have spoken to each other). My kids start each day chirpy and bright-eyed and eager to go out and play, and they end it knocked out and sound asleep.
I admit that I am often tempted to give in to the lure of the electronic babysitter, especially when we’re out, and waiting for slow restaurant service, or when I want to have decent, uninterrupted adult conversation. And it takes much more effort to supervise kids careering outdoors, as opposed to kids zoned out on the couch. It takes willpower to read a book to my daughters, rather than let an app read to them while I check out Facebook. It takes lots of patience to let them be involved with dinner preparation rather than make them watch a video and not be underfoot. And it takes grace (and prayers!) to deal with the barrage of chatter, especially when I’m working on deadlines. And most of all, it’s difficult, even hypocritical, to preach that they be gadget-free when I spend more than half the day on my computer, checking my smartphone, and fiddling with my iPad.
My decision to get the kids as gadget- and screen-free as possible has also made me reevaluate my own media and gadget habits. Often I find myself mindlessly surfing, on the pretext of “research” and work. I check and refresh my Facebook feed more often than I check on my kids. I look at my phone last thing before I sleep and first thing when I wake up. Self-evaluation doesn’t make a pretty picture: I am a gadget addict myself.
But working to get the kids gadget-free also encourages me to switch off more often. I can now spend several hours on end without booting up, or without checking my feed. I feel antsy, but I force myself to think of what importance is knowing where my friends are eating right now in the grand scheme of things?
I don’t intend to keep my kids (or myself) gadget- or screen-free forever. After all, this is the digital age and those who can’t ride on it are at a severe disadvantage. And past the crucial early childhood stage, technology can be a very useful learning tool. And yes, a little high-tech fun—supervised and in moderation—can be a good thing. But they can easily pick up the skills much later. In the meantime, I’m not going to stop the old-school fun they’re having now.
Excuse me while I shut down and go outside and play.
This article first appeared in the July 2015 issue of 2nd Opinion.
