From a very, very early age, both of my children have watched way, way too much television – at least too much according to the American Academy of Pediatrics (otherwise known as a group of working men who have never raised children at home by themselves).
I feel kinda, well, meh about the fact that my kids can sing some commercial jingles by heart and
occasionally daily fight over who gets to watch which mind-numbing television program. But they also love to play outdoors (my girl especially) and they seem to be holding childhood obesity at bay for the moment, so I say watch on, kids.
As proof that his brain is not actively rotting right out of his skull due to my negligence, my son put on an impromptu puppet show yesterday while my daughter was out splashing in the creek. He informed me that this show was going to be funny and to be careful not to pee my pants. ‘This isn’t opera, you know,’ he said. Well, he knows his audience, I’ll give him that.
He propped a seat cushion up on one end and covered it with his blankie. The stage was set, and he gave us a few little vignettes, among them The Unicorn Who Cried Bear, and a variation on The Tortoise and the Hare that involved a lemur and a turtle.
So, I offer up my kids as proof positive that watching two hours of tv a day (plus time for video games with Dad!) will not kill a child’s creative impulses or turn their heads into soft goo.
Let’s leave that to the school system.*
*No teachers were harmed in the making of that joke.