So, we have one television. We’ve had only one television for a number of years, actually, and it works for us. We try not to let the girls watch to much TV, but it’s not because we think it rots their brains. It’s more of the house could be falling down around their ears and they would turn up the volume on the set because they couldn’t hear Olivia’s dialogue over the crashing of support beams.
Example A: Morgan is first introduced to TV as something we turn on while I braid her hair. I need for her to sit still, and the glow of the screen entrances her. That makes me a little nervous, but for the 25 minutes her show is on, she no longer looks like zippity-do-dah about the head. She’s not quite 2 yet, but she’s stringing a few words together to make herself understood. She starts asking to watch “a show” and DH and I gently remind her that it’s only for when we do her hair. She asks, “Watch news?”
Did I mention she’s not quite two yet? When did she learn the difference between CNN and Playhouse Disney? When we gently explain to her that isn’t going to happen, she simply turns to DH and preys on his weakness. “Watch Cow-ba-boys?” she asks? Oh, are we in for it.
Example B: Morgan turns 3 years old and as a birthday treat, I let her watch The Little Mermaid. She was still mastering potty training and realized, at a crucial scene in the movie, she had to go to the bathroom. She calls for me, letting me know, “Mommy, I have to go potty”, to which I reply, “Okay, go to the bathroom.” To her credit, she did make it to the actual bathroom. I’m pretty sure she kept one eye on the TV as she walked over there. After a few minutes, when I didn’t hear the toilet flush, I found her standing in the bathroom, door wide open and her soggy pants down around her ankles. She wasn’t the least bit perturbed. She was looking at something over my shoulder as I peeled off those pee-pee pants. Oh yes, the TV.
In an event, we try to keep the TV to a minimum because the girls have lots of toys, we do arts & craps (when I feel strong enough), we do playdates and basically because I know the TV is my ace-in-the-hole when I need 30 uninterrupted minutes of my own to make a phone call/make dinner/make a mad grab for a cup of coffe with me, myself and I.
Most days, I am the first one up, usually a good hour or so before everyone else. I pull out the laundry and flip on the TV to get caught up on whatever’s in the DVR. Yesterday, was no exception. The day after Christmas means people are going to sleep in, which means, I can still get up early to do some things for me for a little bit. I got up, pounded out 3 miles outside, came in and pulled out the ol‘ laundry buckets. And let me just say for two adults and two children, we produce dirty laundry at an astonishing rate — I’m doing at least 3 loads every other day.
At any rate, the girls come downstairs with their grandma, who sets about getting their breakfast. Santa brought Mo and Co a dollhouse this year, which they busy themselves with in the other room while breakfast is being made. I power on the TV and even over the sound of pots, pans, their Uncle “breathing deeply” on the sofa, Mo is at my side faster than you can say “DVR“.
“Kai washa show? (translation: Can I watch a show?)” she breathes, her eyes affixing themselves to the screen.
“It’s Mommy’s turn to watch a show, and unless you are going to fold some laundry,” I gesture to the two buckets at my feet, “you should go play.”
“Ohhhhhkayyyyy,” she sighs and literally, drops her head to her chest as she trudges out to the room. Walking the green mile back to her toys!
Not even five minutes later, she dashes back into the room, shouting “I have to go potty!” Now the way our family room is set up, the TV is on one wall and the sofa faces the TV set. There is plenty of walking room between the TV and the sofa, as well as behind the sofa. The wall behind the sofa has the door to the laundry room and to the half bath which is where we now find Mo, as she has left the door wide open – again – so that she can keep an eye on the TV.
I am hip to this trick and I turn the TV off, to which her disembodied voice says, “Why did you turn off the TV?”
“So you can use the potty.”
“Mom, I have to tell you something!” Oh boy, this is classic Mo-dizzle stall tactic/pre-face to any defense argument she has ever concocted. “Mom! Mom! Michelle and Karen (her teachers) taught me how to fold laundry in practical life*, so now I can watch TV!”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider handing her the bucket and the remote. Now, if I could just get Co to separate the lights from the darks. . .
*At Mo’s school they do what is called Practical Life activities, which are tasks the child can learn on how to do living activities in a purposeful way. Whenever I ask her what she has done at school on a given day, the top three answers are 1) played, 2) colored and 3) played.