It starts in the high chair. You’re trying to get a spoonful of strained peas into a mouth that is currently acting like a sealed vault, so you pull out the secret weapon. You tap the screen, a cartoon starts singing about colors, and the jaw drops. Success? Sorta. But then you catch your reflection in the black glass of the powered-down tablet later that night and realize you’ve been scrolling through LinkedIn for forty-five minutes while your toddler stacked blocks in total silence. They weren't looking at the blocks. They were looking at the back of your phone. My dad is not a phone is a sentiment that’s been bubbling up in developmental psychology circles lately, and honestly, it’s a wake-up call we probably all need.
The phrase itself sounds silly. Obviously, a human being isn't a piece of hardware manufactured in Shenzhen. But to a three-year-old whose primary view of their parent is the glowing apple logo or a protective silicone case, the distinction starts to blur. We’re physically present, but mentally we’re miles away in a group chat or a news feed. It’s called "phubbing"—phone snubbing—and the data on how it affects kid development is getting pretty heavy.
The "Still Face" Experiment in the Digital Age
Back in the 1970s, Dr. Edward Tronick conducted something called the "Still Face" experiment. It’s famous in psychology. A mother plays with her baby, reacting to every giggle and point. Then, she suddenly goes expressionless. No reaction. The baby notices immediately. They try to get her back. They smile, they reach, they eventually scream in distress because the "social mirror" has been shattered.
Fast forward to 2026. We are doing the Still Face experiment every single time we stop mid-sentence to check a notification.
When you’re looking at your screen, your face goes blank. You aren't mirroring your child’s emotions because you’re reacting to a work email or a funny meme. Your kid sees a slack-jawed, unresponsive wall. This isn't just about being "rude." It’s about brain architecture. Kids learn how to regulate their own emotions by watching us. If the "dad" they see is actually just a person-shaped dock for a mobile device, they lose that feedback loop.
Why Kids Mimic the Screen
Ever notice how a baby will try to "swipe" a physical book? Or how they’ll grab your hand and try to move it away from your face when you’re texting? They aren't just being annoying. They are competing for the most valuable resource in the world: your gaze.
🔗 Read more: Dr Dennis Gross C+ Collagen Brighten Firm Vitamin C Serum Explained (Simply)
Dr. Sherry Turkle, an MIT professor who has spent decades studying how technology changes us, points out that children are incredibly perceptive about where our attention goes. If a child grows up feeling like they are "second best" to a smartphone, they stop trying to engage. They withdraw. Or, more commonly, they act out. Negative attention is better than no attention, right? If throwing a toy gets you to look up from your phone, then throwing a toy is a winning strategy.
The reality is that my dad is not a phone isn't just a metaphor. It’s a plea for personhood. Kids need the version of you that has peripheral vision and can hear a whisper from across the room.
The Work-From-Home Trap
The pandemic changed the rules, and we haven't really fixed them yet. The "office" is now the kitchen table. This has created a "leaky" lifestyle where work never actually stops. You're "home," but you’re on Slack. You're "parenting," but you're answering a "quick" question from your boss.
This creates a weird cognitive dissonance for kids. They see you sitting there, but you’re unavailable. It’s actually more confusing for a child to have a parent who is physically there but mentally absent than it is to have a parent who is simply at an office. At least when you’re at the office, the boundary is clear. When you're "phubbing" at the dinner table, the boundary is invisible and frustrating.
What the Research Actually Says
A study published in Pediatric Research found that even small amounts of "technoference"—distractions caused by mobile devices during parent-child interactions—were associated with more internalizing and externalizing behaviors in children. We're talking tantrums, sulking, and hyperactivity.
💡 You might also like: Double Sided Ribbon Satin: Why the Pro Crafters Always Reach for the Good Stuff
It’s not just the kids, though. It’s us.
When we use our phones as a way to "escape" the boredom of parenting (and let’s be real, playing "The Floor is Lava" for the 400th time is objectively boring), we lose the ability to sit with our own thoughts. We become addicted to the micro-hits of dopamine that social media provides. It makes the slow, steady pace of real-life interaction feel sluggish and uninteresting.
Breaking the Hardware Habit
So, how do you prove to your family that you aren't just a biological extension of your iPhone? It’s not about throwing the device in a lake. That’s not realistic. We live in a digital world. But it is about "sacred spaces."
Most experts, including those from the American Academy of Pediatrics, suggest creating device-free zones. The dining table is the obvious one. But the car is actually more important. When you’re driving, you’re in a captive environment. It’s one of the few times kids actually talk about the deep stuff because they don't have to make eye contact with you. If you’re checking messages at every red light, that window of communication slams shut.
Practical Shifts
- The "Phone Garage": Pick a spot by the front door. When you walk in, the phone stays there for the first hour. No exceptions. That first hour of transition is when your kids are most desperate to reconnect.
- Narrate the Usage: If you have to check something, say it out loud. "I’m looking at the grocery list for five seconds so I know what to make for dinner." This teaches the child that the phone is a tool for a specific task, not a permanent limb.
- Eye Contact Drills: It sounds clinical, but it works. Look your kid in the eye when they speak. Put the phone face down. Even if you aren't listening 100%, the physical act of turning the screen away sends a powerful signal.
The Long-Term Impact of Being "On"
We are the first generation of parents raising kids in a 24/7 connected environment. We don't have a roadmap for this. But we do know that the "attachment" phase of childhood is relatively short.
📖 Related: Dining room layout ideas that actually work for real life
By the time they are teenagers, they’ll have their own screens. They’ll be the ones ignoring you. If you want them to put their phones down during Thanksgiving dinner in ten years, you have to show them how it’s done now. Modeling behavior is the only real leverage a parent has.
If they see you constantly refreshing a feed, they learn that the "most important thing" is always somewhere else. It’s in the cloud. It’s in the "other" room. It’s never here.
Reclaiming the "Dad" Identity
The goal isn't perfection. Everyone fails at this. You’re going to get sucked into a YouTube rabbit hole while your kid is trying to show you a drawing. It happens. The key is the repair.
When you realize you've been "phubbing," put the phone down immediately. Acknowledge it. "Sorry, I got distracted by my phone. I’m back now. Show me that drawing again." This validates their feeling that they are more important than the glass rectangle in your pocket.
Ultimately, the phrase my dad is not a phone is a reminder that humans are "high-bandwidth" creatures. We need scent, touch, tone of voice, and micro-expressions to feel connected. A phone can only provide a tiny fraction of that.
Next Steps for a Screen-Free Connection:
- Establish a "No-Phone Hour": Pick a specific 60-minute window every evening where all adult devices are placed in a drawer. Use this time for high-engagement activities like board games, cooking, or outdoor play.
- Audit Your Notifications: Go into your settings right now and turn off all non-human notifications. If it’s not a text or a call from a real person, you don't need a buzz in your pocket to tell you about a sale or a news update.
- Create a "Digital Sunset": Stop using screens 30 minutes before your children's bedtime. This ensures that the last interaction they have with you for the day is fully present and "analog," which significantly improves their sense of security and sleep quality.
- Replace "Checking" with "Doing": Next time you feel the itch to check your phone while with your kids, grab a physical object instead—a book, a ball, or even a kitchen utensil. Redirecting the physical habit of reaching for your pocket can break the neurological loop over time.