I Took My Screen Obsessed Kid on a iPad-Free Vacation. Here’s How it Went

I decided to put this to the test.

I’m the exhausted parent of an almost five-year-old. Admittedly, I’ve been relying too much on the iPad for the heavy lifting of parenting when I simply can’t. Listen, we’re all for screens on flights. Want to watch 15 episodes of Paw Patrol? Great. Want to play every game on the Khan Academy Kids app? Knock yourself out. And I know I’m not the only one.

Even the highly anticipated Toy Story 5 speaks to the worrying relationship between young kids and technology. How do we, as parents, balance technology while still giving kids the kind of childhood we millennials had, one filled with bike rides, playing tag, and using our imaginations?

I know I rely heavily on my Apple devices, but I’ve been wanting to become more mindful about screen usage, especially for my kiddo, Leo. More present. More outdoorsy. More “core memory” and less algorithm. So, I decided we’d test this out by taking a road trip completely sans screens.

When I first pitched the idea to my husband, he asked, “Do we really want to deal with the consequences of a rowdy, annoyed, cranky child for three days if this experiment fails?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I replied.

So off we went to Ojai Valley Inn for a few days of nature-forward family time, leaning fully into outdoor activities, immersive kids programming, and even a little adult relaxation in hopes of creating a reset not just for our son, but for us too.

The 1.5-hour drive to Ojai from Los Angeles was our first test. We have one of those over-the-seat iPad holders in the car that’s become our go-to defense against the occasional “I’m bored” complaint, but in an effort to truly commit to the no-screens vibe, we removed it entirely before leaving so there wouldn’t be an empty case taunting our child from the backseat.

Instead, we loaded up the car, played endless rounds of “I Spy” on the freeway, and listened to a wildly chaotic playlist featuring Harry Styles, The Beatles, and the Frozen soundtrack. Surprisingly, we made it to Ojai Valley Inn without a single whine. Maybe this trip was onto something.

Checking into our room, we were greeted by a balcony overlooking the golf course and a fireplace sitting right beside the bed. Our son immediately pressed the button that ignited the fire and became fully entertained by the flames while we unpacked. No mention of TV. No asking for a screen. Golfers in the distance and a fireplace proved more compelling than Disney+.

That afternoon, we headed to the resort’s Apiary Experience, which felt tailor-made for Leo, who is deeply obsessed with animals and considers Bee Movie essential cinema. We climbed into vented beekeeping suits—mine oversized and Leo’s adorably tiny—as though preparing to harvest artisanal honey or film a low-budget episode of Breaking Bad.

At the working hive on property, we learned about the honey-making process, searched for the queen bee, watched a baby bee emerge, and ended the experience with lavender lemonade and a tasting of cold-pressed honey harvested right there at the resort. Leo was in heaven—a sticky, sweet, sugar-fueled heaven.

I watched as Leo happily devoured honey samples, picked at the accompanying cheese plate, and proudly pointing out worker bees and honeycombs like he’d been studying apiculture for years. More impressively, his attention remained fully locked in for the entire two-hour experience, something even the iPad rarely accomplishes. His true highlight, however, was getting to fill the bee smoker with dried leaves and twigs before the beekeeper dramatically lit it on fire. The honey-induced sugar high at the end felt far more wholesome than the fruit snacks and yogurt pretzels currently living in our designated “emergency snack bag” we grabbed from Trader Joe’s.

Our nature-first getaway was off to a strong start, and dinner at the property’s restaurant, The Oak, arrived at exactly the right moment, just as the mood swings were beginning to hit. A dangerous combination of tired, hot, and wildly over-honeyed. The Oak ended up being the perfect family dinner spot, with a solid kid’s menu for Leo and locally sourced dishes (and wine) for my husband and I. We unpacked our trusty eatsleepdoodle washable placemat so Leo could color while we attempted a semi-relaxed dinner, which lasted approximately six minutes before the theme song to Bluey started blasting from a neighboring table’s iPad.

My husband and I locked eyes in immediate panic. If Leo heard it, the jig was up. I instantly started talking louder in an attempt to drown out the wildly catchy intro music and prevent full-blown screenmageddon. Miraculously, Leo never noticed. Instead, he dove face-first into a kid’s burger and some aggressively well-seasoned fries that arrived at exactly the right moment.

We exhaled in relief, silently praying the neighboring family was either on their final course or watching “The Sign,” the emotionally devastating 28-minute episode that basically counts as a feature film. (If you know, you know.)

After dinner, instead of falling back into our typical at-home evening routine of television, dishes, laundry, and general parenting chaos, we leaned further into vacation mode and made s’mores at the property’s fire tables overlooking the golf course. We grabbed a house-made s’mores kit from Libbey’s Market next to The Oak, roasted marshmallows under the stars, and fully embraced the sticky chaos. By the end of the night, all three of us completely conked out, officially making it one full screen-free day.

I was especially excited for day two because Leo was heading to Camp Oak while I headed to the spa, which is essentially adult summer camp with really nice eucalyptus-scented towels. Camp Oak, the resort’s on-site kids program, is filled with crafts, sensory play, outdoor activities, and enough slime to ruin at least one outfit per child. Each day follows a different theme, ranging from Monster Madness to Junior Detective Day, where kids can make Morse code jewelry and experiment with invisible ink.

Leo attended Animal Kingdom Day, where he made animal masks, shell magnets, and coffee filter butterflies while I wandered over to Spa Ojai for a morning yoga class (complimentary for hotel guests) followed by a Pure Radiance facial. This may have been the biggest revelation of the entire trip. Knowing my child wasn’t just being supervised but was genuinely having the time of his life getting messy, painting, eating snacks, and making crafts with other kids allowed me to fully exhale for the first time in a while.

Parenting rarely leaves room for uninterrupted stillness, and yet there I was, sitting in a robe, drinking tea, and temporarily remembering I existed outside of snack distribution and emotional regulation. After my morning of getting gloriously spoiled, I headed back to Camp Oak to pick up Leo, only to find him actively trying to delay leaving by requesting one final bathroom trip and “one more snack.”

Another huge win.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the Pixie Pool, the resort’s family-friendly pool complete with games, noodles, snacks, and a level of kid energy that somehow still felt surprisingly relaxing. Separate from the adults-only Indigo Pool, it somehow balanced kid chaos with a level of calm that didn’t make me immediately need a cocktail.

As the sun started to set on our final night, we realized something surprising: none of us missed the screens. We just wanted pizza, downtime, and time together, which ended up being enough. While we chose to spend much of our stay immersed in bees, crafts, pools, and Camp Oak, Ojai Valley Inn also offers guided bike and jeep tours, horseback riding, fishing, pickleball, cooking classes, and countless other ways to get families outdoors and genuinely interacting with one another.

For a few days, Leo completely forgot screens existed. Honestly, so did we. The trip didn’t magically turn us into a screen-free family, and I’m sure the iPad will make another appearance on future flights and rainy afternoons. But Ojai Valley Inn reminded me that when kids are engaged, muddy, sticky, curious, and exhausted from actual play, the screens stop feeling quite as necessary.