Hypocritical parents turning children into phone addicts
They say mobiles ruin family meals — but still use their own!
CROUCHING under the table to clean up spilt milk the other night, I heard the dreaded Peppa Pig theme tune start up. My four-year-old daughter Annie had taken the opportunity to press play on her iPad — in the middle of dinner.
Half a roll of kitchen towel later, I sat back down and began a wellworn speech that l argely goes ignored by my three children: ‘From now on, there will be no phones, no iPads, no technology at the table.’
Just as I was about to launch into the importance of family meal times, my 11-year-old son Eddie’s phone sprang into life: he stole a furtive glance at me before checking it. Following his brother’s lead, Sammy, seven, started swiping his screen.
Eyes pricking with frustration, I retreated to the kitchen to reheat my by then cold dinner, fearful of bursting into tears in front of them. The irony of what I did next did, admittedly, escaped me but not my husband Jon. When he found me perched by the microwave, gazing at my phone, he snapped: ‘ You’re no better. And don’t pretend it’s a nything i mportant; I saw Facebook on your screen...’ Cue pangs of guilt.
According to the latest research, I am far from the only hypocrite setting a bad example. Child health education specialist Dr Aric Sigman last week said that children pick up an internet and technology obsession f rom their parents in much the same way that they learn manners.
While my three have lots of good habits l earned f rom me ( they always put their knife and fork together after a meal, ask if they can leave the table and eat whatever I put in front of them), they also have me to thank for their varying degrees of iPad obsession.
Dr Sigman says that parents need to have ‘screen-free dinners’ so technology does not ‘ amputate’ family dialogue.
You may wonder how it got to the point where my family took iPads to the dinner table in the first place — or you may empathise. Either way, it started with me checking emails; fearful of missing work queries. Gradually the children followed suit.
I realise it has to stop. Not only does Dr Sigman say a technology obsession can affect a child’s mental health and how they cope with homework, but it is a major bone of contention with my husband. The moment I got my f i rst smartphone in 2007, I f ound myself constantly checking emails, browsing Face - book, texting friends and taking, looking at or editing pictures.
It feels like an itch that permanently needs a scratch, like something is missing if I don’t have it in my hands or pocket at all times and beside the bed at night.
ONLY through keeping a diary for this article did I find that I spend up to three hours a day on my iPhone. That is about 18 hours a week, 936 hours a year, 7,488 hours since I got my first phone. That is 312 days, almost a year of my life, glued to a tiny screen.
On the plus side, it has made me a multitasker extraordinare: I never just ‘ make dinner’, I do so while finalising an eBay bid, returning a work email and ‘liking’ a friend’s pictures. There is not a single grey cell that is not constantly engaged and it is pretty exhausting. So if I feel like that, how must my children feel?
When Eddie was born I would not let anyone on a mobile phone hold him in case the waves fried his brain: fast-forward 11 years and he is on his iPad as much as I am on my phone. I did not consciously change my opinion. It j ust happened.
Eddie was eight when he started begging for an iPad, having started to use mine more and more. I told him if he saved enough he could get one. We have a large extended family and one Christmas and a birthday later, he had enough money. Initially he was allowed to use it only at weekends, but then came the homework he needed to look up online, closely followed by a quick play after t hat was completed. Sammy and Annie followed suit, saving up for iPads too. I am c aught between feeling guilty and knowing that they need to be au fait with technology in this digital age. Last week, however, I stood firm, telling the children that there would be no iPads during the week or at the dinner table. How did they take this? If they could have reported me for neglect they would have done so.
‘I need to get online for school,’ argued Eddie. He does maths through the school’s online portal. He doesn’t have a PC or laptop as another option. With three pleading, outraged, upset and insolent faces staring at me, I headed upstairs and Googled: ‘How to limit kids’ screen time.’
Emboldened by Dr Sigman’s comments, for the first time since I bought it, I actually turned my phone off. Completely. I left it in the bedroom and headed downstairs, telling the children to grab their wellies as we were off for a walk.
‘I don’t want to, that’s boring,’ shouted Sammy. But an hour later, they were all ruddy-faced and short of breath. They all had fun.
Now, a week on, the week-day ban is still in place, although I have relented slightly: there is half an hour usage awarded f or good behaviour, so long as it is used for maths or literacy games.
It’s too early to notice any fundamental changes, but the Lego that had been gathering dust in their bedrooms now lies scattered across the living room floor. And Peppa Pig is, thankfully, absent from mealtimes, replaced by good oldfashioned chatter.