I won’t lie. I spend too much time on my phone. I scroll when I wake up, I scroll during lunch, and yes, I scroll in the bathroom. I’ve known for a while that my screen time is out of control, but it wasn’t until I saw my kid mimicking my behavior—holding a toy like it was a phone and pretending to scroll—that I realized something had to change.
That’s when the idea hit me: what if I tried to raise a digital minimalist? Someone who grows up knowing how to use technology, but isn’t run by it. Someone who can enjoy screens without being glued to them. Someone, in short, who’s better at this than I am.
But here’s the twist: I wasn’t going to wait until I had it all figured out. I decided to try it while still being kind of addicted myself. And surprisingly, it worked better than I thought.
Here’s how I’m doing it—one imperfect day at a time.
Step 1: Admit the Problem Without Guilt-Tripping Yourself
Let’s start with honesty. I’m not here to pretend I’m some perfect parent. I’m not here to shame you either. We live in a digital world. Screens are everywhere. They’re how we work, how we talk to friends, how we relax, and sometimes how we avoid our feelings.
The first thing I did was admit that I have a complicated relationship with screens. But instead of beating myself up about it, I just acknowledged it. I told myself, okay, this is where I’m at. Now let’s do better, little by little.
And I didn’t hide it from my kid either. I started saying things like, “I’m spending too much time on my phone today. I’m going to put it away now.” It wasn’t about guilt. It was about being real. Because if we want our kids to be mindful about tech, they need to see us being mindful about tech—even when we mess up.
Step 2: Teach Them What Digital Minimalism Means (In Kid Language)
I didn’t use big words or quote studies. I just said something like this:
“Some people are always on their screens, and it makes them tired and cranky. Other people only use screens when they need to or when they really want to watch something special. They have more fun doing other things too. That’s called being a digital minimalist.”
That’s it. That’s the lesson.
I didn’t make it complicated. Kids get the concept faster than adults do. They already know the difference between feeling good and feeling fried. The key is giving them the language for it and pointing it out when it happens.
Step 3: Make Boredom Normal Again
This one was hard—for both of us.
The first time I tried cutting back screen time, my kid immediately got bored. And then I got annoyed. And then we both wanted to give up. But boredom isn’t bad. It’s actually a gift. It’s what comes before creativity.
I started saying, “It’s okay to be bored. That means your brain is getting ready to think of something fun.” At first, my kid rolled their eyes (okay, not literally, they’re still little, but the energy was there). But then, slowly, they started coming up with their own ideas.
Drawing. Building with blocks. Pretend play. All that good stuff came back. Not because I forced it, but because we gave space for it.
Sometimes, I got bored too. And when that happened, I tried to model what to do. I’d read a book. Fold laundry. Go outside. Not because I wanted to—honestly, I wanted to scroll—but because I knew I had to show them another way.
Step 4: Create Screen-Free Zones (and Stick to Them, Mostly)
We made a few simple rules:
- No screens at the dinner table.
- No phones in the bedroom.
- No screens during car rides under 30 minutes.
I didn’t go full no-tech. That would have been too hard. I just started with a few boundaries that felt doable. And yes, sometimes I broke my own rules. But I tried to call myself out when I did.
“I know I said no phones at the table. I’m sorry, I just had to reply to one message. Let’s put them away now.”
Again, not about guilt. Just about being honest and trying again.
Over time, those screen-free zones started to feel normal. The dinner table became a place for actual conversation (even if most of it was about poop jokes). The bedroom became a place for bedtime stories and talking about our day. The car ride became a place to sing badly together.
None of that happened overnight. But it happened.
Step 5: Give Them Control Over Their Own Tech Time
I didn’t want to be the screen-time police forever. So I started involving my kid in the decisions.
I said things like, “You can pick one show to watch today. What do you want it to be?” Or, “You can have tablet time after lunch. What game do you want to play?”
I even gave them a little timer, so they could see how much time was left. It wasn’t perfect, but it gave them a sense of ownership. And when the time was up, I tried not to argue. I just reminded them, “We agreed on this. The timer helps us remember.”
To my surprise, they started turning it off themselves sometimes. Not always. But sometimes. And that felt like a win.
Step 6: Replace Screen Time with Connection, Not Just Limits
This was a big one.
If I just said “no more screens” without offering anything else, we both got cranky. So I started thinking: what do I actually want us to do instead?
Sometimes the answer was simple: go outside. Go for a walk. Bake something. Paint. Play with LEGOs. Have a dance party. Sit and talk.
Other times, I was tired and had no energy. So the replacement was just presence. I sat with them while they played. I watched their silly pretend stories. I let them put stickers all over my face.
What mattered wasn’t being a Pinterest parent. It was just showing up.
Because screens are tempting when connection is missing. When we’re full of attention and care, the phone loses a little of its shine.
Step 7: Talk About How Screens Make Us Feel
I started checking in with my kid after screen time. I’d ask things like:
- “How did that game make you feel?”
- “Did that show make you happy or kind of tired?”
- “Do your eyes feel okay after looking at the screen?”
And I did the same with myself. I’d say out loud, “Wow, I watched too many videos. My head feels weird.” Or, “That made me laugh, but now I think I need a break.”
It wasn’t about lecturing. It was just about noticing.
Little by little, my kid started to notice too. One day they said, “I don’t want to watch another show. I want to play.” I almost cried.
Step 8: Let Screens Be Special, Not Default
I didn’t want to demonize screens. I just wanted to make them special.
We started saving shows for movie night. We made popcorn. We turned off the lights. We made it a whole thing.
Tablet time became something to look forward to, not something to expect every hour.
And guess what? My kid enjoyed it more. I did too. Because when something is rare, it feels more fun. When it’s constant, it just fades into the background.
Step 9: Be Okay With Being Imperfect
There are days when I mess up. When I let my kid watch too much. When I zone out on my phone and miss a moment. When I don’t model what I want them to do.
But I’ve learned that being a digital minimalist isn’t about being perfect. It’s about paying attention. It’s about asking yourself, Is this helping me feel better or worse? It’s about trying again when you mess up.
And when my kid sees me trying again, they learn that it’s okay to start over. That’s maybe the most powerful lesson of all.
Step 10: Remember Why It Matters
At the end of the day, I’m not doing this because screens are evil. I’m doing it because I want my kid to grow up knowing how to be present. How to think. How to feel. How to connect. How to be bored and okay. How to choose what matters.
I want them to use tech as a tool—not as a crutch. I want them to own their attention instead of having it owned by someone else.
And yeah, I want that for myself too.
So no, I’m not a perfect digital minimalist. But I’m raising one. And maybe, in the process, I’m becoming one too.
Final Thought
If you’re trying to raise a digital minimalist while still feeling glued to your own screen, you’re not a hypocrite. You’re just a human living in a digital world, doing your best. Start small. Be honest. Invite your kid into the journey. And remember, change doesn’t happen all at once—it happens in little moments, one choice at a time.
