The Sins of the Tired Parent

As a former college professor and as a child of computer programmers, I have noticed for a long time the ability of people to be so absorbed in their computers or phones or various forms of technology that they literally do not hear someone who is speaking directly to them - even when the interlocutor is in their face. Recently, I have noticed adults either around my son or around their own children on the playground being so absorbed in their iPhones that their child has to repeat what they are saying or ask several times for what they need before the adult realizes the child is talking to them. Even more recently, I have noticed that I have been the guilty adult so absorbed in my iPhone that my son had to repeat what he was saying several times before I realized he was asking me for something.

I try to stay conscious of my use of my computer and phone around my son. Mainly, I don't want him playing with my computer or my phone. Secondly,  I don't want to be one of those parents who is always absorbed in technology rather than the living breathing person in front of me that I wanted and created. I don't want my child to be one of those kids who's so absorbed in his iPad or video game - thanks to the example I set for him - that he's oblivious to the world around him. I don't want him to value his gadgets more than his friends or family.

Also, I try to save my computer and phone for when I really need them, i.e. when I need him to be fascinated by the Dr. Seuss's ABCs app because we're at a doctor's appointment or in a restaurant or when I need him to watch a movie on my computer because my husband has worked twenty-seven sixteen-hour days in a row and I just need ten minutes when I am not being asked for food, or toys, or the park or to take my son to pee or something else.

Except that currently my husband really has worked twenty-seven sixteen hour days in a row and I am needing an instant queue Netflix movie download around 6pm every night (aka the Witching Hour in our house. Sometimes it applies to the child. Sometimes the adults.) just so I can get dinner made with some degree of peace of mind. I have fallen into the trap of the tired parent.

My husband and I don't own a television, because we don't like it. We do watch a few select shows that we download or Netflix (Mad Men, The Wire, and alas, I'm a sucker for re-watching the West Wing), but generally we find it a depression inducing time waster. Having geeked out on baby brain research, I am not a fan of television for small children. There's no movie watching or Seseme Street viewing before 6pm (Witching Hour). I don't let him watch more than an hour because it turns him into a slug. I don't like television as an everyday thing; I like it as a sometimes thing - when we're having a snow day or when we're sick.

Also, I agree with the studies that show over time - especially in children under three - it lessens creativity as well as the ability to entertain one's self or use one's imagination and these are all skills I want my son to have. I'm not against television all together. I do think there are some quality shows, and as he gets older, I look forward to discussing with him what makes a quality show or movie.

But now -again because my husband has worked twenty-seven sixteen hour days in a row - I am that tired parent. I am that tired parent in survival mode trying to get through the day and remember my own name at the same time. Not to mention we just moved into a new house in a new city and I am also researching the pre-schools in the area, trying to find periodic childcare and playgroups as well as unpack enough boxes so I can wear something different than the select few items that have been in my suitcase the last 8 weeks. I'd also like to find the blender so I can make my son and I a smoothie.

So, alas, I'm that tired parent who reaches for her computer at 6pm so he can watch a movie, and so I can get dinner on the table, and maybe I can take a turn at online Scrabble.

I should state I'm still neurotic about what my son watches. Old Sesame Street episodes are okay in small doses, but the newer Sesame Street episodes are heinous and I want no part of them. We have a children's stage production of Shakespeare's A Comedy of Errors that we love and have watched at least a hundred times. Finding Nemo, Toy Story, Wall-E are also favorites (but they were before my son was born). Lately, we've been watching a lot of Pingu the Penguin and Kipper. (My husband finds Kipper annoying. I like Kipper because he's quiet.) These have been our rotation the last week or so when I - not my son - hit the 6 o'clock witching hour.

Except the other night, because my son and I had eaten our way through a Trader Joe shopping trip, we weren't hungry for dinner. We only snacked. I still was tired enough I put Pingu on for my son. I wanted that few minute break - when nobody asked anything of me and when I could just flip through a West Elm catalog on the hunt for bookshelves or make an online Scrabble play on my iPhone.

But my son told me to put my book away. He crawled into my lap at the table where he was watching Pingu. I looked at Scrabble.
        "Mommy," he said, "Put the phone away." He didn't want food. He didn't have to pee. He didn't want a particular toy. He just wanted me to watch a movie with him and hold him.

Needless to say, while I do have some degree of compassion for myself as my husband is working non-stop, I felt like an ass.

Here I was worried my son could become one of those boys who's so obsessed with video games, he fails to notice there's a world to explore, I was that parent absorbed in her iPhone, failing to notice my son just wanted to be held.

And I have to say, I felt relieved my son - at 2 years old - feels comfortable asking in a nice tone of voice no less for what he needs and for telling me to put away my phone and pay attention to him.

The next night we approached the Witching Hour differently. Sure enough, at ten minutes to 6, my son started asking for a movie (How do toddlers to that? They can't tell time, but they're like clockwork.). I said, "No. I don't want to watch movies every day." He didn't start to throw a tantrum (though he easily could have) but he did his I-want-a-movie dance. Instead, I distracted him. I had him pull up a chair to the kitchen counter and help me make dinner. We were just having pesto (we keep it stupidly simple when it's just the two of us). The entire thing could be made in the food processor, so I had him put all the ingredients into the food processor and push the pulse button after each ingredient. By the time, the water for the pasta was boiling, he had found a toy to play with.

Oddly, I finished the day much less tired than I have been.