I carry a lot of guilt as a parent. I could spend the rest of my life trying to understand why and working to end it, but the present reality remains - I pretty much always feel like I'm not doing a good enough job.
As a recent case in point, we just returned from a family vacation at the beach, where I failed in my endeavor to be totally technology-free for the duration of the week. I deleted the apps on my phone, so that I wouldn't be tempted. I packed a book of crossword puzzles. I even daydreamed about returning to this blog and writing about the beauty of simplifying and slowing down. I made it exactly two days before I caved and checked to see what my friends were up to on Facebook. Once again, I clearly fell on one side of my good parent/bad parent internal debate. "Good parents" wouldn't ever let their smart phones distract them from the precious, fleeting moments they have with their children. They would also never feed their children processed foods, allow movies in the car, or drink wine in a locked bathroom at 4pm (I have failed in each of these endeavors, as well).
I was feeling pretty glum about the whole thing when my two-year-old daughter provided me with a welcome moment of clarity. After a busy morning at the seashore, she found me relaxing on the couch and reading, which I happen to do almost exclusively on my Kindle. She wanted me to catch her as she ran into my arms and sternly ordered the directive, "Put that down, Mommy. Put that down!"
For a fleeting, completely illogical moment, I wanted to defend my choice of using an electronic device in her presence. I mean, I was reading feminist theory, for crying out loud! (I'm probably not the target audience when Barnes and Noble sets up their 'Beach Reads' table, but I still think I'm pretty fun at a party.) And that's when it dawned on me, all at once:
She doesn't care.
She doesn't care if I'm reading bell hooks or the L.L. Bean catalog. To her, it's all the same. It's just what Mommy's doing when she's not playing with me.
I sat for awhile with the wonder of my childhood's equivalent. My parents were extremely supportive and made me feel very loved, but it was clear I wasn't their whole world. And I realized that so many of the things they did when they weren't giving me their undivided attention are things that now can be done on electronic mobile devices. Reading? Obviously. Playing games and puzzles? Yup. Watching the news, catching up with friends, paying bills? Check, check, and check. It seems as though I'm hearing about the perils of technology all the time; primarily, that we're losing our ability to "really connect."
And I suppose it could pose a problem for some. But, when you get down to it, I'm filling my days very much the way my own folks did - actively and responsibly parenting as well as taking care of themselves. Whether it's 1980 or 2015, there are lots of ways to do that.
So, can we stop vilifying the phone? I, for one, am going to cut myself a break with the technology. If I'm giving my children anything close to what my parents gave me, I'm doing a pretty darn good job. Part of that is making the conscious choice to be totally present with my family sometimes, leaving me available, as e exclaims, to "use two hands, Mommy! Two hands!"
As a recent case in point, we just returned from a family vacation at the beach, where I failed in my endeavor to be totally technology-free for the duration of the week. I deleted the apps on my phone, so that I wouldn't be tempted. I packed a book of crossword puzzles. I even daydreamed about returning to this blog and writing about the beauty of simplifying and slowing down. I made it exactly two days before I caved and checked to see what my friends were up to on Facebook. Once again, I clearly fell on one side of my good parent/bad parent internal debate. "Good parents" wouldn't ever let their smart phones distract them from the precious, fleeting moments they have with their children. They would also never feed their children processed foods, allow movies in the car, or drink wine in a locked bathroom at 4pm (I have failed in each of these endeavors, as well).
I was feeling pretty glum about the whole thing when my two-year-old daughter provided me with a welcome moment of clarity. After a busy morning at the seashore, she found me relaxing on the couch and reading, which I happen to do almost exclusively on my Kindle. She wanted me to catch her as she ran into my arms and sternly ordered the directive, "Put that down, Mommy. Put that down!"
For a fleeting, completely illogical moment, I wanted to defend my choice of using an electronic device in her presence. I mean, I was reading feminist theory, for crying out loud! (I'm probably not the target audience when Barnes and Noble sets up their 'Beach Reads' table, but I still think I'm pretty fun at a party.) And that's when it dawned on me, all at once:
She doesn't care.
She doesn't care if I'm reading bell hooks or the L.L. Bean catalog. To her, it's all the same. It's just what Mommy's doing when she's not playing with me.
I sat for awhile with the wonder of my childhood's equivalent. My parents were extremely supportive and made me feel very loved, but it was clear I wasn't their whole world. And I realized that so many of the things they did when they weren't giving me their undivided attention are things that now can be done on electronic mobile devices. Reading? Obviously. Playing games and puzzles? Yup. Watching the news, catching up with friends, paying bills? Check, check, and check. It seems as though I'm hearing about the perils of technology all the time; primarily, that we're losing our ability to "really connect."
And I suppose it could pose a problem for some. But, when you get down to it, I'm filling my days very much the way my own folks did - actively and responsibly parenting as well as taking care of themselves. Whether it's 1980 or 2015, there are lots of ways to do that.
So, can we stop vilifying the phone? I, for one, am going to cut myself a break with the technology. If I'm giving my children anything close to what my parents gave me, I'm doing a pretty darn good job. Part of that is making the conscious choice to be totally present with my family sometimes, leaving me available, as e exclaims, to "use two hands, Mommy! Two hands!"
