Nina In New York: Children's TV Is Insane (And Now So Am I)
A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak
Ah, Spring! That magical time of year when the trees are all dead, the ground is frozen, the birdies are still in Boca, half a foot of new snow falls softly atop child-sized mounds of filthy ice, and a young, stay-at-home mother's fancy turns to part-time employment. Also, vodka.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET US OUT.
Like many in my situation, I rely on television more than I care to admit to appease my ornery, cooped up toddler. And don't go judging me, okay? The math on entertaining a 2-year-old is that your child will spend approximately one-eighth of the time it took you to set up a developmentally worthwhile activity actually enjoying it. Once you've played, colored, eaten a meal and a snack, and completed a fifth reading of a book that mainly requires that you bark like a dog, and you're still two hours from naptime, come on. It's TV time.
This should be my savior, and in many ways it is. But due to the layout of my home and the fact that my daughter won't let me walk ten feet from her without begging me to "come with us," I must sit and endure children's programming with her. And let me tell you, it is messed up. And the older she gets, the more she feels the need to break away from the more wholesome, nostalgic options I attempt to push on her. Currently, here are the shows she begs me to let her watch. Soon, someone will walk in to find us both lying in a pile of grey matter on the bed, babbling about maps and monkeys. Just leave us until the spring thaw.
1. Dora the Explorer. Of course, the ubiquitous, much beloved Dora. This is a cartoon about a six-year-old girl who lives in South America (I think?) and who spends her days running through the rainforest with no adult supervision whatsoever, accompanied only by a monkey with an obsessive attachment to a pair of boots. She travels with no equipment except for an anthropomorphic backpack which contains everything from grappling hooks to water skis to vacuum cleaners, plus the trapped souls of an ancient Mayan village. They spend a lot of time rescuing animals who behave like animals, except that the monkey's father (who is also a monkey) is an architect who designs roller coasters. Their designated driver is a squirrel who has access to a shocking variety of vehicles, including an old timey airplane which he flew to the South Pole (although it was the iguana who was in possession of the rocket ship that took them into space).
2. Bubble Guppies. Little mer-children attend school and learn about valuable topics like "eating lunch," "how to make up a nonsense sport using a soccer ball and a small school of fish," and "getting your hair cut for picture day." Despite the fact that they live on the ocean floor, they eat cheese pizza and fresh vegetables and can see the moon and dribble basketballs.
3. The Backyardigans. Honestly, I couldn't even tell you. A bunch of unrelated animals and/or alien-monsters spend their days in a wide range of settings, performing pretty adult tasks. They're robot repairmen, Santa Claus special forces, and ghost hunters. Are they playing pretend? Unclear. The songs are catchy, yet frequently six or seven stanzas too long.
4. Tumble Leaf. A new Amazon Prime original. Actually, this one isn't so bad in the sense that it's wholesome and quiet, involves zero singing, and the animation is pretty. However, the premise is troubling: a young fox lives in an old shipwreck on an island somewhere, with no parents and only a caterpillar who lives in a holster on his sleeve to serve as compass and company. A family of chickens lives above deck and prepares his meals for him, although they are all disturbingly obese and likely not long for this world.
5. Team Umizoomi. Two Japanamation characters, their robot friend, and an anthropomorphic car live in Umi City, a buzzing metropolis inhabited by a happy mix of animated characters and live action human children with a bad habit of overacting. The Team is very tiny, yet the posses the limitless powers of math so they run around fixing problems and rescuing their friends from peril. The boy Umizoomi is great with shapes and building, while the girl has . . . uh . . . "pattern power," a skill which allows her to use her outfit to identify and correct mistakes in simple patterns. No, seriously. Her outfit.
Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!
