Technology is one of those perplexing dilemmas--on one hand it's changed our lives and on the other I remember life before cell phones and computers. It's the reason I'm in braces from my hands to my elbows and at the same time it's the excitement in my kindergartner's face as she talks about her second computer class.

Alyssa is understanding computers for the first time. She's attempted it a few times but the hand-eye coordination wasn't developed enough to comprehend the intricacies. So she'd retreat to the IPAD. This year it is a regular part of her curriculum, but I have mixed emotions.

Part of the reason we chose to put our girls in private school is because there wasn't funding for so many things in public school: library, PE, technology; not to mention class size, but that is for another post. We were excited when Samantha had computers two days a week--this year third grade is learning to keyboard. Awesome sauce! (as Samantha says).

Coming from an assessment background, the keyboarding thing is a big deal. That will help place my daughter on the right track for the Common Core State Standards technology requirements. On the other hand, when my girls ask for computer time and their swing set becomes a decoration, I worry.

As a child, I spent every minute I could outside. And I try to do the same with my girls. Some days I make them stay outside until I say they can come in. I want them to really play. I want them to use their imaginations and explore.

I understand the importance of technology and I also recognize the pitfalls. I, for one, am so attached to mouse and keyboard for my job that I'm going on a year with severe hand and elbow injuries. I can only write posts when I am feeling good, which isn't often lately.

Technology, for lack of a better word, has taken away my time from my family. I can't go camping. I can't play Legos or color pictures most days. And every night after I put my kids to bed I spend two hours with my arms covered in ice, and then put back on my braces to sleep.


As I listen to Alyssa's excitement about her first experience on the computer, I find myself wishing that  technology wasn't such an important aspect of our lives. I dream of ways to minimize it. And to groans and eye rolling, I keep saying, "No computer today," and wonder how many other parents have the same internal struggle.

Sometimes you find books at the thrift store that you wouldn't normally seek or that you didn't know existed on subjects you didn't know you wanted to read. Case in point--parenting books.

I have "How to Talk So Kids Will Listen," but it's a bit to philosophical for me. I haven't been able to stick with it for the five or so years I've had it so I doubt it will do me any good. But my mom handed me one that had me giggling in the first five minutes: "How to Behave so Your Children Will, Too!" (Hey, the kid peed in the fridge!)

I've been trying to change my own pattern of yelling at the kids and succeeded (once) for two weeks. Big feat! I can certainly do better.

Some days I'm so tired and I give the kids instructions like "Go put your pajamas on and brush your teeth." Ten minutes later they are giggling and half undressed and still haven't brushed their teeth. I don't want to get up to walk across the house to sternly tell them they should be doing X or Y. I just yell, "Hey, you aren't doing what you are told." It's a pattern and it's not pretty. I'm sure the neighbors get sick of hearing me. I don't yell anything cruel or mean or angry, it's just annoying. And if I'm annoying myself . . .

And then there is the discipline part that is challenging. We have the most behavior problems with Samantha because she pushes the limits with her little sister (as all kids do). We often resort to taking away technology, but that is starting to feel ineffective.

I thought about putting a consequence jar together so that the punishment would be that they'd have to pick a simple chore--sounds good.  But then I thought that maybe we should be reinforcing the good behavior with a reward jar instead. I already expect my kids to help with chores like cleaning the bathroom and folding laundry. Of course, I haven't implemented either.

I did notice, however, that when I was able to stop yelling for those two weeks, my kids were more gracious toward each other, they were more loving and helpful all around. So we'll see what this book has in store. If I get one simple, even minuscule, thing out of it and it works in my house then it will be worth the read.

*                     *                      *                  *                  *                  *                        *

Coincidentally, I ran across this article just after writing this post . . . "Noticing the good in our kids"
              

"Who cares!"

"Who cares!"

Those two little words can mean so much. 

My eight year old has grown increasingly irritated with her 5-year-old sister. Who knows if it's peers or age or both. I'm no psychologist.

But I'm thinking Samantha learned a good lesson tonight. 

Last weekend I bought Alyssa a desk at a garage sale. She was so excited--a desk just like sissy's. I painted it and put it back in her room. Today I added the handles and lined the drawers. Alyssa was so excited. 

So after ballet, Alyssa ran to her room, waiting to show Sissy her new, finished desk. Samantha rolled her eyes and mumbled audibly, "Who cares!" Samantha did follow and take a peak but then proceeded to her room with a sigh.

Tonight before bed, I asked Al if he had seen Alyssa's finished desk yet. So we followed Alyssa to her room and Al asked if Samantha wanted to see it. There may have been eye rolling or a "who cares" somewhere between the kitchen and her bedroom. Alyssa's response was "It's okay, Dad. Sissy doesn't love me." It was so very nonchalant. 

Samantha just stood in the doorway, stunned. I looked at her as I was clearing off Alyssa's bed and said, "It hurts, huh?

"When you roll your eyes or say 'Who cares!' it doesn't go unnoticed."

Samantha put herself to bed. 

After I kissed Alyssa I went into Samantha's room to find her buried under the covers, crying and hurt. Of course she loves her sister.

It won't stop the eye rolling or the sighing, but maybe Samantha will attempt to hold her tongue.