When Screen Time Becomes More Than a Distraction

Before I had children, I had all the best intentions - don’t we all? I used to say, “My kids won’t be glued to screens. Our parents managed without iPads and YouTube, so I can too.” I was certain that screen time would be limited, structured, and carefully monitored.

When my daughter came along, that plan worked perfectly. We had a lovely balance — a bit of TV here and there, but plenty of books, crafts, and outdoor time. It felt easy to keep control of it all, and I was quietly proud that I’d stuck to my principles.

Then my son arrived.

He was born prematurely and struggled terribly with colic. Those early months were tough - the kind of tough that leaves you exhausted and second guessing everything. Deep down, I knew something more was going on, but it wasn’t until he was twelve months old that we received his diagnosis: quadriplegic cerebral palsy.

Everything changed after that.

As a baby, the lights, sounds, and colours from the TV or iPad seemed to soothe him in a way nothing else could. The gentle hum of cartoons, the music, the movement, it calmed him when his body and mind were in turmoil. So yes, I used screens more than I ever imagined I would. And for a long time, I questioned whether that made me a bad parent.

Now that he’s older, he absolutely loves gaming - and he’s brilliant at it! His Xbox is his playground. While other kids kick a ball about or race around the park, this is his way of connecting, playing, and being part of something fun.

So I ask myself — is it really such a bad thing?

Maybe we need to rethink what “screen time” means. For some children, it’s not just entertainment, it’s inclusion. It’s independence. It’s joy.

As parents, especially of children with disabilities, we learn to adapt. The rules we once set for ourselves sometimes bend - not because we’ve “given in,” but because we’ve learned what truly works for our children.

So yes, my son might spend more time gaming than I once thought he would. But when I see his face light up, his fingers moving, his voice excited as he talks to his friends online - I know that, in his own way, he’s playing just like any other child. And that, to me, is exactly as it should be.