“Watch TV?”

“Baby Ba-goo-ga”

J-man and I had a couple of weeks off with various illnesses, and during that time TV and CDs saved my life. As a daycare baby, he’s used to a very active environment, so he was literally climbing the walls, and sick to boot. But...if you can hold off on TV, do, and if you can’t, just see how fast it changes your life.

Children’s programming is designed to hook kids immediately, and then they learn to recognize all the toys and crap that goes with it. I can’t even walk past a toy store without J-man rhyming off his favourites: dinosaurs, tools, Mickey...the list goes on.

The worst consequence of introducing TV is that J-man now says “Watch TV?” every time we come into the house. The next thing he says is “Tree hus” (Treehouse, which is a channel). He also says “Barney,” “Mickey Mus” (mouse), and “Hanny man” (Handy Manny — a Mr. Fix-It who has talking tools).

If I don’t give in, he will either just walk up to the television and turn it on himself, not that he can find the channel, unless it was the last thing we watched. The alternative is that he will point to the CD player and say “Baby Ba-goo-ga” (beluga), which generally gets me out of TV time, but only for that one song, and then he’s back to “Watch TV?” We distract him with a lot of music and ensure he doesn’t have TV time every day. But if I said he asks for it five times a day, I would not be exaggerating.

He claps when Chuggington comes on — a cartoon with talking trains (very similar to Thomas) — and loves Bert and Ernie’s Great Adventures. Both are “shorts” on Treehouse On Demand, which means they are under ten minutes. If you have a TV addict who, like mine, is under two, these are slightly more tolerable then an entire program and just might give them the fix they need. The good news is J-man’s attention span is still short.

J-man is 18 months old, and Saturday morning cartoons is already a thing in my house —
I guess it’s the influence of an 11-year-old older brother. Next we will be dealing with video
games, which for the moment happen only in the basement and mostly out of sight. I’d like
to say J-man’s never seen one, but one day I had to fold laundry and asked his brother to let
J-man sit and watch him play for just a minute. Next thing I know, J-man had an unplugged
remote and was frantically pressing buttons. Predictably, that ended in tears.

-Sleepwalking Mama

Fitness

It’s my first trip back to the YMCA. The Guppins is 18 months old. I’d heard about the
Y’s child minding program. It’s amazing. You can drop your baby off — over 6 months,
under three years.

Not for that long; that’s how old your kid needs to be.

(Not that I was thinking of doing that…)

(Okay, I was thinking that on some level, obviously.)

It’s for up to two hours while you work out, have a shower (a what?), sauna (you’re
kidding me, right?), engage in brain/body activity. Nice kids’ area, three or four child
minders, not that many kids. It’s like a miracle to me. I drop her off, she’s thrilled, and
it is dawning on me…the feeling of not dragging my ass to the Y, like I did for so many
wasted youthful years, but running there.

I let out a deep chuckle.

I get on a stair climber thing. Eager.

First thought:

My, there are so many young, skinny models here. In fact, almost every woman here is a
young, skinny model.

Second thought:

How do I use this fricking thing? Hmm, what are those machines with TV sets? Is that a
new thing?

I spot a new mother and baby coming into the Y.I have regrettably chosen one of those
machines on display to the foyer and front window of the building, me in my non-work-
out clothes, non–running shoes, non-physique. I avoid eye contact.

Hmm, isn’t that baby a little young for the daycare program?

Huff puff.

The mother walks past me, baby in portable car seat (I remember those).

Huff puff.

Oh my God... She’s...she’s putting the car seat down next to the StairMaster (the kind
with a TV)…she’s getting on the StairMaster...

No wait…

She’s getting off the StairMaster — the car seat just got dinged by the foot thing when
she started working out…will it wake up? Did my baby sleep that soundly? Baby moves
slightly but remains sleeping.

Okay, she’s back on.

She’s flipping channels.

She looks like hell.

Unwashed hair, baggy face (sorry, Mommy).

WHY ISN’T SHE AT HOME SLEEPING??

I watch her flip through the channels. Wonder what she’ll settle on: news (nope), HGTV
(bit of a gander), a baby show (she settles for a sec, flips the channel). I remember my
baby book telling me that if I found myself watching daytime TV (aka Oprah), it might be
a sign of depression…

Well, apparently, NOT WHILE YOU’RE WORKING OUT!

I begin to grin. A full-on huge smile splits across my face. I don’t know why, but I am
suddenly filled with insane joy. I have done that. Maybe I didn’t go to the Y to work out,
but I did do housework, two years of taxes…I did anything, anything to stay in myself,
to recognize myself, to hold on to what and how I used to be. Even if it meant I NEVER
RESTED.

Since I have learned, you sleep when they sleep. If you can, when you can. Sleep when
they sleep.

I keep smiling. I am so happy to be me right now. Even with the extra fifteen pounds.
I may be way out of shape, but I survived the first year. I SURVIVED. And it feels like
sooo long ago.

-Drama Mama

My Daughter, Patron of Dead Canadian Poets: Follow-Up

I asked my fellow moms for their kids’ current favourites, and here are their inspiring lists.

Sleepwalking Mama

Mommy’s Best Kisses by Margaret Anastas and Susan Winter is part of our bedtime routine.
J-man and I call it the kissy book. Another favourite is And Tango Makes Three by Justin
Richardson, Peter Parnell, and Henry Cole — gay penguins hatch an egg and make a family.
And Will Smith’s Just the Two of Us (yes, that’s right, “Fresh Prince”) on being a single dad
(illustrated by Kadir Nelson). It makes me cry every time I read it! Last but not least, Please,
Baby, Please by Spike Lee, Tonya Lewis Lee, and Kadir Nelson.

Secret Weapon Mama

Smalls’ current favourites include So Many Days by Alison McGhee and Taeeun Yoo, Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes by Mem Fox and Helen Oxenbury, Spring Is Here by Taro Gomi, and Click, Clack, 123 by Doreen Cronin and Betsy Lewin.

Gray Mama

These are Lo’s current favourites: My Friends by Taro Gomi, P. Bear’s New Year’s Party by
Paul Owen Lewis, Little Blue and Little Yellow by Leo Lionni, The Way Back Home by Oliver
Jeffers, and Beautiful Oops by Barney Saltzberg.

Tightrope Mama

W and I do love Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown and Clement Hurd — so cliché, I
know. But my number one favourite to read aloud is Bear Snores On by Karma Wilson and Jane Chapman.

Drama Mama

The Guppins loves this classic from the church sale bargain bin: Dr. Seuss’s ABC by Dr. Seuss. She can’t get enough of it.


-East End Mama

See, Television WILL Turn Your Baby into a Teen Mom! Maybe.

Here are a couple of articles on the evils of television for babies. The research isn’t conclusive, but it’s still pretty worrying, so you make your own call, okay?

“The truth about TV & ADHD: Is watching TV linked to a rise in attention deficit
hyperactivity disorder (ADHD)?” Nicole Sprinkle, ADDitude, February/March 2005.

Researchers at Children’s Hospital in Seattle found that the more TV toddlers watch, the
more likely they’ll be to develop attention problems. Their study had flaws, and did not find a
connection between television and ADHD specifically, but follow-up studies did find that the
children in the study who had watched a lot of TV as toddlers had problems in school.

“The effects of fast-paced cartoons” Dimitri A. Christakis, Pediatrics, September 12, 2011.
Authored by one of the researchers in the study noted above, this is a commentary on a
recent study, “The Immediate Impact of Different Types of Television on Young Children’s
Executive Function,” that compared the effects of fast-paced cartoons versus slow-paced
cartoons versus colouring on children’s ability to follow complicated commands and delay
gratification and such. For a more parent-friendly take on the study, check out Seattle
Mama Doc’s blog post, “Fast-Paced Media and 4 Year-Olds: Cartoons on the Brain”.

“Watching television harms toddlers", says psychologist Sarah Hall, The Guardian, April 24, 2007.  A British psychologist believes that allowing toddlers to watch an hour and a half of television a day could lead to problems such as obesity, ADHD, and autism. Not to mention that children who are left with only a TV for company for long stretches can lack social skills.

-East End Mama

Television Will Turn Your Baby into a Teen Mom

I judge you because you watch television.

The only thing I watch is Coronation Street. Religiously, I admit, but my grandparents
watched it, so it’s a family tradition that I’m passing on to my daughter, who yells “More!”
when the theme song ends. (That’s really the only part she pays attention to. That and
the commercials.)

Also, sometimes I watch 30 Rock and Community. I like to support quality programming.
And my one guilty pleasure is anything with hoarders in it. Or fat people. Or pregnant
teens. Or now, thanks to a week spent with my parents, storage lockers.

And then there’s stuff like Dexter, Weeds, Californication…anything from HBO and
Showtime. Once again, quality programming. My latest obsession is True Blood, which
killed my productivity for most of the winter. I blame that on my friends, though — at
least a dozen people told me I had to watch it, so of course I listened to them.

Hmm. I guess maybe a lot of people watch less television than I do, so I’m probably
in no position to judge. But I do judge you because you let your kid watch television.
My daughter isn’t allowed to watch television. (Except, of course, Corrie. And the odd
hockey game or tennis match. A kid needs role models, after all.) I’ve read the research
about ADHD and such; I’ve seen how Cookie reacts to commercials; I’ve made my
decision. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule; if we’re in someone else’s home, or my aunt is
graciously babysitting, I don’t care.

This TV ban wasn’t always in place. Early on, when Cookie was just a couple months
old and our days consisted solely of breastfeeding and changing diapers and napping,
the only other thing we could manage to do was watch television. I like South American
guys with great legs; the World Cup was on. We were thinking of selling our condo; I
was obsessed with HGTV. A fellow new mum admitted to me at the time that she was
watching a lot of judge shows. I got it. Besides, how much was really sinking in for our
babies at that point?

There have been other exceptions to the rule. Recently I needed to distract Cookie so
I could get some work done, so I thought I’d check out Sesame Street. It’d been a few
decades since I last saw it, so naturally I was curious. Straight off the bat I regretted
it. The first bit was about princesses. Grr. I had assumed Sesame Street was more
enlightened than that, but apparently they’ve bought into the whole princess obsession
too. Mind you, the princesses learned that they were perfectly capable of solving
problems themselves and didn’t need to be rescued by a prince, and the hapless
prince was played by Paul Rudd, who I adore, so there were some redeeming qualities.
But today’s show was sponsored by the letter P, so naturally princesses made more
than one appearance. I was furious that Sesame Street would even acknowledge the
existence of princesses. TV experiment #1 failed. Also, Cookie wasn’t that interested.
She mainly likes commercials.

Right now Cookie is with my aunt, probably blissfully watching Dinosaur Train. Which is
fine. But not on my watch. Not until I’ve got another deadline, at least. Guess I’m in no
position to judge.

-East End Mama

Moms

My best, best, best friend in the universe lost her momma-in-law today. I got
her text, “call me when you can,” and knew. I knew bad news was coming. Her
mother-in-law was sick and my best friend’s texts are never that to the point. All
those close to the family knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier.

Her voice was sad and tears were flowing. We talked briefly, I tried to make her
laugh a little, and we hung up.

The rest of the day, I naturally thought about mothers and motherhood — and
how on earth is it possible that some people have to cope without their moms?

I don’t want to sound overly sappy, but I love my mom — a lot. I can’t really think
of too many bad things to say about her. Sure we argue, sure she drives me
capital B Bananas sometimes, but my life would NEVER have been what it is
today without her. Besides the obvious (food, homework help, and Hallowe’en
costumes), there are many things I would not have without my mom. I don’t think
I would have a sense of humour; I learned that from her. I don’t think I would
have patience. What little patience I muster in a day is only a fraction of the
calmness she brought to my childhood.

I am an only child, which may change things, but I doubt it — my mom has love
in her heart for ten kids. I never ever felt ignored or stupid or ashamed in my own
home. Sure, I failed at things; sure, I broke things (just ask my mom about the
time the “dog” cut up a perfectly good blanket while I was innocently watching
TV); sure, I was bratty. Okay, I was seriously bratty: when she said “no” to me, I
would sing the Kids Help Phone number to her. But no matter what I said or did,
that woman just loved me. I knew it then and I really know it now.

They say that you can only really know how much your parents love you once
you have your own kids, but honestly, with my mom — I always knew. I didn’t
need W to show me — merely to reinforce — that my mom did it all for me. She
worked shit jobs, she cooked hot meals, she drove me around, she made me
hot cocoa and popcorn, and she still makes me pancakes if she comes within a
hundred feet of me.

As a kid I remember telling my mom that before I was born I was floating on a
cloud watching possible other (presumably less wonderful) moms float by, and
when I saw her I said, “That’s it: her.” I can seriously only hope that I do a fraction
of the job with W that she did with me, and that one day, given the choice, he
would choose me back.

-Tightrope Mama