Archive for the 'Home and Hearth' Category

Children and media: overhyped or underestimated?

NS February 2nd, 2010

Is a lot of ’screen time’ for kids really as horrific as people like to make out? Are children rotting their brains, giving themselves virtual lobotomies, by watching television, playing video games, working on computers and using hand-held music devices/e-readers/mobile phones? A recent report showed that children in the US spend nearly eight hours per day consuming media — nearly as long as the average adult spends at work. I’m sure statistics are similar for children in the UK. This has really freaked some people out. It used to freak me out. I felt (and still feel) guilty for the amount of time The Noble Child spends staring at a screen. But increasingly, I’m asking myself why children consuming media is considered such an atrocity and why we are so panicked about it.

Full disclosure: my three-year-old watches a couple hours of television a day. She knows how to play simple games aimed at pre-schoolers on the computer. She can take photos on our digital camera. She instinctively knew how to use an iPhone when first exposed to one, with little explanation or demonstration. She could double-click and click-and-drag by the time she was two years old. The girl is tech-savvy. But so are her parents. My husband’s career is in computers. We are both active members of online communities; he on his sports forums and I with the blogosphere and Twitter. We both have iPhones. We both like to watch films and a few select TV shows. We stream videos. We take photos and upload them. We read a lot of our news on the computer screen, not from a newspaper spread over the breakfast table (though I do buy a broadsheet a couple times a week — nothing beats the weekend papers in bed). We’re fully linked in, wired up and logged on. So why wouldn’t our daughter (and eventually our son, too) be?

If that’s ALL she did then, yes, it would undoubtedly be unhealthy. If she lacked imagination, social interaction, literacy and communication skills or physical energy then, yes, I would be concerned. But she doesn’t. She is unimaginably sociable, friendly, outgoing, polite, empathetic and energetic. She can watch Finding Nemo contentedly but then jump up (sometimes in the middle of it) and want to play Bears or Hot Lava or Horsey Ride. She’s plainly thriving and developing at a normal pace. So the more I hear and read about the hysteria and see chests being beaten and hair being torn out by guilt-inflicted parents and drama-loving media sources, the more I think we’re blowing this all out of proportion. We all know that “studies say” and “experts suggest” that children have limited screen time, but what is the impetus for all these studies being conducted? Why the money, time and resources spent on finding out whether something that is unavoidably a part of our lives, and our kids’ lives, should be kept away from them?

The first response is to say they are being done for legitimate scientific and social purposes, to ensure that consuming all this new media will not have detrimental effects on us (which is a legitimate concern, certainly), but I have to wonder if at least some of this concern stems from the fact that advances in technology and our lifestyles have changed so rapidly in the last 10-20 years, leaving us little time to grow accustomed to it gradually, that our heads are left spinning, unsure how to process all of the information, choices and consequences. I also wonder if it’s something every generation does, where those who were once young and hip all of a sudden realise that they have grown older and a new modernity has set in, one which vastly influences the way they, and particularly their children, live their lives and spend their time. Often, it is our children who are least scared of these changes and we are the ones left scratching our heads and muttering phrases like “Back in my day…” while fixing whatever newfangled invention is ‘taking over the youth’ with a suspicious stare.

Rock music used to be considered the devil incarnate. Then it was films and TV. Then it was rap music and racy ads. Then it was video games. Now it’s mobile phones and computers. Different decade, same ol’ worries. Old/familiar = good, virtuous; Young/new = scary, unknown.

I saw a poll recently (can’t remember where or I’d link) where parents were asked how much TV their kids actually watched versus how much they told other people their kids watched and the discrepancies were not marginal. More than three-quarters said they felt their children watched too much television but, when asked, most halved that time. So are kids consuming too much media or are we just making each other feel guilty about it by under-reporting and hiding it because we don’t fully understand it? Is this just one more way in which parents are blamed for not being perfect, or are the ‘experts’ right to caution us about the effects of the Age of Tech?

I haven’t fully made up my mind yet. I vacillate between beating myself up and trying to curtail media usage to embracing it and reminding myself that my children are well-rounded, loved and properly cared for, regardless of ’screen time.’ After all, you wouldn’t be reading this post if it wasn’t for CBeebies. I get time to ponder and write (which makes me a better person and mother) and my children learn yoga poses from cute little animated figures, set to soothing music and chattering laughter.  Is that really so bad?

Photo credit

I had a vision of love

NS January 25th, 2010

And after all that waxing lyrical about staying indoors, what did we end up doing yesterday afternoon, less than two hour after I wrote about looking out windows and staying warm? Strapping the wellies on, driving out to Richmond Park, tromping up and down exceedingly muddy paths and then having a good run around the playground.

The lazy, cosy morning and the outdoor, active afternoon…they were perfect. Each on their own but especially together. And when we pulled up in front of our home, just as darkness was throwing its blanket over the half-lit, golden hue clinging to the edges of the sky, The Noble Husband and I turned to each other and smiled. I switched the ignition off and we sat in silence, holding hands for a moment before we turned around to see our children, both asleep and with their faces turned upward in identical, open-mouthed poses, the very picture of vulnerable, lovely innocence. Our eyes met as we gathered our things and silently relayed every emotion our hearts were bursting with. Before we scooped them up and woke them from their peaceful reveries, we looked once more at their soft faces, breathtakingly beautiful, and watched their chests rise and fall, rise and fall, with the breath that we gave them.

“Is there anything more incredible and wonderful then this?” my heart asked his.

The trembling of his lips and the brightening pools of his eyes said that, indeed, there was not.

Sunday Mothering

NS January 24th, 2010

Quiet contemplation and frenzied scribbling (or typing, rather) may not make sense to many as a suitable and entirely worthwhile pursuit on which to spend an entire Sunday when the sun is shining and there are ruddy, muddy outdoor romps to be had, but to me it is perfection and bliss. My husband does not understand it. My children…do they suffer for it? Or, rather, do they benefit from the happiness and satisfaction it gives me?

My method of Sunday mothering may not involve wellies, mountaintop picnics or forest adventures but instead hot chocolate kisses, counting raindrops on windows and reading stories of wizards and cats and little girls who won’t go to bed. We may only venture outside to gather the necessary supplies for baking more chocolate chip cupcakes but does our quiet, near, indoor adventure mean any less simply because it wasn’t undertaken beneath the grey sky and through the long, wet grass?

Perhaps my children will look back at winter Sundays — their mother curled cosily under her blanket, fingers poised motionless above the keyboard as she takes in a scene of familial merriment with a smile as broad as a river on her lips — and they will not be disappointed that we weren’t somewhere new and dangerous, but familiar and safe and warm. Together.

You’ve got to admit it’s getting better

NS December 23rd, 2009

My sister is here visiting and we’ve been busy catching up, going out, preparing for Christmas and just spending time together as a family, hence the silence for the past week. But I wanted to do a quick update for everyone who commented and emailed after my last post, which ended on a pretty miserable note. The Noble Husband went into work the day after I wrote about him losing his contract and was called into a meeting with his boss. It looks like they will be able to keep him on at their offices after Christmas, even though in a different capacity and without overtime. So while his job is secure at the moment, if he can’t squeeze a bit of extra money out of them he will be on a bit less pay then he was before. Still, it’s not as doom and gloom as we originally thought and is a pretty big relief, considering the stark alternative.

Posting will continue to be sporadic and light until after the New Year as not only is my sister here visiting until the 6th and TNH is off work until the 4th, but I’m also working on launching another website, the details of which I will share as soon as it’s all been ironed out and finished up. In the meantime, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and peace and joy this holiday season.

I’d also like to thank you all for reading and commenting on my scribblings in this teeny little corner of the blogosphere;  interacting with you and getting feedback on my writing, not to mention the incredible ‘real life’ support I’ve received, is one of the real bright spots in my life and something I truly cherish. Your readership, along with being listed as a top parenting blog in both the Tots 100 Index and by media communications company Cision in the last few months, has really bolstered my confidence that maybe I really can do this writing malarkey for a living, which is pretty much my lifelong dream. So from the bottom of my newly-Santified heart, I thank you.

Now stop reading this and go be festive and merry! Drink and eat too much, laugh ’til your sides hurt and your pelvic floor feels like it might give, and file away in your heart’s memory this time spent with your loved ones and the looks of contentment and joy on their faces. See you in 2010!

Santa Brain

NS December 4th, 2009

the-grinch

Before

heart copy

After

You know how some people claim to have ‘pregnancy brain’ or ‘mummy brain’, wherein they attempt to explain why they can’t concentrate on anything other than their offspring, but which is really just code for I Haven’t Slept in a Year and/or These Kids Are Hard Work And Parenting Sucks Every Last Drop of Energy Out of The Space Where Caring About Current Events, Interacting With Other Adults and Having Hobbies Or A Social Life Used To Be? Well, there’s a new one I’d like to add to the list: Santa Brain (or Father Christmas Brain for the British readers).

Josie is likely wretching at the thought, but I have already been sucked into the Christmas Vortex, the depths of which I shan’t return from until the January sales are upon us. I know, I know, it’s only December-the-bloody-4th and there’s still three weeks until the jolly man in the red suit squeezes his corpulent frame down my soot-laden chimney and the little George Jesus lays down his sweet head, and I’m an atheist and a cynic and have never been big on Christmas  and all its capitalistic, religious-driven dogmatic glory. Believe me, I know this.  I’d never EVER have pegged myself as a ‘Christmas Person’ but this year has been different.

Maybe it’s because my sister is coming in two weeks and I’m more excited about that than anything, or that The Noble Child is finally at an age where she truly grasps the concept of the holiday that has melted this Grinch McScrooge’’s tiny, icy, bah-humbug heart. Maybe it’s the way her eyes sparkle and the way she claps her hands in gleeful anticipation at the merest mention of Santa and his reindeer that has me all warm and fuzzy ’round the aortic valves. This uncharacteristic soppiness is the reason my house is already festooned with decorations, why we’ve been listening to my Christmas mixed cd since yesterday and why I spent an hour and a half on all fours with a pair of scarves tied around my middle to fashion a harness for Santa (aka TNC in a Santa hat) to hold while I guided the sleigh (armchair) through the night sky (living room), passing out toys to all of the children of the world (The Noble Baby and the cat). It was the most ridiculous but fun way I’ve spent a Thursday afternoon in a long time.

Maybe it’s because when I explained to TNC that not all children get toys on Christmas and that she needs to be very thankful for what she has, her little face crumbled but then quickly lit up as she declared, “I will give all the children my toys and they will be happy again!” and that when I asked her if she would help me wrap the winter scarves, hats and gloves I donate to a homeless shelter each year, she looked me in the eye and said “Of course I will, Mummy! People need to stay warm on Christmas.”

Whatever it is, and however much it might ruin my ’street cred’ amongst those who dismiss it all as corporate-driven bumpkis, I have rediscovered the magic of Christmas and the element of humanity that it brings out in us. And at a time when so much is going on, with the kids and my career and with my personal life, it has given me back something I’ve been missing for awhile: hope. That may be incredibly corny and hokey and mawkishly sentimental and all the rest of it, but since Christmas is a time to celebrate birth (even if I don’t buy into the whole story behind that particular one), it feels really refreshing and and wonderful to forget all the horrors and injustices of the world for just a little while and let my cynicism be replaced by optimism and a childlike sense of wonder at the world.

This ability to be humbled and step back from the bigger picture to celebrate life’s small joys is one of the most powerful gifts that having children has given me.  So please forgive my Santa Brain — my normal one is still there, it’s just busy being dipped in gingerbread houses, holly wreaths, elves and reindeer games. Ho ho ho!

You hate me, don’t you?

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