[This entry was crafted nearly one year before the launch of this blog.]
After two years of watching children’s programming with and for my daughter, my partner has encouraged me to translate my groans and complaints, along with the occasional praise that comes from the exercise.
The focus of this journal/blog/essay is to capture the thoughts of a devoted American mother watching children’s programming along with her daughter with general chatter, a helping of snark, and plenty of concern.
For what it’s worth, I went to grad school for Media Studies and dabbled in film and video production for a period. Shortly thereafter, I did not own a television for more than a decade. Sure, we watched content, but streamed or Netflixed with DVDs years before it was popular.
With a one-bedroom apartment, we knew that the computer living in the bedroom would not be something that we could use with an often sleeping newborn. A TV in the front room would be the solution.
We’re frugal, which partially led to the hiatus from TV in the first place. The thought of a cable bill sours my gut. We live nicely with a “Smart TV” along with satellite antenna, Netflix and Amazon Prime. There’s plenty of content to entertain us at any hour of the day or night.
Unlike most of the appliances in my home, this screen is an active character in our daily activities. It is mounted on a wall directly across from a very comfortable and cushioned couch. We speculated in the era before the baby that if we got a TV it would dominate all attention due to the layout of the furniture and the compact size of the apartment. As prophesized, it has controlled the activities and actions of the household.
I accept this and plan to make the best of it.
Please note, we are a house full of screens. We have the one on the wall. Momma and Daddy each has their cell phone. Daddy has a laptop on the kitchen counter. Momma has actually moved the bedroom computer to the front room. There is also Momma’s rarely used iPad. Tata (Daddy’s Mom) also purchased the baby an electronic device that has content and games on it — but mostly commercials and inducements to earn points…with purchases. As much as I want her to appreciate the value of an analog life and reading, she sees us using devices for entertainment and information most of the time.
Upon rising, my child comes out and finds the “‘mote.” Sometimes she hunts for it.
“‘Mote? ‘Mote? Where are you?”
If I’m in the same room, after she clicks the on switch on the “‘mote,” She turns to me and gives me her toothiest grin — she’s so happy. The day is starting off right and Momma is supporting her.
Obsession has started early. There are a few characters and shows that force their way into her day. My daughter is two and a half. Repetition, forceful repetition, is the way she shows her devotion and passion for her characters.
But as I’m sure it will repeat itself in her teens, the objects of her most intense affection are those that I hold the most abhorrent.
Don’t get me wrong, she has programs and characters that I love. Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood is lovely and I am thrilled that she loves it. But, PJ Masks — this is a program that has caused me to delete Netflix from both my iPad and iPhone. I HATE this show! There’s a lot of content that just flows like air right past and through her, but the fact that she has retained content from this program and repeats it drives me bonkers.
She seems to love the action. She seems to love the camaraderie, particularly the fist bump that the characters do in each show in a display of unity to defeat the villainy of this episode. She loves their names, “Catboy!” “Owlette!” “Gecko!”
She also likes the peril, a bunch. I know that plot devices require a superhero driven project to have a moment where a character says “Oh no!” To have a protagonist say, “I can’t do this,” can convey a sense of vulnerability and connection to their audience.
However, as a mother of a two and a half year old girl, possibilities and empowerment are important to me — especially in this foundation window. After I heard her repeating “I can’t do this,” I drew my line in the sand — No More Masks!!!
November 9, 2019
Skeptically Viewing Mom 