Blackberry Parenting
My friend’s daughter breaks free from the clump and makes a spectacular pass upfield. I shout “Nice pass, Sarah!” (not her real name) and turn to my friend, one lawn chair away, to share the parenting joy. Hearing me shout his daughter’s name, his head pops up from the Blackberry and he shouts “Way to go, Sarah!” in the general direction of the field. He looks at me and smiles sheepishly, as though to say “Phew! Close one. But I still get credit for being here. Thanks!”
Now I’m at Cub Scouts. The boys are building something that requires just a little more manual dexterity than a 2nd grade boy has. Most of the dads are helping, gently guiding their sons’ use of the hammer. One dad’s Blackberry buzzes. He whips it off his belt faster than a shootout in a spaghetti western. Two hands on the Blackberry, none on the bird house. His son barely notices. He must be used to it. Then the dad dials, and begins talking about the indemnity terms in section 7. I tap him on the shoulder and ask him to go outside. He returns 10 minutes later and says “Sorry… trying to close a deal” as if I would totally understand.
It’s Blackberry Parenting. Take the typical addiction to the Blackberry (or iPhone, or Sidekick…) and cross it with a driven, type-A Silicon Valley lifestyle. I can be a great parent, be there for my kids and still be at work, and do a great job at both.
Well, guess what, busy Bay Area Parents – it’s an illusion. When you are on your death bed, you will not remember the email that you replied to, nor the deal that you closed. But you will remember the excited pride your daughter had when she made that great pass and looked up to share it with you. And maybe closing the deal happened an hour or a day later than you had hoped, but your son will remember finishing the bird house with you, not showing it to you when you finished with your call.
