I remember a time when children played outside and hours felt like days.

Kids could pretend they were on a spaceship headed to Mars. Living room chairs became part of the ship. Monkey bars were rockets. Backyards became worlds.

When I was a child, my siblings and I roller-skated in our big backyard or out on the streets, pretending we were competing in the Olympic Games. It was the 70s, after all, and childhood often happened outside. Sometimes time would stand still when my oldest brother played Christmas music in July, and we would all pretend Santa was coming to our house that night.

Music was often playing through my parents’ house. Sometimes it was classical music or opera. Sometimes it was the popular music of the day during family gatherings. My mother loved classical music and wanted each of us to learn to play the piano. Music was the soundtrack of our household.

Later, I watched my own sons play with blocks. They would build forts and pretend to protect them from invaders. Thomas the Train would travel long distances to visit his friends at home. Racing cars would zoom across the kitchen floor and win races that mattered greatly.

Pretending turned simple toys into grand adventures. What looked like play was actually filled with imagination, planning, language, problem-solving, movement, and connection.

All of this play and exploration matters immensely for children’s brains.

So much is different now. Today, I see toddlers as young as two with a cellphone or tablet in their hands, watching movies or cartoons.

Screens have become a fast way to entertain, calm, or quiet a child, especially in public places.
But children need more than entertainment.

I loved taking my sons to the grocery store when they were younger. It turned into a learning experience. They learned to identify fruits and vegetables. They started to notice prices and learn about money. We talked about ingredients and what we would cook that week.

Real life is full of opportunities to learn.

Children learn by experiencing the world. They learn through touching, building, pretending, singing, listening, moving, waiting, helping others, and asking questions.

They learn from conversations in the car. They learn from stories at bedtime. They learn through songs in the kitchen. They learn from stacking blocks on the floor. They learn from walking through the grocery store or a park.

When children use their imagination, they create new possibilities.
Music helps children learn rhythm, language, memory, and expression.
Building blocks help children learn patience, balance, problem-solving, and perseverance.
Life itself teaches children how the world works.

Screens can have a place in a child’s life, but they should not replace hours of playing, imagining, singing, building, and experiencing real life.
A phone can entertain a child for a few minutes or even a few hours. But no screen can replace a parent talking to a child, listening to them, singing with them, explaining something, or connecting while building something with their hands.
Screens cannot replace the adventure of pretending a chair is a rocket ship.
Kids need connection more than they need the latest cellphone to distract them while running errands.

Children need people who are willing to speak to them, guide them, include them in daily activities, and allow them to experience the world around them.

Kids do not need a perfect childhood. They do not need expensive toys or constant activities to stay busy. They do not need to be scheduled every hour of the day with lessons, entertainment, and technology.

Kids need space.
Space to use their imagination.
Space to sing.
Space to build.
Space to pretend a chair is a spaceship.
Space to experience life.
Before screens, children need room to imagine.
Before smartphones and tablets, children need music.
Before another expensive toy, they need blocks, stories, movement, and time.
Before another minute lost to a phone, they need you.
Children need real life.

This is one of the reasons I wrote Raising Children in the Age of Screens. I wanted to encourage parents, caregivers, and educators to reflect on what children need — and still need — in order to grow, learn, and develop in a world filled with technology.