When Our Child Started ‘Talking’ to AI, I Saw Your Wisdom

The article was full of big, intimidating phrases. ‘Global AI frameworks.’ ‘Ethical oversight.’ It’s the kind of language that can make a parent feel anxious, like we’re already behind or not doing enough. There’s this pressure to keep up, to have all the answers. But what if the answers are already in our hearts?

Watching you today, I felt a sense of calm. You took those giant robot words and made them human-sized.

“You know how we have traffic lights to help us cross the street safely?” you asked. “We need a little traffic light in our minds when we use this. We have to ask: Is this real? Could this be trying to trick someone? We have to look both ways before we believe it.”

You weren’t just teaching about technology – you were teaching discernment. You were showing how to build our own healthy principles instead of just blindly following a set of rules.

I’ll admit, sometimes I worry. I see our child so absorbed in that little screen, and I wonder if we’re losing them to a world I don’t fully understand. But you have this way of turning that screen into a bridge between you, not a wall.

“Technology is just a tool, a toy—something to play with and build upon—not an authority to obey.”

I’m thinking of the moment the story-making AI came up with a ridiculous ending: “And the princess ate a pickle pizza and lived happily ever after.” The child’s face crumpled with frustration. It wasn’t the right ending.

Instead of dismissing it, you gently asked, “How are you feeling right now? Where are you feeling it in your body?” The little shoulders tensed up. “It feels… wrong. In my tummy.” You nodded, giving the feeling a name. “It’s frustrating when something doesn’t make sense, isn’t it?”

Then you turned it into a game: “Well, that AI is a bit silly! I think the princess would have wanted a chocolate pizza! What kind of pizza would your princess eat?” In that instant, our child went from passive user to active creator.

The news article ended by talking about the importance of ‘parental and community engagement.’ It sounded so formal. But then I thought about you at the playground, talking with the other moms and dads. It wasn’t a scheduled meeting; it was just life.

“This app has way too many ads,” you’d say, or, “This one is great because it encourages them to ask questions.” You were building a community, right there on the park bench. Sharing. Listening. Piecing together a better world.

In this high-speed digital age, you practice the radical art of slowing down. You come home after a long day and dive into our child’s world with your whole heart. Knowing I navigate these changes with you by my side makes my heart do fireworks every single night.