The Demise of the Art of Distraction

Video may have killed the radio star, but it was the computer that ended my moonlighting gig as a Jedi Knight.

One of the most potent weapons in my parenting arsenal these past three years has been the ability to distract. I suppose it's something all parents learn: to constructively channel your child's attention toward something- anything- else at the drop of a dime. In the Star Wars movies, it's known as the Jedi Mind Trick. I call it the Art of Distraction and I've had many opportunities to hone my ability with Phoebe, my 3-year old daughter. It is a handy skill to have in a variety of places: at home, dinner parties, grocery stores and malls, or a long trip in the car.

At least it used to, anyway.

Lately, my skills have been slipping. Phoebe's become single-mindedly stubborn. Plus, her ability to recall what’s been said and promised to her has improved. A lot. These cognitive developments are requiring me to exercise greater degrees of intrepedity and creativity than ever before. Sometimes I’m successful, but I’m ultimately losing the war. It was always only a matter of time, I know, but I thought I had more of it at my disposal.

And now, there’s the computer. Our computer. We saw it coming, of course and in a way, even encouraged it. Her first computer was a gift. While I was in Texas for my grandmother’s funeral last December, my father gave me a small children's laptop computer, one of those jobs you can find in just about any store- relatively inexpensive and loaded with a ton of educational games.

“As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it for my little Phoebe,” Dad said, a proud smile on his face. “I know she’ll like it.” It was a very sweet thing for him to do and he was quite right; Phoebe loved it.

A few months later, Phoebe’s godmother gave us a handful of educational computer CDs. You know how the addiction experts say that marijuana is a gateway drug? I believe educational CDs are the gateway to creating preschool computer addicts.

After playing with a CD one day, Phoebe decided she wanted to branch out, so I took her to the PBS site for kids. She’d wanted to go to the Disney site, but I wasn’t down with that. Besides, I like PBS’ afternoon programming; it’s kid-friendly and generally age-appropriate. Initially, we played the games together, but when she became confident enough to play them on her own, and I was confident that I could trust the content, she didn’t need us as often. Occasionally, I allow her to go to the Disney site and we’ll play a few games together, but I don’t much care for that one. For starters, they’re always asking for name and address information in order to sign me up for different levels of login access and club or membership groups. I don’t like that. Besides, I’d much rather see Phoebe develop her problem-solving, spatial and physical coordination, and general computer skills in ways that don’t involve choosing the accessories that best match Barbie’s outfit.

Plus…I really can’t stand Hannah Montana.

But now we’ve created a monster. If we didn’t set limits, Phoebe would sit in front of the monitor 8 hours a day, playing the same games over and over again. Not good. At all.

Now, as a former Jedi, I find myself in a position where I must develop new strategies to keep her off the computer, creatively challenged, and manageable in public. Where’s Obi-Wan or Yoda when you need them?