Parenting in the Age of Screens

Some days, I feel like I’m parenting in the middle of a crowded train station—doors slamming, voices bouncing off walls, responsibilities shouting for attention. And somewhere in that chaos, there’s my 8-year-old asking, with full dramatic flair, if she really has to do her studies or chores.

Living in a joint family, peace is a luxury and personal space is fiction. But parenting doesn’t pause just because life gets loud. It still demands presence. It demands softness. And somehow, it keeps demanding patience—even when the pressure cooker is both literally whistling and metaphorically hissing.

The Early Years: When Parenting Felt Simpler

When my daughter was a baby and toddler, parenting felt smoother. She was naturally curious—showing interest in books as early as 9 months. She couldn’t read yet, of course, but she’d recognize characters, mimic actions, and respond to stories. By the age of 2, she was reading picture books, reciting Sanskrit shlokas, and solving 12–16 piece puzzles in 2 minutes.

She helped tidy up, fold clothes, and arrange books—yes, even as a tiny human. And one big factor, I believe, was that I kept her away from screens. There was no mobile or TV time then. But when screen time crept in, the balance started to shift.

The Shift: Joint Family & Juggling Everything

Things changed when we moved into a joint family setup. Suddenly, I had more roles: mother, working woman, family organizer, household manager, and emotional anchor for everyone.

I started yelling more—about everything. “Eat your food.” “Do your homework.” “Put your toys away.” The yelling became routine… and then it backfired.

One day, she looked at me and said, “You always scold me.”

That hit hard. She began to lie about small things, hide mistakes, and hold back. That’s when I knew—this wasn’t the kind of relationship I wanted with her.

Reconnecting: One Small Shift at a Time

So I made changes—first, by giving her undivided, no-phones, no-rush attention every day. Slowly, she started sharing her school stories again—both funny and sad.

I also changed our mornings. Instead of waking up 50 minutes before school, I added 15 extra minutes. This gave me time to pamper her while waking her up, let her eat breakfast in peace, and send her off with a smile (and a hug).

Some mornings, when I hadn’t slept well, I played soothing spiritual music to keep my own mind calm.

Managing Chores & Screen Time

At one point, TV took over. She expected to come home, hand over her bag, and disappear into the screen. So, I simply started hiding the remote. “Out of sight, out of mind” worked wonders. Without the option, she began talking more, sharing more, even eating without reminders.

Later, I allowed a small, fixed TV slot. Having that boundary helped her refocus.

And when she started outsourcing homework or chores to other family members, I set new rules: homework would be either done by her or with me. Slowly, she took ownership.

Building Habits Through Appreciation & Consequences

Even at 8, she didn’t consistently put her things back—coloring books, skates, clothes. Repeating instructions didn’t help. Scolding didn’t help. So, I shifted again:

I praised the little wins.

“I love it when you finish breakfast and give me a hug before school. It makes my whole day.”

She started doing just that—without reminders.

For bigger things? I took action. One day, I hid her skates. After three skate-less days, the message landed. Now she puts things back 80% of the time—20% still needs a nudge, but that’s progress.

Lessons From the Experience

She often asks, “Why can you be on a laptop all the time but I can’t watch TV?” Fair question. That’s when I have to pause and explain the difference between screen time for work and passive entertainment.

We talk—often—about healthy eating, reading, focus, and how constant screens affect our brains. I don’t always have perfect answers, but I try to have honest conversations.

One thing I know for sure: children respond more when we stay calm, when we guide instead of command, and when we appreciate rather than only expect.

They’re not little adults—they’re tender shoots still learning how to grow. They don’t need perfection. They just need presence.

I’d love to hear from you—what are your parenting wins, struggles, or lessons learned in the middle of your own circus? Drop your experiences in the comments or share how you navigate screen time, tantrums, or those early morning rushes.

Let’s build a space where real parenting stories are heard, celebrated, and supported.