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W<\/span>hen I look back on my 1990s childhood, it\u2019s hard not to feel nostalgic. We roamed for miles without supervision, riding our bikes, building dens and swimming in streams. After school, we did crafts or played board games and, though the internet existed, my parents would boot me off to use the landline. Media was tangible \u2013 tapes, CDs, VHS \u2013 and often consumed as a family. I still recall the thrill of going to the video shop to choose a film.<\/p>\n It\u2019s normal to feel like this, especially once you have babies of your own, and the social media algorithms know it. In the three years since I had my son and started writing the Guardian\u2019s Republic of Parenthood column, I\u2019ve noticed a huge upswing of interest in \u201c90s parenting\u201d and, this year, the trend seems to have exploded. Former 90s kids are in the thick of it, trying to work out how to parent our own children. There\u2019s a feeling that huge advances in technology have resulted in a commensurate loss. But what of? Is it possible to get it back? And was parenting really better back then?<\/p>\n \u201cYes. Full stop,\u201d says Justin Flom, a father of two and content creator based in Las Vegas, who built a\u00a0replica Blockbuster video store for his daughters in one of the rooms of his house. \u201cThe whole family would pile into the car, head to the video store and roam the aisles while deciding what to watch,\u201d he says of his own childhood. \u201cIt felt exciting, full of possibility. Scrolling online just isn\u2019t the same.\u201d There\u2019s something about going to a physical place to choose a film together, as well as the anticipation and the delayed gratification when finally watching, that made it feel like an event. \u201cEveryone remembers that blue and yellow sign, the carpet, the ritual of choosing a movie together.\u201d<\/p>\n Some parents are giving their kids landlines, creating a retro bubble of\u00a0resistance against screens<\/p>\n Not everyone has the space or the budget to do what Justin has, but the reasoning underpinning his decision would be familiar to many. \u201cAs\u00a0a\u00a0parent, I\u2019m\u00a0constantly guarding my children against content I\u00a0don\u2019t think is good for their brains,\u201d he says. \u201cWe\u00a0prefer older movies and shows, partly because I\u00a0think the pacing is healthier. They\u2019re not as chaotic or overstimulating.\u201d His girls love the Home Alone movies, Harriet the Spy and Dennis the Menace, and their current favourite is George of the Jungle. Like Justin, I have been drawn towards 1990s media for my son. Current favourites are Pooh\u2019s Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin and Teletubbies, which were both made in 1997 and are a welcome contrast to the frenetic speed of more modern shows.<\/p>\n Justin\u2019s Blockbuster room is a way of making screen time intentional, and that seems to be at the heart of this idea of 90s parenting. \u201cIn the 90s, the critique was that TV would rot your brain, but it was stationary,\u201d he says. \u201cIt lived in your living room. Now, media follows us everywhere. It\u2019s in our pockets, on demand, nonstop. In my house, we work hard to compartmentalise media. It happens at a\u00a0specific time and in a specific place. That\u2019s part of what made Blockbuster special: it was a destination.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/span> Composite: Getty Images<\/p>\n With increasing fears about the effects of screen time, and parent-led campaigns such as Smartphone Free Childhood gaining popularity, it\u2019s no surprise so many of us are looking back to the era just before they exploded. Some parents \u2013 and schools \u2013 are even giving their children landlines. A group of parents in South Portland in the US has done it so their kids can call each other, creating a \u201cretro bubble\u201d of resistance against screens. Scrolling through 90s parenting-themed reels on Instagram (I\u2019m aware of the irony), I\u2019m struck by a video of a\u00a0group of adults and kids having a back garden water fight (organised via landline, of course), having put all their smartphones in a bowl on top of a high cupboard. It takes me back to a time when we weren\u2019t stuck behind screens and our summers often saw all the neighbourhood kids engaged in huge water fights. It was when the mums joined in \u2013 coming out with a bucket or washing up bowl so you knew they meant business \u2013 that you\u2019d get really excited.<\/p>\n Jess Russell is a big believer in the importance of play. A former primary school teacher and special needs coordinator, Jess is now a stay-at-home mum to two children, aged one and three, and uses her Instagram account @playideasforlittles to campaign for more learning through play in the curriculum. \u201cI\u00a0grew up in the countryside, and we were outside all the time. My mum was a stay-at-home mum. We\u2019d do lots of arts and crafts at home,\u201d she says. She\u2019s trying to replicate this with her own children by giving them a slower pace of life, with lots of time in the garden and playing board games such as Hungry Hungry Hippos, and only watching TV as a family.<\/p>\n Long stretches of unremarkable time were a gift I\u00a0didn\u2019t know I\u2019d miss, and I want that for my kids. I\u00a0don\u2019t want to schedule every hour of their lives<\/p>\n One of the reasons Jess left teaching was because she was disillusioned by the direction of education, away from play-based fun towards a more results-driven system. She feels lucky to be able to stay at home to look after her children \u2013 which was far more common in the 90s, when you didn\u2019t always need two incomes to cover housing costs. I feel the same about working part-time, and wonder if 90s nostalgia is partly to do with modern parents having to work all hours to keep their heads above water, when they\u2019d like more time with their kids and for it to be playful.<\/p>\n It\u2019s not just about screens, I realise, it\u2019s about connection, family time and, actually, time more generally. \u201cParenting in the 90s was basically just \u2018slow\u2019 parenting,\u201d says Jess. That means not ferrying kids from activity to activity so days are jam-packed. Boredom is important, says Melanie Murphy, a mother of two from Dublin, who describes herself as \u201cyour nostalgic millennial mum friend\u201d on Instagram. \u201cLong stretches of unremarkable time were a gift I\u00a0didn\u2019t know I\u2019d miss, and I want that for my kids. I\u00a0don\u2019t want to schedule every hour of their lives. I\u00a0don\u2019t want their lives to go by while their eyes are fixed on a device inches from their faces.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/span> Composite: Getty Images<\/p>\n It is when her children, aged two and four, are bored, says Melanie, that their imaginations really take over. \u201cThey\u2019ll build forts, the floor will be lava, underneath the table will become a dragon\u2019s den. We\u00a0go outside in old clothes and get filthy looking for bugs. They\u2019ll \u2018help me\u2019 cook the dinner and clean the house \u2026 We play music and have dance parties. We\u00a0watch my old DVDs on a projector. We colour and paint for hours and read lots of books. Treasure hunts, picnics, making a mess, simple conversations. My husband and I have pulled back on structured activities, adult-led plans and screen time, and as a\u00a0result our house constantly looks like a bomb has dropped, but the kids are happy so we don\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n No doubt some 90s kids will laugh bitterly reading that. One funny video about 90s childhoods describes them as following your mum around changing rooms and having your hair cut in the kitchen, both experiences I can identify with. When I ask a friend if she mothers like a 90s parent, or knows anyone who does, she replies: \u201cHmmm \u2026 as in sleep training, lots of TV and Crispy Pancakes?\u201d<\/p>\n What I\u00a0long for isn\u2019t a time machine, but a nice blend: the laid-back spirit of 90s parenting with the emotional awareness and knowledge we have today<\/p>\n She has a point. Every 90s parenting proponent I\u00a0speak to, though, is well aware of the danger of rose\u2011tinted spectacles (round ones with wire frames, naturally). I ask Melanie which aspects of the 90s she might want to leave in the past. \u201cThe physical discipline. Being taught to \u2018toughen up\u2019 instead of allowing emotions to pass through the body as they\u2019re meant to,\u201d she says, also citing sleep training and the \u2018naughty step\u2019. The list goes on: \u201cSecondhand smoke everywhere. The neglect of mental health \u2026 Gender stereotyping was off the charts, so was diet culture and UPF (ultra-processed foods) culture.\u201d Her mum was in WeightWatchers, and Melanie used to binge on Pop-Tarts, then try to \u201cundo\u201d the snacks with sit-ups. That can all stay in the past. She also points out not all families were watching films together. In some, there was \u201clittle to no supervision of media consumption\u201d and the children would see some incredibly inappropriate and traumatic content.<\/p>\n skip past newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Sign up to Inside Saturday<\/span><\/p>\n The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend.<\/p>\n Privacy Notice: <\/strong>Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.<\/span><\/p>\n after newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Sometimes, the laissez-faire nature of 90s parenting could stray into neglect. In my own case, though, I look back wistfully on how \u201cfree range\u201d I\u00a0was as a child. Justin\u2019s experience was similar. \u201cMy\u00a0parents didn\u2019t always know where I was and that was OK,\u201d he says. \u201cI got hurt sometimes. Kids used to break their arms sometimes. And then we learned not to do the thing that broke our arm.\u201d (I\u00a0did indeed break my arm.)<\/p>\n <\/span> Composite: Getty Images<\/p>\n \u201cThat kind of risk-taking is important. It\u2019s how kids learn judgment. These days, we bubble-wrap childhood so tightly that we\u2019re taking those lessons away,\u201d he says. There has been too much of an overcorrection, he thinks, and people \u201care longing for something a little looser, a little more analogue. Parenting that\u2019s not ruled by fear.\u201d<\/p>\n In other words, we are looking to redress the balance. \u201cWe know so much more now \u2013 about emotions, neurodiversity, safeguarding, food \u2013 and that\u2019s obviously a good thing,\u201d says Melanie. \u201cWhat I\u00a0long for isn\u2019t a time machine, but a nice blend: the laid-back spirit of 90s parenting with the emotional awareness and knowledge we have today.\u201d<\/p>\n I thought it was worth talking to someone who actually was a parent in the 90s about it, so Jess put me in touch with her mum, Lynn. \u201cI had precious time with my children and I really value that,\u201d she says of their long days spent outdoors, at home or with friends. She points out that shops used to be closed on a Sunday, and the simple joy of that being a\u00a0day for family. \u201cToday\u2019s parents are craving that simplicity in family time.<\/p>\n <\/span> Composite: Getty Images<\/p>\n \u201cWe lived in a two-bedroom house, and I had a\u00a0rubbish car \u2026 Now people feel as if they have to sustain this standard of living. I feel really sorry for\u00a0them, because there\u2019s just too much pressure.\u201d I\u00a0ask Lynn if there is anything that is better now, and\u00a0she struggles to think of anything. \u201cI really admire mums nowadays because you\u2019re balancing so much. I just didn\u2019t have that. It was really quite\u00a0straightforward.\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019ll confess that when I first encountered the concept of 90s parenting, I thought it was a bit of a\u00a0sentimental gimmick, driven by ageing millennials in thrall to social media algorithms. But if that is the case then why, writing this, do I feel so \u2026 sad? Perhaps the combined pressures of childcare and working, not to mention exhaustion (my son hasn\u2019t been sleeping) are making me feel wobbly, but I\u00a0suddenly feel close to tears thinking about choosing a\u00a0VHS in the local Spar, even though that film was Scream (1996) and my mum made us turn it off. I\u00a0can\u2019t quite seem to shake this feeling of loss, and of\u00a0wanting to return to a simpler time. Maybe I\u00a0just need more fun in my life. Time for a water fight, I\u00a0think. Who\u2019s in?<\/p>\n The Republic of Parenthood: On Bringing Up Babies by\u00a0Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett<\/em> is published by September Publishing (\u00a318.99). <\/em>To <\/em>support the Guardian, order your copy at<\/em> <\/em>guardianbookshop.com<\/em>. Delivery charges may apply.<\/em><\/p>\n