The strict parenting rule my sons hated – but now thank me for

When my two sons were growing up, I’ll admit I absolutely loved it when another parent, teacher or even a relative complimented me, and them, of course, on their courtesy and politeness. It matters, and as my mum and grandma used to remind me when I was young, it also costs nothing. Both our boys have always shown good manners, but it’s one thing them saying thank you to us for a treat or a present; quite another to be thanked by them for the times when we were pretty strict – and not only that, but years after the events, which is what happened recently. Despite the pair spending, like most of us, a lot of time on their phones, their relationship with their devices was deliberately phased in gradually by me and my husband. It didn’t go down well at the time, and we had to fight a few battles, but the verdict is in: they think we did a good job. “The Death of Bedtime” is the excellently arresting headline on a Substack written by the former strategist for both Tony Blair and Sir Keir Starmer, Peter Hyman. Peter is also an educationalist and has written about how Britain’s teenagers are getting less and less sleep. Unsurprisingly, it’s affecting their mental health, schoolwork and job prospects. The reason? Kids being allowed phones in their bedrooms overnight and being allowed to make their own decisions about when to put the phone down and go to sleep. As Peter points out, “parents wouldn’t let a 14-year-old decide for themselves whether to go to school, drink alcohol every night or eat nothing but sweets. Yet millions of us have effectively decided that whether they sleep or not is their own business.” I can understand why this is the case. Sometimes the pressure from our kids is huge and sometimes as parents we just want an easy life for once. I’ve lost count of how many times we have both given in to pressure about things – often just hours after resolving that, this time we really do mean it. But with the phones we did stick to our guns and that’s why we got the unexpected and belated “thanks and well done” from the boys. This is how we did it. We didn’t let either of them have a smartphone in primary school at all. In their final year, Year 6, every single child in their class had a phone – except our two. We made them wait until after the first term at secondary school. This was my rationale: when I went to secondary school in the 80s, I left the house at 6.45am and caught three buses to get there – without a phone. I wanted to show them that they could go to and from senior school without one and there would be no problem. “We need a phone so we can keep in touch with you, let you know whether football practice is on after school,” was one line of pressure we got from the boys. My husband offered (with a straight face) to get them a burner-style phone with no internet so they could make calls and send texts if they needed to. Funnily enough, they turned down his generous offer. Like any mum, I love it when I see my sons’ faces light up when you’ve chosen a great Christmas or birthday present, so there was part of me that felt like that when they did eventually get a phone; I would enjoy their happiness. They were made up and couldn’t wait to set up their devices, personalise them and get straight onto Snapchat to send messages to their friends (I’d already set up the parental controls/timers before giving them over). But I didn’t feel that same joy of a present well given on either occasion because we were taking them into a whole new world, and we were worried. Both me and my husband are journalists and I feared we might not set a great example when it comes to being engrossed in our handsets. And so, we needed household rules. First, when they got home from school, the phones had to be put on charge in the hall so we could sit in the kitchen and talk to them about their day and have tea together without being interrupted by a thousand notifications. Then they did their homework. I’m not trying to say we were like something out of The Waltons (young people, please Google it) but we did want some boundaries and we also put our own phones away to keep our side of the bargain. After they’d finished their homework and packed their schoolbags for the next day, they were allowed back on their phones for an hour before the usual bedtime ritual of baths and stories (as they got a bit older they would read by themselves or listen to football commentary on Radio 5 Live) and then…well, sleep. Their phones had to stay on charge downstairs. All night. If they had friends round for a sleepover, they too were expected to adhere to the Derbyshire Guidelines. When we told their friends’ parents that this was the deal, most went along with it – albeit with a slight look of shock on their faces, and one parent did tell us their child “needed his phone with him for security”. Everyone knows what that means: he needed his phone to play Minecraft through the night. As our two got older, we allowed the charging point to be just outside their rooms, but it was most definitely outside. It was only once they’d completed their A Levels – so after they’d turned 18 – before we allowed them to keep their phones in their room overnight. Now? One of them is an early riser while the other would sleep through an air raid but despite taking the odd liberty, they are pretty disciplined with their phones – and they’ve told us they are grateful we forbid them to have their phones in their bedroom because, as they readily admitted, they’d “have been on them all night”. As young adults, one is sensible about putting his phone away, the other less so – he walks around with it in his hand much of the time – but we still don’t allow phones at the table and they respect that. I know our way worked just for us and every family is different but I do think Peter Hyman has a point. And I’m delighted that we got something right. That said, I still can’t get them to eat enough fruit…