As a parent, I’ve found my smart phone to be a god-send. If it’s in the middle of the night, and my child is up for a feeding, I can check email or play a game so that I’m not “engaging” her when she should be eating and then falling back asleep. Or the light is great for when I can’t find her pacifier. Or the web app is ideal for 3:00 am searches if I can’t get back to sleep after she’s asleep because I’m wondering (worried?) about some development question. Or my children love the sound of Atlanta Nana’s voice, and I’ve been known to call her or play her voicemails over the Bluetooth in the car to soothe them while I drive.
You can always tell when I’m on maternity leave by my Facebook activity, not just the endless pics of my cute kids but also how often I can be on. I tend to have a lot of “free time” at odd hours.
But then, what about the other times? When it’s in the middle of the day, and I’m thinking, “Please just go back to sleep so I can play Freecell?” Or saying, “Mommy just needs to send this text of your cute face to your grandparents and aunts, I’ll be with you in a sec”? It seems natural in this “connected age,” but then I think, am I a bad parent? (For the former scenario, probably. For the latter scenario, can you blame me?)
There was a blog post not too long ago about “Texting While Parenting,” which noted the psychological and socio-emotional effects of using a smart phone while your child is awake instead of engaging them. This was followed up by numerous articles in October about the physical danger of smartphone use. Great—now parents need to add another reason to feel guilty or fear about their parenting skills?
Then I remembered a Yom Kippur service years ago, before I was a parent to a 2-year old and 3-month old. The rabbi said something about “10% is showing up, 90% is being there.” (I didn’t write it all down, something about not writing on a High Holy Day…) And that makes sense to me. You can’t always be the perfect parent. And sometimes you need to put your screaming child in a safe place and walk away. But you can be present when you’re with them. Drop7, email, SongPop and Facebook can wait. Your children and mine should not.
Instead of just saying children should honor their mother and father, let’s add Commandment 5 ½: honor your children. Think of it as a lasting Chanukah present.
And don’t worry—I’ve never texted while driving or when my child is in the pool or bathtub. (Though I keep it on the bathroom counter because I always worry that something might happen, and I’ll need to call 911—I’m Jewish, I worry, it’s part of the deal).