Many of you know that we are living sans TV in our new house. Well, actually we have a TV, we just have no satellite, no cable, and no antennae. We live with videos.
For some time I have been meaning to report on this and how it is working with our family, but I've been hesitant to do so, because, to be honest, I'm still not sure how it's working for us. I'm not sure if we are better or worse because of it. I'm still not sure that I shouldn't run out and buy the first satellite system we can afford or if I would regret doing so. Maybe you guys can give your input.
For years, my father has lived without TV. It works just fine for him. He lives in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by shelves full of books--the walls are quite literally lined with them. He reads magazines, he reads books, he watches movies on DVD (he is quite the movie junkie), and he listens to music. He visits friends. He comes over and cooks for us. In the summer he works his garden. He honestly does not miss TV.
Paul & I, however, were (are?) TV junkies. When we lived in Raleigh, the TV would be turned on the minute we walked in the door and not turned off until Paul came up to bed. We ate breakfast to Good Morning America. When I was home during the day, the TV was on. Weekends, if we were home, the TV was on. Not that there ever was anything to watch, really, we just had it on. Paul liked to The History Channel, movie channels (Turner Classic Movies, AMC, etc), and he was hooked on The Daily Show and Stephen Colbert. I liked to watch HGTV, Martha Stewart, Dr. Phil, Oprah (and of course, I did have this 30-year history with General Hospital). It got to the point that Paul could not sleep unless he first feel asleep in front of the TV. If I couldn't sleep, my first thought was to go down and watch TV. It was our drug.
Owen, at first, had no interest in TV. I am ashamed to say that I actively cultivated her addiction to videos, beginning with a Baby Songs video borrowed from a friend. My only excuse is that it was a period of vulnerability for me--staying at home full-time for six months with a one-year-old after Paul moved here to the mountains. I had all day with her. By myself. All Day. I needed a break. From Baby Songs, we moved to Baby Einstein. I comforted myself with the fact that they had good music and were, somewhat, developmentally appropriate and educational.
When we first moved to the mountains, we moved into a small, three-room rental cottage that was the guest house of one of Paul's colleagues. This cottage came with satellite TV. Paul and I could watch our shows, and more. At that time, I only worked two days a week, so three days of five, I was home alone in this little cottage with no Internet connection, few of my own things, and TV. Yes, it was on all day those days. Even on the days and times I was working at home, preparing for my classes. Otherwise the place was just too damn quiet.
During this time, we also discovered Noggin. Noggin was, to us, a Godsend. This channel, for those of you unfamiliar, is a TV channel dedicated to preschoolers. There are no commercials, except for those promoting its own shows and channel. No commercials, though, for stuff. Stuff preschoolers can't buy and don't need. I thought it was wonderful. Through Noggin, Owen discovered Dora, Diego, Blue's Clues, Backyardigans. We also discovered Little Bear, Franklin, Max and Ruby, Charlie and Lola, and Jack's Big Music Show. Some of them we liked better than Owen did, but all of them served the purpose of getting our toddler hooked on TV.
Well, I reasoned, at least they were educational. The quality was good, the production, the repetition, the songs, the new vocabulary...and all this without commercials telling her to buy this, want that.
What I didn't realize is the fact that whole damn enterprise is one big commercial. Dora the Explorer is not just a show (and, I've grown to believe, one with limited educational value), it is a franchise, a marketing scheme in and of itself. Dora and Diego and Blue and the Backyardigans are all excuses to buy more stuff. Dolls, toys, cards, wrapping paper (which now serves as art for Owen's wall), bed linens, clothes, hair bows, toothbrushes, band-aids, diapers, drinks, cereal--you name it, you can get it in a Dora version. Frankly, it's ingenious on behalf of the corporations that came up with this. I mean, seriously, how can any child resist once exposed? How can any child not develop the wants with this kind of bombardment?
Anyway, back to the TV thing...Here we were, trying to start a new life, one that is rich in ways that don't involve money or material things. We said we wanted more family time, more outdoor time, more activities that fulfill us. And yet, we couldn't let go of the soul-sucking boob tube.
So we decided to learn a lesson from my Dad. When we moved into our new house, we decided, we would not get TV service. For one year. We would subscribe to Blockbuster online and the local movie store and get videos--for us and for Owen. This way we could control what she watched and what we watched, and how much. This way, we reasoned, we wouldn't have the TV on as constant background noise. We would have more time for the things we enjoy--reading, spending time together, playing with Owen. It was a simple and beautiful plan.
However, here is what our life without TV is actually like:
We have seen--hundreds of times--every Dora and Blue's Clues and Backyardigans video available at the local movie store. We now have a library of videos we have purchased at Wal-Mart. When Owen comes home, most days, the videos get popped right in--and play for more than an hour while I change clothes, fix dinner, do chores. In the morning, she eats breakfast to one of her videos, and it plays until we leave for daycare. Weekends, she will ask for the videos to be on while she plays. After she goes to bed, Mommy and Daddy will watch a "grown-up movie" at least three days of the week. The other days, we are usually working on class preparation. The days I don't have class, I find myself spending my time either on the computer (as now) or at the office.
On the weekends, sometimes, we will visit our parents--Paul's parents in Asheville and my mom in Hendersonville. At Paul's parents', Owen heads downstairs at some point to watch Noggin or Nick Jr. on their family TV with her cousins (who also live the no-TV life). At my Mom's, Paul and I revert back to our old ways. We turn on the TV (if it's not already on) when we walk in the door and we don't turn it off until late at night after Paul has fallen blissfully asleep in its blue glow. We watch anything and nothing. Movies, HGTV, History Channel. Sometimes, Owen doesn't even get the chance to watch the videos my Mom gets from the library for her because Paul & I are hogging the damn thing.
So there we stand. I have a toddler who is hooked on TV even though we don't really have TV. I have a husband who can't go to sleep unless he has first fallen asleep to something flickering on the screen--be it The Incredibles for the sixtieth time or Barefoot Contessa from Blockbuster Online. And then there's me: As one about to be home more often--first for three weeks straight and then for five of seven days--I find myself asking my friends who want to help out to send me, not baby clothes or diapers or breastfeeding supplies, but tapes of Dr. Phil. Martha. Oprah. I find myself anxious, not facing life with a newborn so much as doing so without TV.
It's almost like drug withdrawal, this breaking away from the boob tube. Come July, our year will be up. Will we be purchasing a satellite? At this point, I honestly do not know.
