iPad addiction 21/31

So....yesterday's post was a positive one which was brought to you by the courtesy of Hannah's iPad.    But yesterday afternoon, Hannah sneaked her iPad into her room while she was supposed to be cleaning her room.  We try to limit Hannah's screen time, though we are more lax with it than we were with her siblings.  But we REALLY don't like her sequestering herself in her room watching shows on Netflix on the iPad .   Of course, the shows she watches are really fine--nothing scary or violent.  She still seems to enjoy shows for younger children or nature shows.

When I caught her lounging on her bed I told her she needed to turn it off and do something else, and reminded her of the ask-before-doing rule. She agreed that it would be good to go outside to play (she had cleaned her room--that's never a problem, which I don't understand at all--I HATED cleaning my room.  Still don't like it.).

This morning I went into her room to wake her, but she was already awake with her iPad--trying to hide it from me.   So I took it away.   I reiterated the constant rule:  Ask to bring the iPad into your room, just the same as how as you ask to watch TV or use the computer.

She was sheepish.

We went off to church, the Art Museum, and Brunch.  As we arrived home, Hannah asked if she could have her iPad.         NO.

I knew she was mad.   She doesn't usually get angry--she does get frustrated, irritated or annoyed, but we rarely see her getting mad.   I'm always glad when she gets mad.  It means she's got the full gamut of emotions.  It's good for her to react.  I want her to own her feelings and figure out what kinds of responses are appropriate.

It took her a few minutes to make some noise.   I was in my room changing into lazy clothes when I heard her loud sobbing in the hall.  Kate was there, listening to her, talking about what happened.  I told Hannah that I understood that she was upset because she couldn't have her iPad.  She had two choices:

1. Get some tissues and blow her nose and think of something else she could do.

or 

2.  Keep crying, but do it in her room so we wouldn't have to listen to her.

She stomped down the hall and slammed her bedroom door.

It made me happy.  A typical sullen teenager.  I've had those before, and am grateful that I've got another one.


Tomorrow she'll get some iPad privileges back, but most likely there won't be a Netflix app on it anymore.