DEAR SPRINGFIELD MAMA

I finally figured it out — a way to break the chains that bind me to my phone and its life-sucking apps. 

I’ve been chasing this for years. A real, lasting escape from the feeds and algorithms that tickle me into knots. 

I tried “focus” apps, Apple’s built-in screentime limits, and even a paid parental control app, setting my own phone as a child’s device. When those didn’t work, I was one click away from buying a $700 Light Phone. But it turns out, all it took was 10 minutes, my existing iPhone and a laptop. There are no workarounds. No options to delete TikTok and re-download it later. 

In fact, there are no social media apps at all on my phone, and no browser. Heck, there’s not even the App Store.

My phone’s gone monastic — pared down, quiet, disciplined. I kept the banking app, books and GPS, but ditched the slot machines.

iPhone Unplugged: How to turn your iPhone into a dumb phone

Grab a friend you trust. Tell them your goals. Together, use this YouTube video to lock down your iPhone. You get to choose all your must-have apps. Personally, I chose apps for the following:

• Exercise
• Banking
• Books
• Photos
• Camera
• Medical
• Spotify
• Maps
• Weather
• Calendar
• Costco (gotta have my digital membership card!)
• Venmo
• Utility (calculator, calendar, etc.)

I’m a few weeks in and my brain is taking a massive exhale. The information blast has throttled from a firehose down to a trickle. As the clutter in my mind clears, the spotlight of my attention is shifting. Once it was shining on a podcast from Diary of a CEO, but now it’s shining on my bedroom ceiling. How long has that water mark been there? Does my roof have a leak?

As I fix my hair and makeup in the morning, I’m not listening to my favorite YouTuber. Instead, I’m wondering how my sister-in-law is faring with her newborn baby. I should visit her. 

The silence is both clarifying and gnawing. 

I reach for my phone constantly; at stoplights, in grocery aisles, and every time I sit in a chair. I look at the screen, see a limited collection of apps and realize none of them will give me the dopamine hit I’m looking for. Then I set it back down, and look up.

Oh yeah, here I am. 

I’m re-learning how to live without constant access to Google or ChatGPT. In grocery aisles, I don’t Google last-minute recipes or ingredient substitutions. I plan ahead and make good guesses. Sometimes, I call my mom. When I see a weird bug on my patio, I don’t take a picture and send it to AI to identify. I just look at it.

I think I’m bored a lot more now. But as I often tell my 4-year-old, being bored is good for you. Being bored gives your brain exercise. I’ve been forced to fill my time intentionally. This week, I launched an official Facebook Page for Dear Springfield Mama and added 260 new followers and 70 new email subscribers. I created a month’s worth of lesson plans for my son’s education. I finally cleared out my summer garden, and put the raised beds to rest for the season. I learned how to make yogurt. I played volleyball and actually enjoyed it.

I feel like I walked out of a casino, bleary eyed, and realized it was broad daylight out here. Hello, life.

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