It is 2011, and Addie is just seventeen months old. She walks up to my television and tries to swipe the screen with her index finger as though it were a gigantic iPad. I watch her, amazed by what this tiny child is doing, but I also find the moment so adorable that I grab my iPhone so that I can video her. I fumble with the settings as I move the camera to video-mode, and in those few seconds she’s turned and seen me with the phone, and she wants it. Oh, how she wants it. I set the phone to flight mode and hand it over.
The excitement is beyond anything any other item I have could elicit. Addie’s dimpled fingers dexterously pinch, tap and swipe the screen, and the room fills with her babbles and squeals of delight. But for me, the delight is short-lived. The internal cross- examination has begun, and I’m drowning in carer/babysitter guilt. Why did you give her the stupid iPhone? You’re a children’s author and educator. You know the issues with screen time, you’re colluding with the enemy, and you’re not even ensuring that it’s quality screen time!
Read the full introduction here