It was around 2 p.m. when I found myself bedridden, battling a nasty flu. My 9-year-old son, Max, approached me and said, “I know you’re not feeling well. I won’t bug you if you let me have some screen time.”
I turned to face him. He was a compact kid, wearing a bright green gaming shirt and shorts, one arm crossed over his chest while the other rested at his side. His hair was tousled and his expression was serious. He was clearly intent on his mission.
My wife, Sarah, had taken our two youngest daughters out for errands, leaving me home with Max. I had agreed he could stay with me after he expressed his reluctance to join them at the store. Little did I know, he hadn’t completed his list of chores—a set of tasks he needed to finish in order to earn screen time—and now he was ready to pester me for that iPad.
“Did you finish your list?” I inquired.
“I did most of it,” he replied, a red flag instantly waving in my mind. “Most of it” typically meant he had completed very little.
Earlier this year, we had bought tablets for all our children, thinking they would engage with educational apps. We believed it would be beneficial for their learning. However, the truth was we wanted some peace and quiet at home. There’s something comforting about handing a child a tablet after a long day at work. In my early parenting days, I’d turn on kids’ shows just to gain a brief respite. Now, with tablets, I can keep my kids occupied for hours on end.
Admittedly, when all three kids are glued to their screens, my house turns into a serene oasis. However, these devices are as addictive as street drugs. Although they provide me with a break, I constantly find myself fighting to limit my children’s screen time.
Managing what apps they use, what they watch on YouTube, and the internet in general has become a fundamental aspect of parenting in 2016. My children bypass traditional Saturday morning cartoons, opting instead to watch influencers play video games or unbox toys. It’s all perplexing to me and far from educational. The endless stream of entertainment available today is a stark contrast to my own childhood, where kid-friendly content was limited and not accessible 24/7.
To address this, we devised a chore chart that essentially turned screen time into a form of currency. My children prioritize screen time over money; they will do anything for an opportunity to play. Max can earn screen time for completing tasks like taking out the trash or tidying his room. The kids have a daily checklist: brush their teeth, get ready for the day, clean their spaces, and engage in something productive or creative. Screen time has become the primary incentive in our household.
I’ll admit, last week, I had Max cleaning up after our dog with a big grin on his face because I promised him 45 minutes of screen time. But this arrangement has also turned my kids into clever little negotiators. Since getting the tablets, my daughter has pretended to be sick multiple times, hoping for a repeat of the one time we allowed her to use the iPad while resting. Max has lied about finishing his list just to earn screen time, and I’ve caught them sneaking off to the bathroom to play games. They’ve even reset the timer on the iPad behind my back to gain extra playtime.
In one instance, Max tried to barter with me, suggesting that if I let him have screen time, he wouldn’t tell Sarah about the time I accidentally sprayed her flowers with weed killer. I’ve even had my daughter offer to let me take a nap in exchange for additional screen time.
Negotiating screen time has become a bit like dealing with a street vendor—there’s always some back-and-forth. While I can admire their resourcefulness, the reality is that we have raised kids who are overly fixated on screens.
So, there I was, lying in bed, feeling vulnerable. Max clearly recognized that I was in no condition to fight back, and he saw an opportunity. I sat up to confront him. “If you didn’t finish your list, you can’t have screens. You know the rules.”
His shoulders slumped as he began to whine, “Please, Dad.”
I raised my hand to interrupt him. “Max, I’m really sick right now. I don’t appreciate you trying to negotiate screen time when I’m down. You don’t take advantage of someone when they’re feeling low.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “We both know that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
He looked down, defeated. I asked him what he had actually completed from his list. As we discussed it, I helped him see that finishing his remaining tasks wasn’t too daunting, and I even offered him extra screen time if he would heat up some soup for me.
“Help me, and I’ll help you. That’s how it works,” I explained.
He didn’t seem thrilled with the compromise, but he accepted it. In the end, we shook hands as if sealing an important business deal. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” I said, and Max smiled as he headed to the kitchen.
It’s a tricky balance, managing screen time and household responsibilities, but we’re navigating this digital age one negotiation at a time. If you want to learn more about navigating parenthood in the digital age, check out this great resource on home insemination as well as e-cigarettes for insights on how to manage various aspects of modern life. And if you’re contemplating parenthood, this is an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
Parenting in the digital age presents unique challenges, particularly when screen time becomes a bargaining chip for children. As families negotiate chores in exchange for tablet time, children often become inventive in their attempts to earn that coveted screen time. This article highlights the delicate balance between managing screen use and maintaining household responsibilities.