
The Screen-Time Paradox
- Dr Cat

- Nov 5
- 2 min read
On sneaking scrolls, modelling messy, and the screens we can't escape.
This week, a photo landed in my messages that honestly belongs in the parenting archives under "Modern Dilemmas: Exhibit A."
There he was: her partner, crouched behind the kitchen bench like a spy in his own home. Phone in hand. Back pressed to the cabinetry. Hiding.
The reason? "Hiding our phone usage from [son's name]," the caption read.
I laughed out loud. Not because it was absurd (which it was), but because it was familiar. In the very same photo, their toddler, sweet and chubby-cheeked, still in his dinner bib, was strapped into a high chair, quietly eating, while facing the television.
And there it was - the paradox.
The grown-ups hide in shame, the child glows in screen-lit silence, and the household does its absolute best to model "healthy tech boundaries" while quietly abandoning every one of them for the sake of dinner and a few stolen scrolls.
That photo said more about modern parenting than any research paper I've read.
We know what we're supposed to do; no devices at the table, be present, model regulation, respond with warmth. We are actually parenting inside the very storm we're trying to protect our kids from. Our phones hold our calendars, connection, crumbling attention spans, and sometimes, just sometimes, our sanity.
So we contort, sneak, and hide behind furniture, all in service of a message we hope they absorb: "Screens aren't everything."
But here's the twist: when we hide, we don't teach boundaries - we teach shame. And when they watch us pretend not to use devices while we're actually using them, they don't learn regulation; they learn secrecy.
TRY THIS
If you've found yourself hiding behind the kitchen bench (literally or metaphorically), here are a few things that might help:
Name what's happening. Say it out loud: "I'm checking my phone because I need to reply to work. I'll be done in two minutes." Transparency beats secrecy every time.
Model honest contradiction. Let them see you struggle. "I know I said no screens at dinner, but I really need to check this. I'm working on it too." Kids don't need perfection. They need honesty.
Separate the tool from the shame. Screens aren't inherently bad. It's how, when, and why we use them that matters. Talk about that instead of hiding the device.
Set boundaries you can actually keep. If "no phones at dinner" isn't realistic right now, adjust it. Maybe it's "phones face down" or "no scrolling, just quick checks." Real rules beat fake ones.
The truth is, the most powerful thing we can model isn't perfect behaviour; it’s an honest contradiction. Show them that we're still figuring it out too, that tech is tempting, that sometimes we get it wrong, and that what matters more than a spotless dinner table is being able to name what's happening when it's not.
Our goal wasn't to raise kids who never touch screens. We aim to raise kids who don't need to hide behind benches to use one.



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