Stage One: Denial
“Come on, Mom. That’s a good one,” my son said, turning back to the television. I couldn’t help but chuckle when he discovered the remote was missing, as it was clearly the only means to power on the TV. My children exchanged eye rolls, convinced I wouldn’t follow through with my plan. They believed they’d endure a few hours of this punishment before I caved. However, I remained resolute, and soon they transitioned into the next stage.
Stage Two: Anger
The shrieks began, accompanied by dramatic displays of rolling on the floor and stomping up and down the stairs. My preteen daughter dramatically lifted her arms to the sky and yelled, “Why!?” Amid the chaos of tears and fury, they united to stage a protest against what they deemed the most unreasonable mother on the planet. They even crafted signs, two of which were particularly memorable:
Stage Three: Bargaining
When their protests failed to sway me and the remote remained out of reach, they resorted to negotiation. With sweet, pleading voices, they promised to behave and put their laundry away. If I returned their precious devices, they would gladly clean the garage and pull weeds in the yard. “Just a few hours of TV, please,” they pleaded, resembling addicts cut off from their supply.
Stage Four: Depression
After the exhausting efforts of screaming, protesting, and begging, they eventually wore themselves out. They slumped around like lethargic sloths, lamenting the “tragedy” of living in the dullest house ever. They resisted any activity I suggested, choosing instead to wallow in their discontent. One of them even took a nap, further illustrating their state of despair.
Stage Five: Acceptance
After a challenging 36 hours, my children finally recognized that I wasn’t going to relent. They entered the final phase of their electronic grief, and then something wonderful occurred: an elaborate blanket fort emerged in the dining room. Suddenly, my teenage son was interacting with his younger sisters, and they constructed a grand structure made of linens and cushions.
Creative ideas began to flourish. They took the dog for long walks, set up a lemonade stand, searched for lizards in the yard, and even transformed the kitchen into a nail salon. My favorite moment was witnessing my daughters turn a large cardboard box into an imaginary ship that transported them to London (aka the guest room), complete with tiaras and British accents.
This was the summer experience I had envisioned. While there were still sibling squabbles and a few additional requests for their devices, we engaged in meaningful conversations, and time felt as if it slowed down. At the week’s end, I released the electronic devices from their confinement. The children rejoiced at the return of their digital companions, but our household felt subtly different following this experiment. They seemed slightly less fixated on technology—a positive step forward. Perhaps next summer, we’ll extend this experiment to two weeks.
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In summary, the journey through my children’s emotional responses to a temporary absence of technology brought unexpected creativity and connection among them. The challenge proved beneficial, promoting engagement in imaginative activities and fostering stronger family bonds.