Friday. I’m in my office reading about Jean Gross, “Communications Champion” for kids, who says that toddlers are talking later – probably because kids watch too much TV, and their parents are too busy / stressed / lazy to give face time. “Ugh,” I reflect, “this is advice for bad parents. Not me.”
Then I reflect that Iris (29 months) has had the TV on all morning. During which time I’ve been working. I say “working”. Actually I’ve done e-mails, I’ve worried about a comedy gig next week, I’ve fretted about whether I offended Tash in the playground this morning. “OK Jean Gross,” I think, “you may have a point.” I go next door.
In the kitchen, my wife is talking under her breath, mentally preparing for a phonecall. Nearby, Iris is examining cards from a Princess Memory Game. “I got cards,” she announces. See, I think, she’s talking fine. She’s learning fine. Then she puts two cards in her mouth. Then she gives them to me. “Tarnij,” she says. I pause. She thrusts them in my face. “Oh! Sandwich!” I say. “Tarnij,” she corrects.
Then Mum’s phone call arrives. Immediately Iris gets up, and goes to the living room. On TV, a wonderful sight appears: a sheep dancing towards the camera singing “Timmy! It’s Timmy!” to jaunty music. Iris dances in delight. I say: “Jean Gross says no TV,” and turn it off.
Iris screams and runs for mum. But Mum’s still on the phone. “Can you watch her?” she asks, hurrying away. I pick up Iris. We have some face time, during which she kicks me repeatedly in the chest. I try to resume our game with the cards, but she screams. She doesn’t want a tarnij now. She wants a dancing sheep.
Mum returns, and settles Iris by reading a book. I’m now tenser than ever. I’ll go for a run, I think, and go and change. When I reappear, Iris beams at me. “What you doing?” she says. “I’m going for a run.” “What you doing?” she says. “Going to the park.” “What you doing?” she says. “Tying my shoes so I can run to the park.” Grinning, she asks the same question another eleven times. She likes this game. I like it too. It’s forcing me to some something I’ve avoided all morning: to be in the moment. “What you doing?” she says for the twelfth time. “I’m talking to you,” I say. “Want tarnij?” she says. I say: “Yes!”
Eating my tarnij, I realise I’m not tense any more. I cancel the run, and play for a bit. Then I work calmly through my tasks, and only afterwards do I think about Jean Gross. I have to conclude she’s right. TV does cause trouble. And it is good to have face time with children. But it’s not just them who benefit. It’s you.