"Yooour backyard friends, The Backyardigans, Toooogether in the backyard again..."
Two bars into this song and I feel slightly nauseous. It's not that I can't stand Nick Jr.'s The Backyardigans, it's that hearing this song immediately transports me back to The Little House, lying, half-dead with morning sickness from an unborn Little Man, knowing I only have twenty minutes to get #1 and #2 ready for preschool, but I have to lie down right now or I'm going to vomit.
Am I the only one who has such deep connections to the music and characters in children's television?
Blues Clues, Sesame Street, Bear in the Big Blue House, these shows were the timemarkers of my baby days. This is not to say I plopped my kids in front of the tube for hours at a time, but when our only commitment of the day required us to be out of the house at the leisurely hour of eight forty-five, and I had a baby to nurse and most likely bathe because he had pissed himself, the TV kept my other two kids from becoming curious about the knife drawer. Speaking of nursing, back in those days when I was waking several times a night to feed, then having to get up with a three and five year old at six-thirty, Steve from Blues Clues was more of a parent than I was at that hour. I would stagger out of bed, change #2's diaper, hand her and her older sister their sippy cups of milk, turn on the boob tube (not meaning myself), make coffee and thank God the baby was still sleeping.
We didn't even have a the DVR back then so everything was real time. There was no twenty-four hours of Nick Jr. Noggin, the only non-commercial pre-school network at that time, came on at six a.m. and went of the air at six p.m. If we were up before Moose and Zee made their appearance on screen, it was going to be a rough day. Similarly, the hour of TV I indulged the girls in* to cook dinner, ended at the perfect time. They sang their goodnight song and then it was time for baths and bed. No haggling for "one more show!", because there was none.
These shows didn't just allow me to get things done like cooking and cleaning, these characters became like my coworkers and I grew to love and hate their personality traits like you would the people with which you share your daily grind. Caillou made me want to rip my ears off with his whiny voice like the music teacher I used to avoid at the copy machine at all costs. Maria from Sesame Street was the no-nonsense Puerto Rican school secretary I loved, but was also a little afraid of. I noticed changes in these friends, like when Steve from went from pleated to flat-front khakis and grew out his 90's Caesar haircut. I would've complimented him in the teacher's lounge. I wondered if Tasha and Uniqua would ever end their power struggle on The Backyardigans and felt Elmo's frustration when Abby Cadabby made him talk to that stupid rock of hers.
The songs were also the sound track of my life. Noggin had this cool thing where they played kids' music videos between shows. Laurie Berkner became my new Joni Mitchell. Ditties like "I'm Not Perfect" bolstered my flagging confidence when I couldn't get #2 to potty train. Before he became the Steve Jobs of the children's music scene with Music for Aardvarks classes, David Weinstone made me feel better about needing some space from my cranky kids by singing, "If you want to be a grump, that's OK, but could you be a grump a little further away? It's not that I don't love you, you know I do, sometimes I'm grumpy too." I was also given the gift of spontaneous small moments with my kids when songs like "Lovely Love My Family" by the Roots would play and we would dance and be silly and just be happy to be together.
Oddly enough, my kids watch less TV than ever now. With all of our activities and their ability to play without the danger of someone sticking their finger in a socket if I leave the room, there's just no need for an electronic babysitter**. And despite my efforts to provide him with the same young childhood experience as his sisters, Little Man watches much less Little Einsteins and way more Good Luck Charlie. But some mornings, when the girls are at school, I have house stuff to do and I've played my obligatory twenty minutes of Hot Wheels, I turn on Playhouse Disney or Nick Jr, or PBS, and there are some of my old friends. A few have retired (Bear in the Big Blue House) and some have moved onto other jobs (Steve), but there are plenty of my old co-workers still around for me to mentally reminisce about the days when my world and my kids were little.
Maybe it's not a TV show for you, maybe it's a particular toy, that when you hold it in your hand, or hear its annoying repetitive song being played, it's like stepping into a time machine. Either way, aren't we lucky to have such easy triggers for such wonderful memories?
OK, maybe not all good. I did do a lot of vomiting to The Backyardigans theme song.
*Yes, I used the TV like a babysitter. I had three kids in five years. Give me a break.
**Sunday mornings are an entirely different story as Daddy and I sneak in a few extra hours of sleep. Wii, Nintendo DS, TV - if it has a screen, it's OK!
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