I adore my smartphone. It’s my personal assistant, answering any question I throw its way. It captures adorable moments of my kids, helps me get work done on-the-go, and keeps me connected to family and friends no matter where I am.
But I also despise it. The very fact that I can rely on it for answers means I hardly think for myself anymore. When I snap photos of my kids, I immediately feel compelled to upload them to Instagram, which distracts me from being present with them. Holding my phone often makes me feel like I should be working instead of simply enjoying the moment. It’s frustrating that anyone can reach me at any time, pulling me away from the beauty of actually living my life.
I know I’m not alone in this struggle; I see it everywhere—playgrounds, cars, grocery stores, crosswalks, movie theaters, and even during family gatherings. While many of us still feel a tug at our hearts reminding us that real-life interactions might be more valuable than playing a game with a stranger online, I’ve also noticed those who’ve fully surrendered to their screens, lost in a digital daze, scrolling through endless cat videos and distractions.
A few weeks ago, as we prepared to celebrate our daughter’s fifth birthday, she opted for a simple pool day with a Hello Kitty cake instead of a big party. We quickly packed up and headed to a hotel before she changed her mind. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief knowing I wouldn’t have to organize a million birthday activities.
As we strolled to the lovely heated outdoor pool, I patted my pockets and realized I had forgotten my phone in the room. At first, I felt a twinge of anxiety but thought, “I’ll take pictures later.”
Sitting poolside, I observed the scene around me. Every single parent nearby was glued to their phones, completely oblivious to the splashing and laughter of their children. Even parents in the hot tub were leaning over their screens, oblivious to the joy in front of them.
What scared me the most was the realization that if I hadn’t forgotten my phone, I would have been one of those distracted adults too. I’ve often defended my phone use, arguing that everyone deserves a break from kids and that we need to disconnect at times. However, witnessing all those parents entranced by their devices was alarming.
My kids were blissfully unaware, likely accustomed to seeing their parents checked out. They simply loved the attention I was giving them, asking me to throw pool toys again and again. Since their birth, they have watched us drift away into our screens. It’s become the norm for them, and I’m not sharing this to induce guilt or shame anyone. I write this as a wake-up call for myself. I refuse to be a smartphone zombie any longer.
Maybe we should intentionally leave our phones behind occasionally. Remember cameras? We once thrived without immediate access to Google or social media. Conversations can wait. Candy Crush can wait. The latest gossip? That can wait too.
But my kids? They’re growing up fast, and soon they won’t want me around to throw pool toys or cheer for their cannonballs.
Since that day at the pool, I’ve been making a conscious effort to leave my phone behind during outings to the playground, soccer games, or restaurants. It hasn’t magically solved all our problems; there are still squabbles and moments of annoyance. I often find myself reaching for that glowing distraction.
Yet, in the end, I’ve been experiencing life more fully. At least it feels real.
If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, check out this great resource for pregnancy and home insemination and explore the insightful ideas on this page about privacy. Also, take a look at this authority on the topic to guide you through your journey.
In summary, I’m challenging myself to unplug and engage more with my kids and the world around me. It’s time to stop being a smartphone zombie and start truly living.