Taming the technology monster

Even Sesame Street’s Elmo has a computer and reads email. On the show, he routinely accesses email from friends. I haven’t seen him use a cell phone yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me to see the furry red monster clutch one at his ear.

For most modern parents, technology constantly swirls around us. Even in the fresh air of South Shore Park or other natural settings, parents are on cell phones or behind cameras. It’s convenient and I have certainly used the chance when my daughter is occupied on the swing to snap some photos, make a quick phone call, or tap out a text message. In fact, I have probably done all three in rapid succession on my iPhone.

My phone, with features like email capability and internet access, plus our laptop, helped me keep in touch with friends, family, and former coworkers when our daughter was a newborn. While I nursed in the early morning, I read jsonline.com’s NewsWatch on my phone. I was accustomed to knowing the day’s headlines and didn’t want to miss out on reading the freshest news. It helped me feel more normal in conversations and minimized the feeling of being cloistered in the winter with an infant.

Before the baby arrived, my commute via bus to a downtown office provided several small conversations before 8:30am. My job involved lots of phone calls, meetings, and email interaction. Home with a newborn, I was thrown into a more solitary routine but technology allowed some conversational substitutes. One particularly lonely period was around 5am when it sometimes felt like only radio announcers were awake. (My husband was home but catching sleep before going to work.) I would wake to nurse the baby and she’d fall back to sleep, but I couldn’t follow her example. I would send email at this early hour, and people would reply when their days got humming. Email eliminated the need for mutual availability but kept us in touch. It also helped family and friends on the East Coast quickly see pictures of our growing baby.

Now that our daughter is 18 months old, my attitude toward technology is more ambivalent. I have become accustomed to the new daily rhythm as a full-time mom and part-time writer. I am more comfortable saying “no” when friends ask, “Did you see my email?” or “Did you see my Facebook update?” The news headlines seem less important to me so I don’t check every day. Instead, I skim newspapers at the gym, snatch glances online, or hear news summaries on public radio. Occasionally everyone else seems to know something like the announcement of a Supreme Court justice’s impending retirement but my chagrin is minimal.

Despite reduced interest, I still feel the allure of technology. It still nags for my attention. For example, it’s so tempting to check email while our daughter has a snack. I try not to eat the snack myself, to avoid the calories, and yet sitting at the table with her gets dull. She cannot converse much and I have already taught her the names of all objects within pointing range like table, chair, highchair, wall. My phone is usually nearby and its email feature makes messages tantalizingly easy to access.

Incessant camera use-for photos and video-is also tempting. People ask for photos and we want to send and show the very best.

I never got into reading blogs continually or playing games like Second Life, but I have heard about parents who regret being drawn into them. Their testimonials describe obsessive online habits that caused them to miss sleep and put less energy into their families. In extreme cases, they turned to drugs to stay awake to spend more time online and some sought treatment for internet addiction. The online world offered them an alternate identity separate from their children, a world that felt more comfortable and less overwhelming.

Parents and other caretakers need to be concerned about the amount of time spent staring at television monitors, laptop screens, cell phone interfaces, camera viewfinders, and whatever cool device will come next; and we need to be sure we are spending time in the moment. Watching a child grow reinforces that time’s river of days never stops flowing around us. The glow from a kid’s smile surely trumps the glow of a phone.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com. Maher will resume her column in August after a summer break.

Copyright 2010 by Bay View Compass. All rights reserved.
This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.