Rewinding Parenthood in a World That Keeps Pressing Play

It’s a new year.
And it’s been a while.

But something about the turn of the calendar always brings me back here—with a renewed sense of purpose, a little extra courage, and a deep pull to write honestly about parenthood.

So welcome back to my small nook of the internet. This is where I keep hitting rewind—where we’re raising our kids with fewer screens and a whole lot more childhood.

Surviving on Screens

Raise your hand if, at some point over Christmas break, you were sick, tired, overstimulated, and barely surviving—and screens saved the day.

Cold temperatures. Icy sidewalks. Nowhere to go. New toys scattered across the floor, somehow already forgotten. Toddlers melting down because you won’t turn on Weather Watchers. Familiar?

That’s how we ended the year. I was fighting screens with about as much success as a Tamagotchi with a dying battery—futile, exhausting, and losing fast.

And then came Sunday morning.

Fueled by that classic back-to-school-is-coming motivation, I decided this was the day to rearrange the bedroom. Furniture moving, drawers emptied, chaos everywhere. And with it came a firm boundary: no TV.

The girls were invited to help. And truly—they tried. But as two- and five-year-olds tend to discover, reorganizing Mom and Dad’s bedroom is not quite as thrilling as advertised.

So they wandered.

Into the big one’s room—where two doll beds appeared, and an entire day unfolded. Dolls were tucked in, woken up, dressed, sent off to school. A full imaginary schedule, no batteries required.

Then into the bathroom—where they climbed into the tub and cracked open brand-new bath crayons. Reds, yellows, blues, greens. Scribbles and birds and names layered onto porcelain. A masterpiece that would later disappear under bubbles and warm water.

And I stood there, staring at the mess, feeling something shift.

A Messy Reminder

I’ve always believed in protecting childhood imagination for as long as possible. It’s not the popular choice— I’ve never exactly been Glinda the Good Witch—but limiting screens has been a non-negotiable for us.

Still, when you’re tired or sick or overwhelmed, screens are tempting. They’re convenient. They’re quiet. They let you get things done.

But that bathtub full of crayon scribbles was a reminder I didn’t know I needed.

The easy thing would have been to press play on Peppa and disappear into my project. The hours would have passed either way. Instead, my kids filled them with creativity, connection, and play—and yes, a mess.

And I’m so glad I let them.

So here it is: my resolution this year is to parent in a way that’s less convenient for me—and far more fun for my kids.

Why I’m Choosing Less Convenient

I truly believe convenience is killing parenthood—especially motherhood.

Think back to the stories our parents tell. Home-cooked meals that repeated weekly. Meat and potatoes. No Pinterest boards. No nightly pressure to reinvent themed dinners.

Clothes mended by hand instead of replaced with one click. Walking places together. Long car rides with nothing but static-filled radio stations and conversation—no podcasts, no tablets, no headphones sealing kids off from the moment.

Convenience didn’t run the show then. Connection did.

And connection is the heart of motherhood.

Somewhere along the way, we traded it for efficiency. For speed. For ease. But ease doesn’t build memories. It doesn’t teach creativity. It doesn’t invite kids into the real, messy, beautiful world.