Agreement on Boundaries and Limits
Young people have unusual expectations about time and what is fair. I have come to realize that five minutes is a significantly longer percentage of a child’s life than an adult’s. Also, it seems to them that their lives are inherently unfair so why wouldn’t they want to always win?
Children do not get many choices in life. They might not even know what to choose if they had the opportunity. They are generally out of control of their own lives, and so I always give them a good, structured choice when I can.
Here is how I do this:
- I use “plan language” to set expectations.
- I cut down on the “bargaining phase” by using affirmative versus inquisitive phrasing.
- I fully capitalize on boredom.
- I try to avoid the use of a timer.
- I use simple, verbal contracts.
Scroll to the bottom for a link to my secret weapon against boredom, in Review Question 1.
Using Plan Language
I always have several plans in motion. The moment when my son asks me to use the iPad or play a video game, I start to cycle through these plans and see where their undivided attention can be put to use.
Here are some questions I ask myself:
- How much physical activity has this child had today?
- How much physical activity is planned for later?
- Do I need some time to concentrate now or later?
- Could saying “yes” be incorporated into some kind of lesson?
- Could saying “yes” be viewed as a reward for good behavior?
- Could saying “yes” be perceived as a reward for any kind of negative behavior?
I never directly threaten to keep a learning tool like an iPad from a child in order to make them behave. Instead, my language is about choices. For example:
If I see that kind of behavior again, you are going to lose some choices.
They know what I am talking about, I am talking about the iPad. Or activities. Or, watching shows, or other good stuff. But most likely iPad.
The person who says, “Alright, no iPad for a week!” loses a vital educational tool. That person loses credibility as well, because — seriously, when has anyone really stuck to that threat? It is patently ridiculous.
Instead, here is some plan language that I use:
- “Ok, let me tell you the plan.”
- “That is part of the plan for tonight.”
- “No, that was not part of the plan.”
- “Here is the deal.”
- “We should plan for that later.”
- “Ok, when should we plan to do that?”
- “Hmm, I did not plan for this, but alright, on one condition.”
- “That sounds awesome, I wish we had time for that.”
- “That is a good plan.”
- “I think the plan for today should be to have a really good time.”
If they have had good behavior, they get to make a choice or participate in the planning process. We talk about the “plan for the day”, and (most of the time) we go over how the plan worked out at the end of the day. It really helps children to understand what is coming up, and puts events in perspective for everyone.
Nothing ever turns out to plan, but children do not know that yet.
Setting Expectations
Time is always a factor, and things can go from Def Con 5 to Def Con 1 pretty fast depending on youth. I avoid the threat level increase by under-promising and over-delivering.
That is, if I am going to agree to let the boys use a device, I set low expectations, and I do not mean the “ok, but only for a little while” kind of expectations. I mean the “one game” or “one video” or just one of something.
Sometimes, I will say,:
Well alright, ten more.
Think about how awesome that sounds, compared to “one more”. Ten more catches and throws. Ten more tosses on the bed. Ten more achievements, ten more bad guys, ten more tries.
Most of the time, “one more” turns into “two more” or “three more” anyway, because the pressure of “one more” usually makes a person mess up. So, I indulge them.
I never go back on a promise because I want them to keep all of theirs. If I set low expectations, I rarely have to go back on a promise. Knowing that games and videos are like potato chips (you can never have just one), the experience for them feels like Dad is being generous all the time.
They always feel like they are bargaining successfully and getting what they want in the end. This is not being a pushover. This is deliberately balancing the negotiation in my favor from the beginning. I appear magnanimous, showing that I appreciate their needs, and meanwhile I also allow myself a card to play.
Cutting Down on the Bargaining Phase
If I am cooking, driving, or making an important phone call, I cannot physically entertain, properly educate, or fully interact with the boys. If I know there are moments like these coming up, I plan for them.
Setting an appropriate time for technology cuts down on that “bargaining phase”. It helps me to structure the relationship between myself, the child, and the device.
I never bargain for access in exchange for good eating habits. I do consider whether they have used good manners in their request. Rather than watching videos or playing games during dinner, I will ask them for ideas about how to make mealtime more fun. Even if we cannot use these ideas at the time, it helps me as a parent to think ahead.
Affirmative Versus Inquisitive
Here is a speech pattern that I hear all the time:
Alright, but only if you [do x], okay?
It is the “okay” that often causes a problem here. Is an adult really asking if an instruction is okay with a child? “Okay” gives them an out, because the child can just say “No, it is not okay.” Or they can think to themselves, “No it is not okay,” and then just not do it.
I have completely removed this pattern of speech from my vocabulary. I never ask if an instruction of mine is acceptable. Instead, my subtext is like:
This is how it is. Do you understand?
Huge difference.
Here are some alternatives:
- “Did you catch that?”
- “Right?”
- “Am I clear?”
- “Are we clear on this?”
- “Can you promise me?”
- “Any objections?”
- “Sound good?”
- “Are we good?”
- “What do you say?”
- “You know what I mean?”
- “Does that make sense?”
I do it this way because I do want to hear back from them that they heard me. I want them to agree, I am expecting a verbal “yes.” When it is done this way, it ss not a bargain, it’s an all-or-nothing acceptance of terms.
Affirmative language shows self-confidence and mutual respect.
I am the adult, I set the rules. Children obey the rules, that is the way of things. Lately, we have been holding Family Meetings once a week in order to review these rules. If they obey them, they get to help adjust them.
Plan language is a combination of phrasing, limited bargaining, affirmative voice, and shared rule-making. Of course, we do not want kids making all the rules — this is not Lord of the Flies over here — but if they do get to contribute a little bit I am surprised at how well they remember and follow them.
Rewards for good behavior are more choices and more opportunities to help shape the rules. Punishments for bad behavior are fewer choices, just like in real life. This kind of structure is simple and clear, but it is also vague enough to be mildly threatening without being directly mean.
Capitalizing on Boredom
“Dad, I’m bored.”
Good.
“What?”
Boredom is good, that’s when your mind is ready to grow.
“Ok, so what can I do?
Let’s see…
Boredom is an important cognitive state.
When a person is bored, they are primed to use their imagination. If I can get to the reason behind the request, I can avoid the bargaining phase altogether. I always give my boys other choices first: drawing, cooking with me, reading with me, board games, card games, sidewalk chalk — anything other than what I know they want, which is (say it together): iPad.
Oh, I thought you were going to say, “iPad,” but I will accept “Minecraft.”
I never bargain for access in exchange for affection, or use it as a replacement for my attention. Most of the time they ask at moments when they are bored or lonely. I think about moments when I reach for my phone, and how I feel then. I am either procrastinating, too tired to resist, or I am waiting for something or someone.
Or I just checked my phone 30 seconds ago and did not find what I wanted.
These days, I am almost never bored, and that is not a good thing. I can always play a game, check the news, go over recent photos, or send a message:
“It takes a lot of courage to accept boredom in yourself and others, to see it as something other than a failure of imagination. Sometimes that courage is lacking.” -Tom Chatfield
Meditation forces me to be idle. Even then I am not technically bored, I am avoiding the tendency to think about stuff or cling to emotions. In that idle state, I have all kinds of important realizations, and my brain wants to create reminders to achieve those things later — which I cannot do, or I am breaking the “meditation rules.”
It is that phenomenon of realizing things when I am supposed to be focused on breathing that is so interesting. I think one reason we have great ideas in the shower is that we cannot write them down. Our hands are occupied, we are trapped in a little box, and the primal state of wetness forces our brains to be more receptive: it triggers boredom mode.
Boredom mode is generally when we would rather be doing something else — anything else — but we cannot decide what to do. I am a decisive thinker, but I am familiar with the paralysis of indecision. It sometimes comes with an emotional state that is not good.
All About the Feels
When I’m bummed, nothing sounds good or fun or interesting. Nothing anyone suggests seems worth my time, and yet time is all I have at that moment. I almost never realize that the problem is not that I cannot decide, the problem is that I am in a bad emotional state.
The same goes for children. I have noticed that when the children tell me they do not know what to do, it is usually paired with a pretty sad tone of voice. Nothing I suggest seems to catch on with them. I deliberately do not ever mention the iPad, because I do not want it to become an emotional crutch.
The bored mind is not necessarily sad, but it is definitely confused. The mind wants something, but does not know what it wants. This is when I try to give it something to anticipate. If I can create some level of excitement for the future, the mind will sometimes fill in the gaps with fun all its own.
This is like snacking: if I run through all the things in the house to snack on, chances are they are not going to sound appetizing. If I start making a snack, like “ants on a log”, or a salted hard-boiled egg, the chances of a sudden snack attack just went up. My mom used to do this with us all the time. It is kind of an oh-well type situation, deviously effective.
The same goes for activities. If the boys start talking about boredom, I am apt to start drawing, or reading aloud, or wrestling or acting with the attack dummy. Usually, the boys will join in.
Books are the main technology in my house. Books never fail. There are “emergency reading attack” stacks all over the place.
Avoiding the Timer
The key is to give them a good choice. They deserve the right to choose a device, because then at least they have made a considered selection. They know that there are other options, and they know I am not just giving in because they made a cute face. At this point, I set some of my own time limits.
If I do this right, the children remind me of the limits.
Getting a child, who has a limited understanding of time, to relinquish the device at a specified moment is problematic. Setting a timer seems like a reasonable solution, but I thought about it for a second: do I like operating on a timer?
Because of their loose awareness of time, children are usually surprised when time is up. This makes that “timer stress” even worse. It is okay to use the clock as a means to teach them about time, but I try not to rely entirely on the buzzer. Instead of operating strictly by the clock, I make end points rely on achievements within an activity.
Examples include:
- Finishing a lesson
- Completing a level
- Solving a puzzle
- Ending a video
- Navigating a map
- Failing as a game character
- Reaching a checkpoint in a game
By giving children a goal-based end point, they will naturally anticipate when time is up.
Of course, time waits for no one, and there are schedules to keep. In any case, some of the more creative approaches to time-based device management that I have seen include:
- A token system for good behavior: one token = ten minutes of device time
- Equal time spent reading books and playing games; stopwatch for reading, timer for playing
- Even more simply: “read one, watch one.” Read a story, which then unlocks the privilege of watching a short video on the subject
- Built-in timers for apps like YouTube Kids
- Guided Access Time Limits
Nothing is perfect, but I have found that any system that gives children a heads-up before times-up is the most successful. I have found that the more I avoid talking about how much time is left (e.g. “five minutes”) versus a general warning about time being up (e.g. “soon” or “almost”), the less flak I get.
Simple, Verbal Contracts
The simpler I keep my instructions, the more likely my boys are to understand and follow them. Even if the rules are stark or bare, without explanation, I feel that is better than a lot of justification and context. If they want to know why, they will ask, and I will tell them.
I have learned that the time to set limits is before the device is handed over. Generally, they will agree to more limits before the activity begins. I have to be careful, because sometimes they will agree to more than they can live by, just to get their hands on it.
My general rules are pretty simple:
- No device use is permitted without asking.
- Activity is limited to approved apps or content only.
- Activity is limited to agreed-upon achievements or viewing segments.
- Device is turned off and put in its place when not in use.
Other than these four guidelines, the details of how this gets done are less relevant to me.
Rule one is implicit. Rule two is where the first part of the negotiation takes place, followed closely by three. If two and three are followed, number four is easy but usually requires a reminder or some talking to get them to surrender it.
Please, I do not want to have to take it away.
This sentence is usually enough, because they know that if I take it away they are not getting it back the next time they ask. I always try to get my son to look me in the eye and say “Yes, Daddy” to the following question:
You are going to give it up when you are done, right?
This has to be explicit, and it has to be genuine.
This verbal contract is the master key to an adult / device / child relationship. Without this bargain, I may be forced to physically take the device away. The last thing I want to do is disempower the child by physical force — it sends the wrong message.
By making them give up control voluntarily, I have achieved a victory alongside them. They are ennobled with a sense of self-control, and I have avoided conflict by using words. Every time I act peacefully this way, I am leading by example.
I trust my boys to live up to their bargain. If I must, I can enable Parental Controls so that only certain apps or Settings are allowed.
Each time I show them trust, I am rewarded by their enlightenment. Each time they fetch the device, I have them return it to me. Each time they make a good choice, I give them some praise.
When the boys were very little, we had sticker charts for good behavior. These days, they can read and write, so I have the opportunity to create more complex agreements. My son’s teammate has a behavior chart in his family. They represent the following categories, in order of best to worst behavior:
- Family Leader
- Family Helper
- Little Rusty — Little Warning
- Consequence
- Loser Zone — No iPad
The parents move the kids’ names from one “zone” to the other via clothes pins, so that everyone knows how each child is doing. My son has a similar system at his elementary school for classroom behavior. The difference is that the children at home came up with their own labels.
I like this system, both because it is self-imposed and because it is dynamic. There can be no mistake about communication, but there is always room for improvement as behavior changes.
At my place, the system is pretty binary. Best behavior or achievement gets first choice. If I can, I alternate between each child. Sometimes I am tempted to dole out points, but it’s tradition in my family not to “keep score.”
Reading and Writing First
The simplest form of “written contract” is one I share with my five-year-old every day. I make sure he “signs in” to my house, just the way he “signs in” to his pre-school. We have a notebook full of his handwriting, just his first and last name, and the date.
If he asks for electronic entertainment during home school, I make sure we have done “reading and writing” first. This means he has written in his handwriting book, without complaint, and I have had the chance to read aloud with him for a while.
My oldest has actual homework from elementary school. Regardless of how I feel about the institution of homework at this age, I make sure he has made a dent in it before we get to any kind of screen that day.
His younger brother lives by his example, for example going he’s now through one of the graphic novels that populate their room. If we can all reach our goals, our reward for today is Movie Night.
Written contracts are not necessarily documents that children have to read and sign. They are agreements that involve reading and writing. They are goals that relate to letters and words, to “school work” or learning. The simpler the format, the more direct the causation, the greater the chance of understanding and agreement.
Agreement on limits and boundaries is the biggest success factor in the business of managing device time for children. Using plan language and setting goal-based end times will help, but to really understand what kind of goals a kid will accept, I have got to get in there and get dirty with them.
Nobody is perfect, but it helps me to have an ideal.
REVIEW
Here are some questions I use to focus the conversation about limits and boundaries with children:
- What are some activities that I want a child to do, instead of choosing devices and technology? Can I make those easier to start or make them more mobile or portable (like Story Dice)?
- What ambiguous or inquisitive speech can I cut, in favor of precise and authoritative language around boundaries?
- What are some natural timers in my life that can act as triggers for transition, instead of clocks and precision instruments?
- What kind of behavior would result in “bonus time” or extra privilege with devices in my family?
- How does my child’s classroom reward or reprimand behavior, and how can I mimic that at home?
Next Reading
Back to the Beginning
You can always participate in the ongoing discussion:
- Sign up for my mailing list for even more good stuff.
- Join our private Facebook Group.
- Subscribe to updates from our public Facebook Page.
- Follow me on Twitter and engage with #techwild.
- Enjoy some more content on Instagram.
- Find a few threads about this on Reddit.
- Discover new examples on Pinterest.
- Leave a note or comment here on Medium.
- Recommend this story on your favorite platform.
