Putting My Phone Down Without Picking Up More Guilt

Dear Curious Christie and Ms. Resilient,

So… my kid called me out the other day. We were sitting on the couch, half-watching a movie, and out of nowhere, they said, “Mom, you’re on your phone a lot.” And honestly? They’re not wrong.

It stung because I could feel the truth of it. I’m juggling work emails, group chats, school reminders, the never-ending to-do list, and let’s be real… sometimes I’m just escaping into TikTok because my brain needs a break. But hearing it from them made me feel like I’ve been choosing my phone over being present.

I don’t want to swing to the other extreme and lock my phone in a drawer forever (tempting, but not sustainable), and I also don’t want to just shrug this off and pretend it didn’t happen. I want to reset. I want to show up in a way that feels grounded and connected — without beating myself up or turning this into another “I’m failing at parenting” moment.

How do I recalibrate my attention without drowning in guilt or setting impossible expectations for myself?

~ Trying to Look Up More than Down

Dear Trying to Look Up More Than Down,

First, take a breath. A call-out from your kid doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent; it means you’re a human parent. And honestly? The fact that you felt the sting instead of brushing it off tells me you’re already shifting in the direction you want to go. That’s the quiet magic of staying awake to your own experience—you get to choose what happens next instead of spiraling into shame.

Now, about that reset: think of this less like a punishment and more like a gentle recalibration. One that shows your kiddo you’re human too—learning, growing, and juggling a full life, not lacking love. You get to reclaim a little space here.

Try naming what’s happening out loud: “Wow, you’re right. I have been on my phone a lot. I’m working on finding a better balance because being with you matters to me.”

That kind of honesty is emotional bubble wrap—it softens the moment and shows them how to acknowledge a pattern without shame. We all have patterns, and we all need to recalibrate sometimes. So will they.

Then choose one or two tiny, doable shifts—nothing heroic. Maybe phones get charged during dinner. Maybe you set a “scroll window.” Maybe you give yourself five extra minutes of real presence before reaching for the glowing rectangle. What matters is the direction, not perfection.

With warmth and a phone placed (gently) face-down,

Curious Christie

Ms. Resilient offers her perspective using Dovetail Learning’s approach:

Dear Trying to Look Up More Than Down,

Christie beautifully modeled Dovetail Learning’s Centering Skill of Noticing Myself. This skill is all about gently observing what’s going on inside—our reactions, our patterns, our emotions—without piling on judgment or shame.

When your child named what they saw, you noticed the sting. You noticed the truth tucked inside it. And rather than letting that discomfort harden into guilt or defensiveness, you allowed it to invite reflection. That is Noticing Myself in action: pausing long enough to witness your own internal state with curiosity rather than criticism. When we notice how we are feeling—without going into a shame spiral that brings up a Protective Pattern of Defending or Avoiding—we are making big progress.

As Christie highlighted, this awareness gives you choice—a resilient mindset that opens doors. When we notice what’s happening inside, we can choose to respond instead of react. You don’t have to swing to extremes or overhaul your habits overnight. You get to make grounded, compassionate decisions about the small shifts that matter.

So as you move forward, I invite you to keep practicing this quiet noticing:

• What sensations arise each time you reach for your phone?

• What need are you meeting in that moment—rest, escape, connection, relief?

• What happens inside when your child reflects something tender back to you?

There’s no judgment here—just information. Information that helps you recalibrate with honesty and care.

Noticing Myself doesn’t solve everything, but it opens the inner space you need to meet yourself kindly… and from there, to meet your child with the presence you’re longing to offer.

With encouragement for your thoughtful recalibration,
Ms. Resilient

How would you support Trying to Look Up More Than Down? Drop your thoughts in the comments or email ms@dovetaillearning.org—your take might be featured in an upcoming column.

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