Our Screen-Free Week

When I told my friends we were going a week without television, most of them had the same reaction: “Why on Earth would you do that?”

“Wow, Noah must have done something really bad,” said one dad. “It’s more like you’re punishing the adults,” said a mom. “No, no,” I explained, “It’s a way for us to spend more time paying attention to each other. We’re having fun.”

“Even after the kids go to sleep? Aren’t your bored? You can’t even go on Facebook?” they asked. “I think I’d just go to bed early,” said the dad.

For all those who want to know why it was worth it to turn off the screens, here’s an idea of how our week went. (And, in case you’re wondering, my husband, Eric, still used his computer at work and I still had to use mine for email and to work from home, which included reading a lot of articles and occasionally corresponding via Facebook.)

Day 1:

Immediately after breakfast, my four-year-old asks for the Backyardigans.

Me: “It’s screen-free week, remember? No TV. Why don’t you draw a picture?”

Noah: “Oh. Okay. How about after school?”

Me: “Not until next week.”

Noah: “How about tomorrow, then?”

Me: “It’s Monday. You can watch TV again next Monday, in seven days.”

Noah: “Aaauuugghhhh!”

Thanks to some beautiful weather, we spend the afternoon outside with friends. That evening, Eric, insists that the iPad doesn’t count if he uses it to read. I sit back and enjoy a Jennifer Cruisie/Bob Mayer novel that’s been sitting on my nightstand gathering dust for months.

Day 2:

“I want Elmo!” that morning is followed by, “Hey, look, I made a train” with his Bristle Blocks the afternoon. I think to myself, “Either he’s enjoying himself or he’s given up.”

While waiting at the doctor’s to get the cast off his arm that morning (yea!), he tries to crane his head around to watch Bubble Guppies while we wait, but I head him off with one of his favorite books—a kids’ encyclopedia.

Day 3:

Instead of asking for TV, Noah heads straight for the art table after breakfast. Score! Instead of staring at the screen he makes a card to send to his grandmother in Florida.

My friend’s husband is out of town on business, so she meets us with her two kids at the local nature center for a few hours during the rainy afternoon, then they come to our house for pizza.

Eric is out late at Kung Fu, so I read some more of my novel, which is really getting good.

Day 4:

I start to miss Facebook. Logging on quickly to respond to a message (it’s work-related!), I see out of the corner of my eye that a friend might have broken … something. On her body. What? What did she break? What else is happening that I don’t know about? Ugh.

Even though I’m not supposed to know about her broken whatever, I decide to call or text her and see how she’s doing and if she needs any help. Just as soon as the kids let me.

We go to another friend’s for a play date, which helps me make up for my lack of “socializing” online. The kids color and play inside a giant cardboard box, dance and sculpt things out of Play Dough. That night, Eric and I cook together for the Cinco de Mayo party his office is having the next day.

Day 5:

I find a few minutes to relax before it’s time to pick up Evelyn and Noah from daycare and preschool. With no Facebook to turn to, I decide to polish my silver jewelry—a task that has sat on my to-do list for months, taunting me. Ooh, I forgot how pretty this one was!

I take the kids grocery shopping and Noah helps pick out flowers to decorate the house for Shabbat.

Eric and I spend the evening in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and playing Trivial Pursuit without the Wii. Just like old times.

Day 6:

Noah tells me of his plans to watch Backyardigans, Handy Manny and Bob the Builder on Monday. I think he must really miss TV, because he can’t stand Bob the Builder. Ten minutes later he’s asking me to glue together a book he made out of construction paper. He even invented a story to go with the pictures he drew!

We all pile in the car to go for frozen yogurt, where Bob the Builder is playing on a screen I never noticed there before. The sound is off, but Noah sits entranced. Oh, well.

That night, Eric and I attempt to play Scrabble. I forgot how terrible I am at this game. I manage, rather easily, to convince him we should be doing something else. (I’ll leave out the details—this is a family blog! But it beats catching up on episodes of Eureka.)

Day 7:

Noah: “Tomorrow we can watch TV, right?”

Me: “Tomorrow.”

He sings the entire Backyardigans theme song.

I’m writing a story for The Alternative Press on Westfield’s big street fair that day. Without TV to entice him to go home with Dad when his little sister needs a nap, I decide to make Noah my junior reporter. He does pretty well.

I read some more that night and realize that I don’t really mind waiting a little longer to see Game of Thrones.

Today:

Noah asks if he can watch TV now, because it’s Monday! The two-year-old points to the TV and hops up and down. Then she grabs the remote and brings it to me. I didn’t even know Evelyn noticed the television. She certainly doesn’t watch it for more than a minute at a time.

I feel a little relieved that Screen-Free week is over, but a little empowered, as well. Now I know that we can survive and even enjoy more time together without the television, and I’ve been less stressed because I haven’t been trying to keep up with what’s on or who’s saying what on Facebook.

Speaking of Facebook … I can’t wait any longer. Gonna go log on!