I reward myself as a parent whenever I avoid using my phone near the kids. It was hard at first, but now I crave human connection.

• I started giving myself points every time I didn't use my cellphone for something around the kids. 
• At first I would only get one or two points a day. 
• Now I crave more human connection than looking at my screen. 

Rain delayed the Red Sox game my 7-year-old daughter and I attended last week.

Cotton candy and peanuts kept the kids in our section, including her, at bay for the wait. But scanning the 500 adults crammed into section 32 at Fenway, I noticed that nearly 100% had smartphones out.

I don't blame them. I was tempted to do the same. The jumbotron had nothing but ads on it for the entirety of the hour, and the lost art of conversation with row-mates was stymied by 90-decibel, nonstop music from the stadium DJ. We might as well have been sitting miles from the nearest baseball fan.

But using my smartphone to pass the time would've not added a point to my self-managed, self-imposed "parent points" rating system.

I give myself points for every time I don't use my phone

You see, I score myself each day for smartphone restraint.

It's something I can't rely on a smartphone to track for me (defeating the purpose) and something I doubt the government or culture will start imposing anytime soon. The only way to demote these stunning, transformational, cure-all fifth limbs on our bodies will be for each of us to want something else even more individually.

Want to play along? Give yourself a parent-point for each of the following behaviors in a 24-hour period:

• Not letting your smartphone beep, vibrate, ring aloud, or play music in front of your child (extra credit: listening to talk radio).

• Not using your smartphone in the car to assist with any of the following when your child is present: sating them with TV or games, playing music, rerouting you from traffic, texting the person you're on your way to meet, checking in on work, giving you directions to a destination (extra credit: asking someone on the street).

• Not referring to, looking at, or letting a smartphone interrupt a meal with your children.

• Not referring to, looking at, or letting a smartphone otherwise interrupt the hour of bedtime rituals with your children.

• Not using your smartphone camera to photograph away your boredom.

• Not bringing your smartphone with you to walk the dog when your children or others' children are on the street or bringing it with you on simple, singular errands within a mile of home.

• Not looking up facts, trivia, images, or songs on your smartphone to settle bets or sate a nagging curiosity from the conversation with your child.

• Not using your smartphone in front of a child to text neighbors, friends, or playmates who live within walking distance of your house (extra point: walking with your child, unannounced, to a playground or neighbor's house).

• Not scrolling newsfeeds on the subway when children are present.

• Talking to your child about any of the above actions you're engaging in as you engage in them, e.g. "I'm not going to look up directions on my phone, I'm going to ask this stranger on the corner up here."

At first, I got very few points

Some of these were pretty radical behaviors when I first started trying them out. Most days, I didn't get more than a point or two. Once, I got to 10 when I forgot my phone for a day trip, and another time when we were so out of range in the wilderness.

What could I possibly want more than time alone with my precious device, joy- or doom-scrolling to my heart's content? All my dopamine-starved brain wants is to swipe and see more, more, more!

I want human connection

Well, it took me 14 years of smartphone clutching, but I've finally figured it out: I want human, one-on-one connection more — slightly more. And I've found a small but growing cadre of like-minded 40-something parents out there who've finally had their fill of gigahertz.

I suspect scientists are out there to back us up on our emerging inclinations to disconnect. But I won't be that kind of holier-than-thou citizen citing studies of children learning more without smartphones, manufacturers using child-labor to mine more precious metals so we can have higher-pixel versions of perfectly usable devices, or adults getting along better when the phone isn't present. And I'd rather not demand of my daughter that she lead the teenage smartphone liberation movement.

Instead, I'm going to till my little garden of tech-minimalism, tallying my parent points each day and seeing what, if anything, grows.