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I love useful tech. We have an AI robot vacuum that runs while we sleep. It is a dream for dog hair. I wake up to clean floors and feel like a wizard. Until the night it found my grounding sheet cord, wrapped itself in a battle, and snapped the cord clean.

I took the first bite of my enchilada and before I said anything my son burst into tears. I asked, “Honey, what is wrong?” He sobbed, “This day is going horrible. First, I had a fit before we got here and now you hate your enchilada. I just want to go home, Mommy.”

I used to have a phone full of my son. Not pictures, though I had those too. I mean contact entries. Numbers stacked like Jenga blocks. Street outreach workers and shelter phone numbers. A friend who spotted him on the corner by the Kroger. The officers who understood that turning him in was not betrayal.

Today I got a ticket. I earned it. I sailed past a toll pay station, waved politely at the camera, and kept driving. I did the math in my head. Pay now and fumble with directions or pay later and keep my brain online.

If you have ever looked at your child glued to a screen and thought, “This thing has tractor beams,” you are not wrong. For many kids, especially those shaped by early adversity, digital tech offers quick relief. Fast rewards. Instant connection. Which can feel like a warm blanket on a cold day.