My smartphone addiction needed to end, or at least be managed, because providing my children with a screen-free childhood is high on my priority list. Now I’m never one to turn down a weekly family movie night and the occasional educational show here and there, but my default is signing pledges to resist smartphones and researching the best landline telephone options. 

I might attribute this to several impeccably researched books I have read on the negative impact screens, specifically smartphones, can have on a play-based childhood. It could have been sitting in one too many waiting rooms in which every single person was engrossed in his or her smartphone. 

But, in all honesty, I think the main reason that I am passionate about protecting my children from a screen-based childhood is because I know, firsthand, what an addiction to technology feels like. And I want my children to be free.

Progress has been made

Early motherhood is when I began to use my smartphone as a crutch. I went from working full-time while getting my master’s degree to being a stay-at-home mom in a brand-new town. Being a mom was my ultimate dream, but the isolation was draining. My twins were adorable, but they were not what I would call intellectually stimulating company. 

My life had gone from zipping from class to clinicals to work, to being alone in a house with two babies.  Looking back, I simply didn’t know how to structure our day properly. I would read what felt like an inordinate amount of baby board books to look at the clock and realize only thirty minutes had passed. I was craving adult conversation but didn’t have people to connect with during our long days. 

Community is hard to build in the throes of newborn life, so I found connection through my phone. I would FaceTime my parents, listen to podcasts on walks, scroll social media during nap time, and take photos of my babies. 

And those uses of the phone – connecting with loved ones, learning from experts, documenting memories – can be good. But I became reliant. I also became agitated, jealous, and incredibly lonely. The beautifully filtered photographs of everyone else’s exciting life of travels, work promotions, and dinner with friends made my quiet, hidden, messy life seem all the more undesirable. 

God, in His mercy, sent me a way out. During confession, a priest asked if I would be willing to take a break from social media for one month to see if it might help me feel better. I agreed and haven’t returned in years. 

Social media is not bad for everyone. But it can be a near occasion of sin for many people, as it certainly was for me. I needed to cut it out of my life completely to embrace more fully the beautifully quiet, hidden, messy life right in front of me. 

Changing habits, growing in virtue 

Getting rid of all social media apps was freeing. But ironically, it didn’t make me pick up my phone any less. I would check email, look on Zillow, and flip through old pictures. My phone had unfortunately become an appendage to me. Checking it was a compulsory tic. And I knew it needed to stop. But how? 

I didn’t want to switch my smartphone for a “dumbphone,” because I rely heavily on GPS and love having a decent camera on the go. But to change my ways, I knew I needed to grow in discipline and make my phone less appealing. My desire was for my phone to become a tool, not a part of my life. 

Inspired by a few books, I decided to work on changing my habits and changing my phone simultaneously. Here are some habits that worked for me, and some that I am still working on! 

A few habits for decreasing phone use:

1. Leave the phone out of your bedroom. Don’t let your phone be the last thing you see before bed and the first thing you see when you wake up.

2. Set small yet potent goals for yourself. My personal favorite goals are to avoid looking at my phone while waiting in a checkout line or in a waiting room.

3. Have a phone spot. Just as a landline would live on your wall, have a spot where your phone lives during certain times of the day. I still catch myself some days walking around with my phone in my pocket or, even worse, in my hand! Once I realize it, the phone goes right back in its spot, ideally only to be touched if I get a call or message. 

4. Use your computer (or a book!) when possible. Part of the draw of the smartphone is quick handheld research. In a pinch, this can be fine, but when at home, I find it better to explain to my children that I need to research something and use my laptop. Or even better, if we see an insect that needs identifying, we go to our bookshelf to see if we can find it in our nature guides. Sometimes we don’t get the answer we are looking for. But often that isn’t the point. Sometimes, having a moment to simply be curious together is more meaningful. 

5. Wear a watch. The number of times I make an excuse to pull out my phone to check the time is laughable. Not when I wear a watch! 

A few ways to make a smartphone less appealing:

1. Grayscale. This is such a simple and incredibly effective way to make a phone less appealing. The phone is boring and drab. Real life is colorful, vibrant, and exciting! 

2.  Delete all unnecessary apps. For me, this means no social media or shopping apps. Find your top offenders and delete or put them in a separate folder. 

3. De-personify your phone. Your phone is not a part of your life; it is a tool. I find it helpful to make the home and lock screen blank. I used to have a picture of my children or a holy image, but that was making it too personal. Make it as far from endearing to you as possible. 

4. Set screen-time limits. Nothing like a reminder that you’ve been sitting on your phone for fifteen minutes to make you put the phone down. If you have trouble abiding by the limit (I’ve been there), ask your spouse or a friend to make the passcode and not share it with you.5.Try a Brick. This simple gadget has been the single most helpful thing in curbing my smartphone addiction. It allows you to make your smartphone into, essentially, a dumbphone. You get to choose which apps and tools you want to access, and when you “brick” your phone, you lose access to the ones you don’t want.

For me, this looks like having access to the tools my phone has that can serve my family and me. Most days, my phone has text messaging, GPS, a camera, phone calls, podcasts, and our music player. Internet browsing, photos, email, and anything else I believe might distract me are unavailable. 

On a day when I really want to be out of pocket, my phone only allows phone calls and a camera. On a day when I’ll be out and about, I might add back in my email (for timed entry passes to museums, for example) or the Internet browser if I think I’ll need it.

Use your phone the way you want others around you to use it

I asked Clare Morell, author of The Tech Exit, if she had any advice she might give to adults hoping to curb their smartphone usage. She encouraged thinking about how you might want your children or a friend to use a phone and make those small goals for yourself. Some helpful questions might be: Am I using my phone the way I would want my child to use it when they have a phone? Am I using my phone as a tool or as an escape? 

Ultimately, I want my phone to be a tool. A tool I can use for good, such as calling my parents, getting us to the museum downtown, or sending out a meal train reminder via text – but nothing more. 

I don’t want my phone to distract me from the beautiful life God is calling me to. I want my eyes to be ready to smile at my children when they walk into the room or to admire their LEGO creation up close. I want my attention to be focused on their long-winded narrative about what happened at the playground. I want my hands to be free to wrap them in a hug or turn the pages of a good book. 

And I want my children to remember their mother living a life of authentic joy and freedom, with a smartphone nowhere to be seen.