We Raised Our Kids With No Screens and This is What it Looks Like Now.
What happens when idealism meets high school culture.
It’s true. We raised our kids with no screens.
No phones. No gaming systems. No TV. No tablets.
Well, we do have a TV in the far corner of the basement, next to our guest bed mattress that’s on the floor and covered with pillows and squishmallows. We check out a movie from the library or Prime every now and then and have family movie night.
We’re a very hybrid family. Our daughter’s friends tell her she is the most “home-schooled-like” public school kid they know.
For years we held the line. Minimum screens. Maximum imagination. Books, art supplies, hiking trails, camping, local theater, piano, more books, actual conversations. We were holding back the flood of static that tries to swallow childhood whole. And we’ve done pretty well.
Enter high school.
It all came crashing down when our daughter started 9th grade. We could not let her go to high school without a phone. The social system is not built that way anymore. She already gets ostracized enough for having seaweed and a book for lunch. She eats books like I throw back protein shakes and fiber. At least she used to. Before the phone.
It has been a battle to keep screens at bay now. The kids are glued to the screens like it’s a lifeline. The umbilical cord to “connection” and non-boredom.
It breaks my heart. I wanted so much more to come out of all those years of not giving in to the mainstream current. I wanted them to be awake to the world around them. To not disappear into the fog. To stay connected to what’s real.
I still want this. More than anything for our kids, for me, for the world.
But I’ve felt like a hypocrite. An underqualified spiritual guide. A mother who preaches presence but loses it more often than not. A woman who knows God is here and now but who still clouds up and freaks out over screen time reports and chores resistance.
I’m great at Mothering. I know that. I’m a lion Mother, always on guard, ready to pounce if I sense harm coming. And I’m psychic. We all are. I’m just aware of mine more and more. So I see what I perceive as harm coming before it hits the horizon.
And I’ve always loved cooking. When I was pregnant with my now 28 year old son we lived in Austin, Texas. It was my 1st baby belly. Basketball. In the heat of Texas summer. So I stayed in the bounty of neighborhood pools and the limestone spring-fed swimming holes. And in the AC watching cooking shows. There are so many great healthy markets in Austin. It’s where I learned about all the weird stuff. Sprouts. Jicima root. Raw nut butter sauces.
So I must pat my own back. I’m a good cook. From a line of good cooks. Only I’ve added health to our meals. And they don’t even know it. Shhhh!
We bought a van a few years ago in part so I could be a carpool Mom. I love driving. I have no idea why. I just do. I think it has something to do with my psychic abilities. It’s like all my antinas are out, including the one extending from my 3rd eye. And I get to navigate this world in this powerful machine. It’s just fun for me. So when afternoons come and the afterschool stuff starts up, for three kids now (including our Madrid exchange student) I’m good with it. I have no dread. It’s another one of the Mom hats I enjoy wearing.
There’s lots of things about being a mother I love and cherish. But there are also the parts where I hold on too tightly. The teaching moments I take too seriously. Especially the spiritual ones. Especially the ones where I feel like it’s my job to wake my kids up before the world puts them to sleep.
I’ve carried this pressure to reach some enlightened level before they leave home. Like if I can crack the code of awakening, I can pass it on to them so they remember earlier. I want them to know they are not their ego. They are not their stories. They are God essence flowing through a body. They do not have to spend decades suffering the current human experience before they remember.
If only I could get them to see it. If only I could show them. If only I could reach them before the static gets too loud.
Enter the damn phones.
I hate those things. We’re gonna have a crack down. It’s gotten too sloppy. It’s gonna take commitment on my part. And my husband’s. It was more his doing than mine. And I’m grateful he pushed the idea for no screens. Now we have to reinstate the damn boundaries and structures.
Boundary holding is not my favorite part of mothering. It sucks. But it’s more important than beans and rice. And kale. Yes, even more important than kale.
The egos are going to rise up. They’re going to have a “No Queens” day protest.
But I’m turning in the cloak of “I’m-a-spiritual-guide-imposter.”
And I’m wielding the wand of truth. Which at the moment sounds a lot like:
Give me the f**ing phone.
Wishing you the strength to hold the boundaries for your outer and inner children.
💚✨ Dancing on the Edge of Enlightened
—Edge Dancer · Connie
We have SO much in common, Connie. Healthy food, minimal screen-time, books, books, and more books! 🥰
I have wished I had allowed less screen time, and also, I know it's all water under the bridge now. For me, it was a reward for getting school work done. Especially, once we'd left town, and they didn't have neighbor kids to play with anymore.
Anyway, we did and continue to do the best we can. I've learned SO much more SINCE, and I'm thankful to converse with my kids and just allow them to parent as they see fit, because I still don't know "how best" to raise a child!!
First of all...I've rarely seen a woman saying they're a damn good mom! So kudos to you on that Connie! And as rick said, don't discount the screen free years and the life you've already given them!