Once upon a time, my kids frequently hosted friends for sleepovers, and I loved it. There’s something delightful about a house bustling with children, indulging them with homemade cookies and pizza. More importantly, it gave me peace of mind knowing where my kids were and that they were safe. However, that cozy atmosphere vanished the moment they got their hands on cell phones.
At first, I wasn’t overly concerned. I assumed it was just a phase, and soon enough, they’d again flock to my kitchen for snacks and animated conversations. But that never happened. As the sun set, instead of the familiar sounds of laughter and excitement, silence filled the house, all thanks to those distracting smart devices.
In a bid to be the “cool mom,” I allowed them to stay up late, thinking they’d eventually tire of their screens and reconnect with one another. However, when I awoke for a midnight bathroom break, I noticed the glow emanating from my daughter’s room. Quietly tiptoeing down the hall, I expected to find a scene of delightful chaos—girls sprawled out, snacks all around. Instead, I stumbled upon three dazed tweens transfixed by their screens. I confiscated their phones for the night, assuring them they could have them back in the morning.
The next day, guilt-ridden, I confessed to the parents of my daughter’s friends about my late-night phone ban. Surprisingly, they didn’t seem overly concerned. I assured them I’d enforce a phone curfew moving forward, and felt a wave of relief wash over me.
However, my daughter was mortified. Apparently, I was the only mom in existence who dared to take such drastic measures. Eventually, she forgave me, and when another friend came over, I informed her mother of my new policy regarding phone usage during sleepovers. She agreed and revealed that she had similar rules for her own children. My intention wasn’t to exert control; I genuinely believed that the girls lacked self-discipline and weren’t interacting meaningfully.
At 9 p.m., I took the phones once more. I slept soundly knowing they were chatting and enjoying the cookies I had baked instead of scrolling through social media. Let’s face it; not much good happens after midnight.
Unfortunately, word spread at school that I was the strict “Dragon Lady” of sleepovers. As a result, fewer kids wanted to spend the night, and I heard rumors that my cookies were subpar—which I know is just an exaggeration. I understand the need for drama among kids, so I didn’t take it personally.
What I won’t accept is allowing teens to stay up all night glued to their phones. At 13, they simply lack the maturity to set boundaries. While some parents may disagree with my approach, I’m confident in my decisions because I’m the authority in my home.
I don’t plan to enforce this rule indefinitely; in a few years, I’ll likely be more lenient with 16-year-olds. For now, though, I trust my instincts, even if it seems overly protective to them. I’m not too worried; I know my cookies are delicious, and I’m sure those same kids will want to return for sleepovers again soon. After all, who can resist a perfectly baked chocolate chip cookie?
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In conclusion, while my methods may not appeal to everyone, I believe in creating an environment where my children can thrive—screen-free and full of laughter.