Dear mom on the iPhone,
I see you over there on the bench, messing on your iPhone. It feels good to relax a little while your kids have fun in the sunshine, doesn't it? You are doing a great job with your kids: You work hard, you teach them manners and have them do their chores.
But, Mama, let me tell you what you don't see right now: Your little girl is spinning round and round, making her dress twirl. She is such a little beauty queen already, the sun shining behind her long hair. She keeps glancing your way to see if you are watching her.
Your little boy keeps shouting, "Mom, MOM, watch this!" I see you acknowledge him, barely glancing his way.
He sees that too. His shoulders slump but only for a moment, as he finds the next cool thing to do.
Now you are pushing your baby in the swing. She loves it! Cooing and smiling with every push. You don't see her though, do you? Your head is bent, your eyes on your phone as you absently push her swing.
Talk to her. Tell her about the clouds, Mommy. The Creator who made them. Tickle her tummy when she comes near you, and enjoy that baby belly laugh that leaves far too quickly.
Put your eyes back on your prize: your kids.
Show them that they are the priority. Wherever you are, be all there. I am not saying it's not OK to check in on your phone, but it's a time-sucker: User beware!
Play time at the park will be over before you know it.
The childhood of your children will be gone before you know it.
They won't always want to come to the park with you, Mommy. They won't always spin and twirl to make their new dress swish. They won't always call out, "Watch me!"
There will come a point when they stop trying, stop calling your name, stop bothering to interrupt your phone time.
Because they know ...
You've shown them, all these moments, that the phone is more important than they are. They see you looking at it at while waiting to pick up brother from school, during playtime, at the dinner table, at bedtime.
I know that's not true, Mommy.
I know your heart says differently.
But your kids can't hear your words, Mommy. Your actions are screaming way too loudly.
May our eyes rest upon those we love, first and foremost, and may everything else fall away in the wonderful, noisy, sticky-fingered glory of it all.
Editor's note: This content by Tonya Ferguson originally appeared on her blog, 4 Little Fergusons. It has been posted here with the author's permission.