“My son asked me once, ‘Bapak, do you love your phone more than me?’” recalls Andi, a father of two in Surabaya. “That hurt. But he was right. He sees everything.”

This generation is growing up with an early awareness that lifestyle is a choice — and entertainment is a mirror of values. The phrase Indo Ibu Bapak dilihat anak is more than a cute saying. It is an invitation to mindfulness. Every scroll, every laugh at a late-night show, every lazy Sunday in front of the TV, and every healthy meal prepared with care — all of it is absorbed.

And in watching, they are learning what it means to be grown-up, to relax, to connect, and to live. The question for every Indonesian parent today is not “What should I tell my child?” but rather, “What am I showing my child through my lifestyle and entertainment — without saying a word?”

Children notice what makes Ibu laugh (a comic stand-up special ) or what makes Bapak cry (a father-son drama on Disney+ Hotstar ). They also notice when parents watch content alone, with headphones, excluding them.

“I used to watch Indonesian Idol with my parents as a child. Now my parents watch The Crown on their iPad in bed, and I watch Cocomelon in the living room. We’re together but apart,” says 12-year-old Adi, surprisingly articulate about family distance.

Children are not just watching cartoons. They are watching us .

In response, some parents now practice “visible phone breaks” — putting devices in a basket during meals or declaring Sunday mornings screen-free. Children notice this too. They notice effort. Not all observation is critical. Many Indonesian parents actively use entertainment to teach. Watching Raya and the Last Dragon becomes a lesson about trust and community. Playing Mobile Legends together becomes a lesson about teamwork — and losing gracefully.

In urban middle-class families, parents increasingly adopt wellness habits — morning yoga, green juices, or jogging around the komplek (neighborhood). Children watch and absorb. “My daughter now reminds me to drink water after waking up because she sees me do it,” says Dewi, a working mother in South Jakarta. “But she also mimics me checking Instagram stories before brushing my teeth. That part I’m less proud of.”

Parents who sing along to dangdut or pop rock in the car show children that joy is allowed. Parents who take time to watch a football match or a sinetron (soap opera) demonstrate that leisure is not laziness — it is balance. Unlike previous generations, today’s Indonesian children are vocal about what they see. They compare their parents to friends’ parents. They ask pointed questions: Why does Ibu always watch sad dramas? Why does Bapak never watch the news with us?

Lifestyle, to a child, is not abstract. It is what Ibu wears to the mall (modest but stylish), what Bapak buys at the supermarket (instant noodles or organic vegetables), and whether weekend mornings mean cleaning the house or watching cartoons together. Perhaps the most visible shift is in how parents consume entertainment. Streaming platforms like Netflix, YouTube, and Vidio have replaced scheduled TV. Parents now curate their own viewing — from Korean dramas to Indonesian stand-up comedy to true crime documentaries.

When parents binge-watch series late into the night, children learn that entertainment can be a private escape. When parents discuss a movie at the dinner table — debating characters or morals — children learn that entertainment has value beyond distraction. The most watched “screen” in any Indonesian home is not the television — it is Ibu dan Bapak staring at their phones. Children observe how often parents check notifications, how they laugh at TikTok videos, and how they sometimes ignore direct questions while scrolling.

“Anak melihat, anak meniru.” (The child sees, the child imitates.) This old Indonesian saying has never felt more relevant. In today’s digital age, where boundaries between personal, social, and family life blur, the lifestyle and entertainment choices of Ibu dan Bapak (Mum and Dad) are under constant — if quiet — observation by the youngest members of the household.

What are children actually seeing when they watch their parents navigate daily routines, leisure time, and media consumption? And how does that shape their own understanding of adulthood, success, and happiness? The day begins before sunrise in many Indonesian homes. Ibu prepares breakfast — perhaps nasi goreng or bubur ayam — while Bapak scrolls through his phone, catching up on news or WhatsApp group messages. A child sitting at the table observes: Eat together, but screens present.

“When I see my parents play video games with me, they become more fun. Less like teachers,” says 9-year-old Kirana from Bandung.