Why We Live with These 7 Strict Screen Time Rules
We are the role models for our children
A week ago, we caught our youngest son sitting on the toilet watching Minecraft videos.
I only found out by accident the next day, while he was at school, which gave me enough time to prepare our response.
My first reaction was fury.
I saw him leave the toilet with the phone in his hands and upon inquiry; he said he’d been listening to music. This turned out to be a lie. He knew what he was doing and why he did not admit it.
Our screen time rules:
We have the following strict rules in our house for the use of screens (I’ll explain why in a minute):
1. All devices (phones, tables, laptops) need to be kept in one room, away from the main living area. This is also where they are charged.
2. No devices in the bedrooms.
3. Use of devices with explicit permission only.
4. Screen time for the kids (on a tablet, phone, or computer) is limited to once per weekend. Our nine-year-old has twenty minutes per weekend. Our thirteen-year-old has one hour.
5. We do not watch TV.
6. There can be additional screen time when we watch a movie or documentary together, usually only on the weekend or in the holidays.
7. There are exceptions for homework.
I am glad our son was not there when I realized he breached the rules. It is never a good idea to parent from a space of fury. The logical brain shuts down and my reaction would have worsened the situation.
Instead, I texted my husband about my discovery.
A few minutes later, a realization hit.
I had to look at myself.
How often did I sneak into the toilet with the phone in my hands to steal some unsupervised screen time?
I blushed.
The same was true for my husband.
We had set up the rules without following through ourselves.
No wonder this backfired.
I sent my husband another text. We had to work on ourselves. This would not be easy. We would have to consciously eliminate patterns that ‘had slipped into’ our lives. Devices seemed to have taken over.
I knew exactly when I turned to them:
- whenever I wanted to escape from reality or myself.
- when I felt the need to numb my own feelings or what my body was trying to communicate, often through pain.
But would this escape to an alternate-device-driven reality change any of the underlying issues? Of course not.
I realized I had to stop and ask myself what I really needed; maybe a hug, exercise, laughter, or simply a nap? I had to stop giving my power away and focus back on myself and the power within.
Back to our son. My husband spoke to him in the evening and he whole-heartedly admitted everything. We asked him how he pictured himself in ten years if he continued those habits. Our son imagined himself as the most epic Minecraft player in the world.
We asked him about the parts of “slipping away into a different reality” and “not telling the truth”, both relating to bending reality to your own will without acknowledging what is really going on. He became quiet and thoughtful. I suppose the debate is not yet over, and that the outcome will depend on how we model what we preach. But we felt satisfied with how we had handled the situation.
Why did we establish these rules?
To explain our rules, I’d like to go back to when our oldest son was ten years old. This was when our rules were not yet so set and we allowed unlimited screen time for long trips.
During the spring vacation break, we planned to take a two-week camping trip from Brisbane to Cairns which involved plenty of driving. We were confident as we had done trips like this before. Driving had never been an issue because we used to listen to audio books.
This time, I had not managed to get any audio books from the library, so we thought we’d rely on the kids playing cards, telling stories, and entertaining themselves. Each of our kids owns a small portable device which we originally purchased for the long-haul flights back to Germany. The kids had their devices with them and especially our oldest son was extremely keen to play.
Since screens were allowed on trips, the daily drive quickly turned from ‘playing old-fashioned car games’ to gaming for two, three, or four hours every day.
The whole trip turned into a challenge.
For example, we arrived at a rainforest walk close to the Daintree Rainforest in Northern Queensland. The walk was supposed to last one hour. We pulled up with our camper van and asked everyone to get ready for the hike. Our oldest son was in the middle of a game. He got very angry with us for interrupting him. We eventually made him come along, but he yelled at us for the entire duration of the walk, “Why do I even have to do this silly walk? Why are you making me do this? It is all your fault! This is stupid!” It spoilt the experience for the whole family.
This was not the only occasion. Overall, our son was in an extremely grumpy state.
I blamed his behavior on pre-puberty, failing to see the effect of the augmented use of his device on him.
We had a few enjoyable moments on this trip, but not many. It was a pity. We had wanted to connect as a family and here we were, separated and split.
After the trip, we announced a six-week ban on devices since we felt the kids had so much time on their screens during the vacation.
Six weeks later, our son was back to his normal, happy, content, open, enjoyable self. I was astounded. It took me a while to understand, but eventually it clicked. The detrimental effect on him was due to screen time. It triggered a complete change in behavior, mood and mind-set after only two weeks of increased screen time. I was shocked.
We talked to our son about the impact on him and renegotiated our screen time rules at home with everyone signing them off. We scrapped the possibility of screen time when friends were over.
Still, this was not the end of the debate.
On weekends, the kids played “Clash of Clans”, a game that promotes daily connection. If you do not check in on a regular basis, you miss out on additional bonus points or your carefully built-up structures might be destroyed. Of course, these games are designed this way to get the players hooked into investing more time, potentially money, and to be a draw-card for selling ads.
The kids wanted to advance their game play and this required them to open a chest during the week and not on weekends only. They begged me. I didn’t want them to miss out so we agreed each kid would be allowed two quick glimpses during the week so they could click on their chest. Thirty seconds maximum.
Guess what happened?
First, the glimpses were not quick. Our younger son found it especially difficult to pull himself out of the game. I had to supervise him and nag about turning off the tablet.
Second, as early as breakfast time, they started discussing how to maximize what they could get out of the game. Before, we had talked about sports, birthday parties, weekend plans, or friends. Now, it was only chest content and speculation of what might be in there. The game fully held their attention.
It was like an addiction.
After observing this for a few weeks, we sat down to talk. I asked the kids about their experiences. They failed to perceive how their behavior had changed, but strongly argued to keep their extra time. I, on the other hand, was not happy. The debate escalated. Eventually, I made an unpopular parenting decision. The extra time during the week had to stop. I explained to the kids how their mind space was dominated by their games and devices. We agreed to review the decision after a few weeks.
Interestingly, a few weeks after cutting out the extra screen time, the kids managed to see how the game had held them captive.
Confirmation through the book ‘Teen-Brain’
We readjusted our rules around screens, all based on gut feelings and personal experiences, until I came across the book ‘Teen-Brain’ by David Gillespie (published 2019 by Pan Macmillan Australia). Gillespie focuses on the link between teenage depression/mental health issues/addiction and screen time.
The following is an extract from the ‘Letter from the publisher’ as prologue to ‘Teen-Brain’ (source: https://davidgillespie.org):
“Yes, kids are addicted to screens. Yes, the content and the use of that content is damaging. And yes, these factors are making kids mentally ill. But that’s not the worst of it. The devastating news, and what every parent needs to know, is this: screens are highly addictive; if human beings engage in addictive behaviours between the ages of 12 to 22, when the human brain is uniquely fragile, the addictive pathways are laid down for life.”
These are Gillespie’s main findings after diving into research:
“1. The biology of puberty makes the teen brain uniquely fragile. It makes teens susceptible to addictions that can last for life and usher in mental illness.
2. Parenting is much more permissive and parents need to harden up to save their kids.
3. Unfettered access to screens is driving an epidemic of addiction, depression and anxiety, the likes of which we have never witnessed before.”
I was happy and shocked at the same time to have my gut feelings confirmed in this way. The book gave me the stamina to keep going, even though this means holding the boundaries and making unpopular decisions. The discussions on ‘screen time’ in our house are not eliminated, but here are our lessons learnt:
1. Set rules that apply to everyone in the house. Yes, including parents.
2. There are consequences if the rules are not followed. Make sure everyone is aware of these.
3. Communicate clearly. This includes visitors.
4. Stay alert. Ask what is really needed when someone wants to escape from reality into screens.
5. Play with your children: Board games, card games, outside games….
6. Engage with your children and foster their natural interests. Is it sewing, observing animals, or sports? Show interest in whatever spikes theirs.
7. Take the time to listen to each other and be in each other’s company.
8. Create an open atmosphere where everyone feels supported when talking about their emotions or addressing a problem.
9. Look at yourself and work on your own behavior.
We are the greatest role models for your kids. How are we shaping them to behave and be in ten-, twenty- and thirty-years’ time?