My husband Brian and I recently enjoyed spending a weekend with our toddler grandson, who lives out of state, so that his parents could take a getaway. We have done this before and so enjoy making special memories with our grandson. He loves the outdoors, so one morning we took him to a favorite park. It has a large sand area, so we made sure to pack his bucket, cup, and shovel.
As soon as we entered the park, our grandson made a beeline for the sand. I found a good spot to sit on the edge and play with him, and my husband kept an eye on us from a short distance. He had a good view of the large sandbox. Our grandson had just start shoveling sand into his cup, when an older boy of maybe four our five years old came over to show us his toy horses. He especially tried to engage me I suppose because maybe I looked like the harmless grandma type.
At two and a half years old, our grandson soon tired of the sand, and we moved on to other areas of the park with playground equipment for large motor movement such as climbing and jumping. The park was busy with lots of children of various ages and adults. We finished with the merry-go-round and sliding down a steep hill on the artificial turf. That was less scary for our grandson than the slick metal slide.
Once our kids returned home from their getaway, we mentioned to them that we noticed so many of the parents at the park were glued to their cell phones. I described the little boy wanting my attention, and Brian mentioned another little boy following him for part of the time. Our grandson’s parents described how they encounter this regularly at parks and beaches where they take their son to play. Because they are not on their phones and are fully engaged with our grandson, other children approach them. They are seeking affirming, adult attention.
This experience has been on my mind for the two weeks since we returned home. I understand distraction. Even before cell phones, when our children were growing up, I could be distracted. While reading a magazine or chatting with a friend at the park or the beach, I would become distracted from paying attention to my children for minutes at a time. At home while listening to an early reader slowly sound out the words, it was easy for my mind to wander, thinking about the next task or what to make for dinner. So, with or without modern technology, distractions are a common occurrence in parenthood.
But what we saw at the park, and what I have felt at times myself, is the addictive nature of cell phones and all that’s on them: email, texting, games, social media, etc. If being glued to a cell phone causes a parent to become distracted, or worse disengaged, I would venture to guess that parent may be addicted to their phone. As one who spent at least half of her childhood in the home of an addicted parent, I find similarities to cell phone addiction.
When a person is addicted to an activity or substance, they become disengaged from the people around them. It’s hard for an intoxicated parent to engage in any substantial way with her child. The same goes for a parent who is glued to their cell phone that regularly provides feel-good dopamine hits. After a while, the addicted parent becomes numb, so when she is not drunk or on her phone, she struggles to engage. She has lost practice. Then the vicious cycle repeats: intoxication, disengagement, numbness, and so on. After a while the child learns that the parent is unreliable for engagement, and the child stops seeking it. The parent has proven untrustworthy to meet the child’s emotional needs by engaging, so they simply give up and look elsewhere. Trust slowly unravels, damaging the relationship.
I describe this disintegration of the parent-child relationship in this way because I have lived it. My mother was an alcoholic from when I was at least eight years old, when my parents split up, and possibly even earlier. I lived through the disengagement, the numbness, and the loss of trust. Thank God, much later, when I was married with children, my mother got sober. Although we found a way to navigate a workable relationship, there was no way to go back. The damage was done. The trust could be only partially restored, and that was on a surface level. I could never be vulnerable with my mother because the scars were too deep.
The years of raising children seem long while you’re in them, I know. Some days seem like they will never end. But these are the years of investment in your relationships with your children. If you don’t make the deposits now of time, engagement, focus, building trust over the long haul, you may not enjoy the blessings of good and healthy relationships with them as adults. Time is not a renewable resource. Like any day, you can’t get it back. But the days with your children are especially precious and priceless. Don’t squander them.
If you have an addiction problem of any kind, get help before it’s too late. Before it does permanent damage to your relationships, especially with your children.
I leave you with a photo of the beautiful Sonora Desert with a closeup of Saguaro cactus spines on the right margin.