When Georgia was a wee newborn, Hova rented us a movie. We got the popcorn ready, climbed upstairs to our attic TV/guest room, got the baby snuggled up, and turned on the video. About 20 minutes into the movie, when John Goodman is escaping from jail, squeezing through something of a muddy, mucky birth tunnel, I flipped out, crying and begging Hova to turn it off. Too loud! Too hectic! Too birthlike! Too much kidnapping! It was not the brainless respite I had expected.

We still haven’t seen Raising Arizona [1].

But we did still tape and watch "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer" [2] (the things I admit in public!). And though we never watched while Georgia was awake, even in those early months, every time the Buffster dusted a vamp with a snappy comeback, or the demons eviscerated victim after victim, I worried that the sounds of violence, snarkiness, violence, sarcasm, and violence would get into her head. And I didn’t want it to be a part of her consciousness.

So TV just became something we did less and less. Hova and I lived without a TV in New York for years, so we didn’t miss it that much. And it wasn’t an issue for Georgia until she was 6 months old and started coming to work with me. I worked in my boss’ home, and she watched TV during her lunch break. Georgia was fascinated. And as Georgia then got older and needed much more attention, my boss suggested turning it on for her. And some of the shows actually didn’t seem too bad, some very clever and cute, and I thought it couldn’t hurt. So I began turning a show on for her even when my boss wasn’t there, when I had just a few more things to do and G’s tolerance of me working was running low. It was a useful electronic babysitter for me, and I justified it.

She never sat through more than an hour. We never felt the need to watch TV at home. I was smugly appalled by a neighbor’s playroom, complete with a massive television and insipid videos of toys dancing to classical music. This was supposed to turn your child into a genius? I wasn’t going to fall for that marketing scheme. Only intelligent, attractive, creative educational television for my pre-verbal miss. Oobi, Little Bear, and Maisy met my criteria, and I was quick to turn off anything too branded, or anything that looked like an ad. I didn’t want Georgia’s mind to be ad bait!

I should probably admit that I used to produce music for television commercials so I might be more suspicious about what the commercials are trying to do — how they are trying to make you feel like you need to buy something to make your life complete. Ads can be hilarious and clever and evocative or touching, but they are always trying to get to the place inside you and, most insidiously, inside your kids, where there is a need to feel happier, healthier, stronger, smarter, cuter. And that need can only be filled, according to the ads, by buying. Kids (and adults) who aren’t taught to negotiate this barrage can succumb to a frenzy of false need. I knew all that, so I didn’t think some occasional, non-commercial TV time would be a big deal.

Then we moved to Portland and my consciousness was raised, or more accurately, I got browbeaten for letting Georgia watch TV. Sometimes when we really needed to get something accomplished, or when she was just too tired for stories but we didn’t want her going to sleep, we’d get out the Pee Wee’s Playhouse [3] videos. At first we watched with her and pushed pause to explain confusing things, and helped her negotiate that TV is not real. We felt like it was important to teach her HOW to watch TV — and just like anything else she might encounter at that age, we wanted to be able to ease her into it. But at a parenting seminar there was a lot of talk about flat brain waves and squashing creativity and growing up in a zombiefied state. We were bad parents, playing with our daughter’s mind in irreparable ways. We felt awful, so we checked it out.

The research [4] is downright creepy, if somewhat feeble. I certainly don’t trust the TV industry, but sometimes those anti-TV folks [5] get in such a snit that I feel like they need a time out. [6] I think most parents are doing the best they can, and with the geniuses cleverly marketing “educational” videos for babies, it can be a confusing world out there in the toy store. So here: the American Academy of Pediatrics [7] recommends no more than two hours a day of educational, non-violent television for children, and no TV for babies under two years old. Watch TV with your kids, and help them resist commercials. We did most of that instinctually, and she doesn’t watch daily, but what about those times before she was even a year old?

We decided that if she was dumbed down by any of that early TV watching we’re probably lucky. Considering she continually kicks our intellectual butts all over the parking lot, if her brain waves were any bouncier we’d be in deep trouble. We watch only DVDs and videos. Since we only have one station that’s in a constant snowstorm we don’t have to deal too much with ads, but she will someday, and I want her to know what they are about. During the promos at the beginning of DVDs she says, “You silly ad, you can’t make me watch something I don’t want to watch!” and we skip them. She loves books almost more than candy, and will play orphan baby babirusa pig [8] for hours with two sticks and a pinecone. So I don’t think her intelligence has been compromised or that her imagination is stunted. Teaching Georgia how to watch TV, and us using TV as a tool and a treat, or even a break feels like a more realistic approach to the TV problem. I don’t want to keep her away from technology, but I want her to see, as with everything, just because it’s there doesn’t mean she has to buy it.