Do you remember summers when you were a kid? How you’d leave the house in the morning and explore the entire neighborhood on your bike with your friend and come home when the streetlights came on?
I know I do.
During the summer my brother and I would burst out of the house at 9am with a bag of sandwiches for lunch and a “see ya later” to our parents. They never worried about us, knowing that we would come back – alive and well – when we had run out of food.
I love those memories! I think of those as some of the best times of my life.
Parenting is so much different now than when we were kids. In just 30 years smart phones and tablets have taken over. They suck my kids into a void where they remain, unreachable, until my voice reaches a pitch usually heard only by dogs.
And when they aren’t with a screen we are zooming off in the car to attend a carefully curated schedule of athletic practices, music lessons, and language classes.
These days I feel like I’m going to be accused of neglect at any moment because I let my children play unsupervised in the front yard while refusing to give them a smart phone complete with GPS tracking capabilities.
My children think differently. They think they need this stuff or their lives are going to fall apart.
They need to know French.
They have to be in 8 different sports or they won’t have any kind of shot at getting a scholarship.
They must have a smart phone and be on Snap Chat or their social lives will disintegrate into nothingness.
They are entitled to all of it! It is their due in life. It is what they must have. And I’m supposed to give it to them.
The worst part is that I feel helpless to stop it. All that technology and sport and entitlement is like a tsunami coming right for me to sweep me away.
But am I really as helpless as I feel?