“Really, he only needs 1-2 hours a day of TV, computer, or video games,” she noted, making sure to also include my iPhone, handheld devices, and anything else that was electronic and promoted staying seated.
I nodded in agreement, but my mind was swirling. As I racked up the amount of time the Taz could stay glued to his video games, I realized that it was sometimes more like 5 or 6 hours a good weekend day, sometimes even more. And that seems like a lot, but it really did wonders in keeping my house super clean without the Taz spreading the remnants of his room and everything he ate for lunch all over the living room floor and beyond. And the backyard has been virtually silent without him taking his nicest clothes and sitting in the dirt, scooting across the yard in what could only be described as an effort to give me more challenging laundry to do.
But obviously, 5 or 6 hours is a lot of game time for any kid. So the Taz and I talked in the car ride home and agreed we would start with limiting his game and computer time before even touching the TV time in an effort to promote more play time outside.
Of course, everything works so perfectly in theory, right?
The very first day with newly set limits, the Taz woke up early to play. And when it was time to get off, I let him know.
“I just have few more minutes till I’m done with this round, Mom. Can I finish it, and then get off?” he asked. And I agreed. Except multiply this conversation by about 10, and watch my answer vary each time – from compromise to threats to walking in the room and unplugging the dang machine and carrying it into my room.
“I was just getting off!” the Taz screamed from his room nearly 30 minutes after my first request to get off. And when I explained this to him, the conversation escalated to the borderline of me implementing the firehouse kid-giveaway rule because of some serious backtalk. And when I furthered the punishment to losing the games for an entire week, he promptly went outside where Mr. W was tending the yard and informed him that there was no point in living any longer because his video games were taken away.
Either my son is incredibly dramatic or he needs a 12-step program to get him off the tech-sauce. Or both.
At any rate, the week passed rather quickly. My son did end up surviving without video games, despite his insistence that it would be impossible. And in efforts to get the video games back quicker, he was as pleasant as pie – remembering his manners, asking to help with chores, and being the perfect child. He even took extra efforts to get off his duff and go outside, practicing his batting skills or spending the afternoon at a friend’s house. Of course, I was eating all this up. So there was no way I was going to stop it any time soon by giving back the video games early. But I had to give in when the week was up, as he had definitely held up his end of the bargain.
I think it was only 2 hours later when I had to take them away again.
Yesterday he got them back once more, and was adamant that he would not mess up this time.
“There’s no way I’m going to lose my video games, Mom,” he swore. And it was apparent he had learned his lesson. I was charging my phone at that point, getting ready to take my evening run. The Taz had already used up his video game time and was now chilling on the couch as he watched me get ready. “Are you going for a run?” he asked me. I nodded yes, that I was just waiting for my phone to get a few more battery bars so that I had some music to listen to. “How many does it have now?” he asked.
“Still only 30%, not enough yet,” I sighed as I waited.
“Oh, how long do you run for?” he asked.
“30 minutes,” I told him. I encouraged him to come with me on his bike, but he said he was done for the day. My phone was finally charged up enough to last for a 30 minute run, and I unplugged it.
“Is it ready now?” he asked.
“Yup,” I told him. He wished me well and I closed the door behind me. 30 minutes later, I walked in the door hot and sweating, earning my right to sit on the couch for the rest of the night.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” the Taz said immediately as I walked in the living room. “I played on the video games when you left, and it’s ok if you take them away for the week,” he told me with a very serious look on his face. I was shocked at his admission. But his brutal honesty became clearer when Mr. W filled me in later. Apparently he had been so interested in my run, how long it was and everything, so that he knew just how long he had to play video games without getting caught. The thing he didn’t factor in was that there was another adult in the house, and that Mr. W was very aware of the time he was allowed video games. And the Taz had been caught red-handed.
I don’t know. Perhaps I’m going about this all the wrong way. Maybe if I just let him keep the stupid video games forever he’ll be too distracted to try and get away with worse addictions – like drugs or alcohol. However, in his efforts to constantly try to win back the games, he’s really a sweet kid. And his game time average for the week is around 2 hours since I keep taking them away.
I think that means I win.