My throat constricts. Two conflicting waves rise against each other in my mind:
Martine is here to help. Thanks to her being here, both Karan and I got to catch up on some much needed sleep. Earlier, I had nothing left to give to my babies, and without her help, I don’t know what we would have done.
But I’ve read enough research and studies on screen time for babies under two years old to know how bad this is for them. They’re six weeks old, for crying out loud. No matter how much the guilt chokes me up at saying something to Martine when she has given us this help, I can’t let this fly.
Martine sees me standing at the doorway and smiles. “You look a lot better, sweetie.”
“I feel better.” I walk over to my babies and kneel next to them, taking the phone away. “Listen, Martine…”
“That’s been helping them last longer in tummy time,” Martine interrupts. “And get some much needed cleaning done around here. You two are definitely in the thick of it. I’m so glad Karan called me.”
I stand and hand the phone back to her. Her brow furrows as I go back to my twins, who start fussing a little.
“I understand that,” I say as I pick up and cradle both my babies. “And I appreciate all your help. I really do. I’d just like to ask you not to use screens or TVs. Music is fine, but no screens. Not until they’re at least a year old.”
Martine purses her lips. “Karan watched TV when he was a baby, and he turned out just fine. More than fine, if you ask me.”
“I know he turned out fine,” I argue, doing my best to keep my tone friendly. “But there’s still a risk for their development. Weknow more about the way screens affect young kids now than we did before.”
I hope she can understand I’m not criticizing her parenting choices.
We do the best with the information we have and the resources we’re given.
Unfortunately, that’s not how Martine takes it. At all.
She raises her eyebrows. “So you think I was a bad mom for putting Karan at risk?”
“What? No.” I focus on the sensation of my babies against the bare skin of my arms to help me stay settled down. “I think you did the best you could with the information you had at the time.”
“Whatever.” She stands, pockets her phone, and heads towards the hallway. “I won’t dare to turn on that dangerous screen again.”
With that, she’s gone.
I taste something sour in my mouth. Martine has never, ever taken that tone with me. Never.
But maybe it’s because I’ve never truly disagreed with her before.
Chapter 19
Karan
The kitchen feels impossibly crowded this morning. Rachel stands at the far counter, carefully angled away from where I'm getting coffee. When I reach past her for the sugar, she shifts subtly to maintain the careful bubble of space around herself.
My mother notices. Of course she does. I catch her exchanging worried looks with Dad as she serves up another round of pancakes.
But she says nothing. Instead, she adds extra blueberries to Rachel’s plate the way she always has when she thinks one of us needs cheering up.
Only the boys seem oblivious to the tension. All their attention is on my cousins as they happily chat away about the ice fishing we’ll be doing today. Ajay, the eldest of the two, demonstrates proper fishing technique with his fork while both Cayce andCorey hang on every word, eyes wide with anticipation for their first real ice fishing experience.
“And then you have to be really quiet,” Ajay explains seriously, “or you’ll scare all the fish away.”
“Like this?” Corey whispers, making himself so small in his chair that we all can’t help but laugh.
The sound of Rachel’s laughter mingles with mine for a moment before she catches herself. The joy disappears from her face, turning to ash.
She busies herself with clearing plates and turns away before I can catch her eye.
“Everyone bundle up properly,” Mom calls as we start to disperse. “It’s freezing out there.”
