When did we stop being alarmed by a two-year-old with diabetes? When did thick glasses on an eight-year-old become just another back-to-school shopping item? When did childhood obesity transform from a medical concern into a statistic we quote with resignation?
I watch my son’s friend circle and see what previous generations would have called extraordinary now labeled as ordinary. Type 1 diabetes at two. High myopia requiring strong corrective lenses before age ten. Partial hearing loss from years of headphones at adult volumes. Children carrying the physical weight of adult-sized problems on small frames that should be running, jumping, exploring the world with boundless energy.
We’ve become master explainers. “It’s genetic,” we say, throwing our hands up. “Nothing we could have done.” And yes, genetics load the gun. But epigenetics – the complex interplay between our genes and environment – often pulls the trigger.
What we've normalized:
- Screen time measured in hours daily rather than minutes weekly
- Processed foods as dietary staples rather than occasional treats
- Indoor childhoods in place of outdoor exploration
- Sedentary entertainment replacing active play
- Sleep disruption as a normal part of modern family life
- Stress levels in children that would have concerned previous generations
- Personal audio devices at volumes that damage developing hearing
- Constant consumption of bite-sized content that fragments developing attention spans
What we've forgotten:
- Children’s bodies are still developing, still plastic, still responsive to environmental inputs
- Early childhood nutrition literally shapes organ development
- Movement isn’t just exercise – it’s brain development, immune system strengthening, emotional regulation
- Sleep isn’t downtime – it’s when growth happens, memories consolidate, systems repair
- Nature exposure isn’t a luxury – it’s necessary for proper sensory and nervous system development
The cruel irony is that we have more information about child health than any generation before us, yet we’re raising the first generation expected to live shorter lives than their parents. We know that excessive blue light exposure affects developing eyes. We understand how ultra-processed foods disrupt metabolic development. We recognize how chronic stress in childhood rewrites neural pathways. We’re aware that prolonged exposure to loud audio damages the delicate structures of developing ears. We understand that rapid-fire content consumption trains the brain for distraction rather than sustained focus.
Yet somehow, we’ve accepted these as inevitable byproducts of modern life rather than choices we make daily.
The genetic versus epigenetic reality:
Yes, some children will develop Type 1 diabetes regardless of lifestyle factors. Some will inherit severe myopia. Some will face metabolic challenges written in their DNA. These are the cards dealt by fate, and they deserve our compassion, resources, and medical innovation.
But for every genetic case, there are epigenetic factors we can influence. The child developing insulin resistance from years of sugar-laden drinks and sedentary habits. The myopia accelerated by near-work and limited outdoor time. The hearing damage from headphones that turn whispers into shouts directly into developing ear canals. The scattered attention and inability to focus that comes from years of consuming content designed to grab and release attention every few seconds. The anxiety and depression emerging from chronic sleep deprivation and overstimulation.
What's actually in our hands:
We control the food that enters our homes. We decide how many hours of screen time is “normal.” We choose between the convenience of indoor entertainment and the inconvenience of outdoor play. We set bedtimes. We model eating habits. We create family rhythms that either support or undermine developing bodies and minds.
The uncomfortable truth is that many of the childhood health crises we’ve normalized are preventable. Not all – never all – but enough that our collective shrug feels like moral negligence.
The path forward isn't complicated:
Real food more often than processed convenience. Movement as a daily non-negotiable, not a scheduled activity. Sleep as sacred, not optional. Outdoor time as medicine, not luxury. Screen time as a tool, not a babysitter. Content that builds rather than fragments attention spans. Stress management for the whole family, not just the adults.
These aren’t revolutionary concepts. They’re the baseline conditions under which human children have thrived for millennia. What’s revolutionary is how far we’ve drifted from them while calling it progress.
Our children deserve better than our resignation. They deserve parents who distinguish between what we cannot control and what we choose not to control. They deserve communities that support family health rather than undermine it with convenience culture.
The two-year-old with diabetes, the ten-year-old with thick glasses, the eight-year-old carrying adult weight – they all deserve our very best efforts to address what is addressable, while we support them through what isn’t.
Because the moment we stop being concerned about what we’ve normalized is the moment we stop fighting for what our children deserve: the chance to grow up healthy in bodies that serve them well throughout long, vibrant lives.
What we call “the new normal” is actually a choice. And it’s not too late to choose differently.