Gogglebox

"Just because he's missed one bedtime story, does not mean he's going to be illiterate."

 

Words of wisdom from Mr W this evening to assuage my guilt (shut me up) about the fact that I had allowed Dexter to watch Thomas 'the mother-chuffing Tank Engine' on my iPad in bed. As the boy's eyes goggled tiredly in his head, emulating his rail-riding heroes, he refused his nightly story - even from his beloved daddy.

 

Whilst I am keen that this is not a pattern we fall into on a regular basis, it did get me thinking about the often controversial issue of children and screen time - specifically television.

 

I LOVE television and I have a very low threshold of intellect and taste when it comes to my viewing pleasure. Soaps, 'talent' shows, reality and countdown programmes are up there with my top televisual choices. To be honest, shameful as it is to admit, I struggle with anything that contains, you know, an actual story - much to the bemusement and frustration of my husband. The only programmes we have truly 'watched' together (i.e. I have put down my phone/iPad to concentrate) are the BBC's 'Sherlock' and the Anglo-French remake of 'The Bridge' - 'The Tunnel'. To me, television is entirely a matter of personal taste: my personal taste is distinctly trashy.

 

My love affair with the idiot's lantern began at an early age. Every Saturday, I would be in my pyjamas until at least twelve, glued to 'Going Live', 'Number 73' or whatever programme du jour was filtering into our living room. As a very young child, I distinctly remember that Emily was most certainly not alone in her love of Bagpuss. However, I always was (and still am) a voracious reader; I'm an English teacher for goodness sake! I also like to think that my social skills have not suffered as a result of my choice to engage in what must be the nation's favourite pastime. I LOVE to chat and am certainly not shy or withdrawn.

 

Dexter has a communication and language delay. A very late talker, whilst he is making oodles of progress, he is still 'behind' with his social skills and chatting. I constantly doubt myself as a parent and I've struggled with the slightly different journey we've had with our boy. Saying that, I've never had an issue with him watching television. He loves cBeebies, most of which in my humble opinion, has educational value. And yes, we are going through a MASSIVE 'Thomas the Tank Engine' phase at the moment which includes the programmes, the films, the books and the model trains themselves. He is obsessed.

 

On our day off today, Dexter and I spent two hours at soft play, visited the toy shop where he was treated to a model Henry, which then allowed me to bribe him to sit in the shopping trolley clutching his latest acquisition whilst we had a tantrum-free time in Waitrose doing the weekly shop.

 

On returning home, the boy proudly declared that he loved Henry and was very keen to get into his playroom to introduce the small green engine to Thomas and Gordon. He then happily spent the afternoon playing with his trains; I caught up on the washing (I may have had a brief disco nap on the sofa). Listening in on and joining in with his train play, it was obvious that Dexter's language and imaginative play have come on in leaps and bounds. It was television that introduced him to Thomas.

 

After a quiet afternoon, a tea that included several types of fruit and a packet of crisps, a bathed and chilled-out boy sat in bed watching the Thomas movie while I caught up on some work emails and some lesson planning. That's my reality; that's our reality. And to me, that's the essence of my train of thought (pardon the pun). Life is all about balance and moderation. Yes, my boy watches telly, but he also goes to the park, does jigsaws, plays with trains and averages three bedtime stories a night. Mr W is right: no books this evening does not constitute a parenting fail.

 

Perhaps I'm afraid of being judged for my attitude to little ones and screens. If parents and carers choose to have a different view, that isn't for me to judge either.

 

After  posting this, having listened to the radio for an hour whilst writing, I'll be turning this screen off and heading for a hot bath. There's nothing on television that interests me this evening and I've got a great novel on the go that I'm desperate to finish...

This post seems to offer a rather tenuous reason to wheel out this picture of the one and only time I have actually appeared ON the television!

 



 

Living in a box: an anniversary

Last Wednesday marked the one year anniversary of our move from my beloved Brighton to the new-build 'box'. My mum keeps telling me off for using 'box' pejoratively; I'm actually using it fondly! I do see our house as a big beige box, but also as a space that we've already put our mark on and a place in which we still feel excited about future projects.

I can't decide if it feels like less than a year or if it feels like we've been here for ever. I do not miss Brighton one bit. I still ADORE the city by the sea and we visit a lot (far more time is spent on the pier nowadays - grim), but we moved to make life easier. And it is.

In the spirit of one of my favourite television genres - the ubiquitous and frankly cheap countdown programme - here's my current top ten reasons why the box really is a gift (see what I've done there?...)

1. Our own path, front door, letter box and hallway. You house dwellers may snigger at how easily pleased I am, but after years of living in a flat in a converted house containing five properties, I LOVE receiving our own junk mail and not having to walk past the latest pile of random tut that's been left out by other residents.

2. A 'playroom': a rather grandiose term for the funny little room on the front of the house that even the developers didn't know how to market with a positive spin. It is home to basically all of Dexter's toys and his precious train tracks and it's Ikea storage heaven for his piles of jigsaws, games, cars, etc. The boy loves to play in there and it means his bedroom stays pretty tidy as it's just used for sleeping.

3. The kitchen: our main room on the ground floor. This is my domain - not in a 1950s sort of way, but more a 'heart of the home' way. I love having a big kitchen table to work at, dump things on and have family meals together. I was brought up in a family that valued eating together. I have been told on more than one occasion by parents of delightful students I teach that their only 'secret' to good parenting is eating (and talking) together. I am still perennially faddy when it comes to food projects, so it's not about the daily creation of gourmet feasts, but just the sitting down together. Breakfast nearly always involves all of us together at the table and it just feels right to start the day that way. The kitchen is also home to a television, radio and ancient sofa. As it's right next door to the playroom and downstairs loo, I've little need for the rest of the house until bedtime!

4. Outside space. Our garden is tiny and frankly, after the wet weather we've had, is really not looking its best. We need to start to sort it out. Regardless, with the onset of spring and its longer days and warmer temperatures, I am still not over the novelty of opening the patio doors in the kitchen onto our own little haven. Plus, the front of the house looks onto a small meadow and the children's park, so there's a lovely sense of space and green.

5. A twenty minute commute: does this need any further elaboration?

6. Three toilets: I'm not showing off. Multiple loos seem to be mandatory in any new-build, irrespective of size or budget. One on each floor is great for lazy folk like us, guests in the house and will undoubtedly be invaluable when I finally attempt full-on potty training with the boy...

7. A sense of community: people chat, folk smile, we know neighbours' names! This is nice.

8. Being slightly out in the sticks makes us more pro-active about getting out and about. We have to drive to most major places, but that does mean we are more likely to plan ahead for visits and outings. Sometimes, having Brighton on our doorstep meant that ironically, we didn't always embrace all it had to offer, or we'd walk into town and do the same old things. Here, we're more inclined to go for a walk in the forest or to a neighbouring village, particularly if there is a tearoom to be found.

9. A blank canvas: a new-build literally doesn't even have toilet roll holders (there's three to buy, remember) and so it is great fun having to think of themes, schemes and colours for each room.

10. Space for guests: whether it's just for a cuppa on the way home from work, a Friday night curry and sleepover, weekend lunch, or my entire family for a week - the quirky layout of our tall, higgledy-piggledy house comes into its own. The box is at its best when its full of family and/or friends. And that, after all, is what makes a house a home.