After more than 40 years of wandering in the vast wasteland, some parents have decided to make the TV set a controlled substance in their homes. I am one of them.
But it's a workout. Pulling the average American child away from just a few of their 1,680 minutes of weekly television viewing burns as many calories as one Pilates session.
And since the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends limiting children's television viewing to two hours of quality programming a day, parents get hit head on with more headaches:
I limited TV viewing to one hour for my children on the week days, and I didn't let them watch certain inappropriate shows. I kept a large selection of kid-tested, mother-approved videos and DVDs on hand as an alternative to poor programming. They complained, envied their friends' freedoms and to this day, that epic of family history is retold with the bitterness of slavery.
One of their favorite approved movies was the 1956 version of "The Ten Commandments" with Charlton Heston when he was hot. (Holy Moses, Cecil B. DeMille knew how to deliver a savior.)
The kids still repeat lines from that movie. Many a time I've asked for a favor only to hear, "You've croaked your last time, old frog." (The beautiful princess of Egypt delivers this line just before she pushes her faithful servant out the window.)
And careful selection of your own TV viewing material isn't always safe. My kids knew Ramses as the King of Egypt. My daughter's eye caught an adult product behind the prescription counter with the same moniker.
"Mommy, what are those things named after the King of Egypt?"
"They're for big people."
"But what are they used for?"
"Uh, huh. Yes... Would you like some candy? Look at those toys over there. Did I tell you we're going to Disneyland when you graduate from high school?"
When I asked if the pharmacist if her medicine had to be taken with food he answered, "So it is written." We made a quick exodus.
Of course there were the days when my viewing laws were looser. Weekends, sick days, and on special events I allowed extra tube time. More program choices were added as the children got older.
To further safeguard against raising a chain of fools, I subjected my little subjects to the rigors of trips to museums and places of interest. They treated me like I had the plague, but with the promise of a stop to the Gift Shop, they soon they were soon engaged in learning, whether they knew it or not.
These "trips" made for a lot of clutter but surprisingly, the historical knick knacks came in handy for school projects. I once tried to talk my son into using his set of Civil War soldiers on his sister's volcano but he wouldn't go for it. He played with them on the floor for years. My husband has a permanent impression of a canon on his left foot.
As a result of my cruel supervision, my captive audience developed an appreciation for all types of music, large vocabularies from exposure to the classics, know more historical facts than most adults, saving them from any possible shameful appearance on Leno's Jaywalking segments, and they can beat anyone in Disney Trivia. (It's important to be well rounded.)
But what do the children think of my masterful guidance?
After taking her SATs and joking that she knew some words on the test because of the "selected" movies she watched as a kid, my daughter remarked, "It's almost like Mom thought about it." Doh!
