Brought to You by the Letter S (for Screen Time)

Hi. My name is Sara, and I let my kid have screen time.

I was a kid in the ’90s, and the TV practically raised me. PBS and Nickelodeon were my ride-or-dies. Barney taught me how to make friends (and tolerate people I didn’t like), Lamb Chop sparked my love for music, and Angelica Pickles? She taught me that “sponsibilities” were for suckers.

And honestly? I turned out just fine. Mostly.

These days, letting your kid have screen time feels like admitting you let them smoke cigars before bed. Gasp! Screens?! The horror.

Meanwhile, Miles was introduced to TV when he was just a few weeks old. During those late-night feeds, we binge-watched 7th Heaven together. Judge me if you want, but I needed something to keep me conscious at 2 a.m., and the Camdens kindly opened their overly wholesome home to me.

These days, Miles’ screen time is basically a PBS Kids marathon with the occasional Disney movie or show sprinkled in. I’m raising him right with the classics, though he had the audacity to tell me Rugrats wasn’t his thing. (Rugrats, you guys!) But he did enjoy Rocko’s Modern Life for a while, so I guess we’re good for now.

He also uses the family iPad to play PBS games. Then he turns into a tiny neighborhood gossiper, FaceTiming family members to check in as if he’s running a social network. Nosy? Yes. Adorable? Also yes. After 30 minutes, the iPad gets shut down, well, on a good day.

Miles learned how to crush his morning and bedtime routines thanks to Jessica’s Big Little World. Learned his letters from Sesame Street, picked up early reading skills with an app on his iPad and his dad by his side, and figured out how to process his big toddler feelings courtesy of our emotional king, Daniel Tiger.

And when the TV’s off? He’s out here writing full-length movies starring his stuffed animal crew, catching imaginary bad guys with his fleet of police cars, and building traffic jams with Hot Wheels like it’s his full-time job. The kid’s imagination is next level. He tells so many elaborate stories that sometimes I have to ask Mike, “Wait… did that actually happen?”

Spoiler: It didn’t. But honestly? I respect the hustle.

Screen time might not be your thing, and that’s cool. Really. I won’t judge you for living that unplugged, Montessori-core life. But in this house? We believe in balance. We believe in PBS, the healing powers of Bluey, and the occasional iPad lifeline when the day’s been a little too much.

So while you’re over there baking sourdough and doing sensory bins, I’m over here watching my kid learn empathy from a cartoon tiger and FaceTime his grandma like a 90-year-old man with opinions.

He’s going to be just fine. Better than fine. He’s kind, imaginative, curious, and already has a better social life than I do.

So, if you’re worried about his screen time, don’t be. Worry about your own Wi-Fi.

And hey, if it’s good enough for Mister Rogers, it’s good enough for me.