Second No-Tech Sunday: Two Phone Reaches and Better Questions

On our first no-tech Sunday I reached for my phone four times in the first hour. This time it was twice.

The commitment is one screen-free day a month, with anything more counted as a bonus. This was the bonus round, and it went better than the first.

The first hour, again

The reach still happens before the thought. Half as often is a small sign the habit can be retrained, not just resisted. Two Sundays isn’t much data.

The bigger change was the kids. Last time they lasted about three minutes before asking for their tablets. Then we had to redirect them to board games, and they complained about that too. This time we put the tablets away and nobody complained or needed redirecting. They just started playing, as if they remembered from the first round that something good usually happens after the devices disappear.

That surprised me more than my own improvement. Last time the kids struggled as much as I did. This time they were the easy part. They needed one good day.

Nothing structured, on purpose

We didn’t plan anything. That was the point.

My daughter made up a dance routine and performed it for an audience of two parents and one distinctly unimpressed brother. She didn’t care. She performed it three times.

Andriel built an elaborate scenario with his action figures that ran for two hours and involved a storyline I couldn’t fully follow. He narrated it anyway. I listened.

We ate lunch on the back porch, just because we could.

A different kind of quiet

There’s a specific quiet that comes with these Sundays. The kids are loud, so it’s not silence. It’s a mental quiet I don’t get any other day.

No background task of monitoring Slack. No half-formed reply composing itself in my head while someone else is talking. Just whatever is in front of me.

I hadn’t realised how much of my attention is permanently reserved for things that aren’t in the room. On a normal day that reservation runs in the background, and I only notice it when it stops.

What my wife noticed

She pointed out something I hadn’t seen: I ask better questions on these days.

On regular days I ask “How was school?” and take whatever comes back. On no-tech days I actually listen to the answer long enough to ask a follow-up.

She’s right. When I’m not managing a queue of half-finished thoughts, there’s room left over for attention.

The work anxiety still turns up

It still comes. Less than last time, but it comes.

Sunday, around 4 PM: what if there’s a production alert I’m missing? What if something went out in that morning’s deployment?

The honest answer is probably not, and if there is, the team can handle it. A real incident should reach the people on call through alerting, not through me happening to check my phone. That was true on the first Sunday too. It’s still true; my nervous system just takes longer to believe it.

I’m not as indispensable as my anxiety thinks I am. Admitting that is uncomfortable, but it’s mostly a relief.

Why the commitment stays monthly

Some people do this every week. I respect that. It isn’t where I am yet.

My February plan wrote down every Sunday, and after the first one I scaled the commitment back to monthly. Two in one month doesn’t change that. Monthly is a floor I can hold through a busy quarter, and a month between Sundays is long enough that it never feels like a chore; this one came early because we wanted it, not because the rule said so. Extra Sundays are welcome, but if I make them the rule I’ll eventually break the rule, and then the whole thing quietly stops.

There’s another benefit to keeping the gap. Knowing a particular Sunday will be different gives the week a bit of anticipation, and that’s part of what makes it work.

What the kids might be learning

I’m not sure they’re learning anything explicitly. But they are seeing that Dad puts things down sometimes, that his attention isn’t always split, and that some days exist entirely for them.

If they remember anything about growing up with a parent who works in tech, I’d like it to include that.

Next time: a little structure

Same deal: phones in the drawer.

The first Sunday had a walk with no destination, and the kids found a creek. This one had no plan at all. Next time I might try a walk with a destination that needs no planning: a park, a beach, wherever.

The unstructured time is good. A bit of gentle structure might help the quiet last a little longer into the afternoon, before the 4 PM anxiety arrives.