Dear Mommy,
Please put down your phone. I miss you. You are sitting right next to me on the couch right now, but I miss you. I miss our time playing, pretending to put out fires. I miss our time building Lego towers as tall as I am and laughing hysterically when they tumble down on top of us. I miss our time snuggled up together on the couch reading stacks of Clifford books one after another. But you’re busy now. I can tell. I have said your name three times in a row, and I didn’t get a response. What were you doing, you ask? You were on your phone.
Your eyes are glazed over, ignoring your world around you. You’re missing memories and playtime you won’t get back. You’re missing moments you could be cherishing, like when I completed that big forest puzzle all by myself for the first time. You missed how nicely my sister and I were playing together. Instead, you’re on that device, with no smile on your face and not realizing how much time has truly passed.
What are you doing on your phone, Mommy? Are you viewing other people’s lives instead of living your own on social media? Are you connecting with friends and making comments about their family together while you space out during dinnertime. Are you answering emails that can wait until I go to bed or in the morning when you’re back at work? Are you looking through old photographs of me? Are you posting new ones from our short family time together this morning?
Mommy, was it worth it?
Were all of the likes and comments worth the time you lost with me? Do those things fill your cup with happiness, more than time with me? What can I do differently to change to make you want to spend more time with me? I promise I’ll be good. I promise I’ll listen. Just please put your phone down.
All I am asking Mommy is that you make a change. I miss you. You are the best mommy in the world, and I want to spend all of the time possible together. We can’t do anything about the time missed together, but we can sure make a change for the future. Please put your phone down. I’m only little once.
I love you, Mommy.
