I hesitate to write anything this month.  It has just been one of those months that has left me feeling like not much of a dad.  My schedule lately has meant that—during the week at least—the only waking hours I spend at home involve getting ready to leave again.  As I write this, I haven’t seen my kids for 5 days, except for the brief hug goodbye if they happen to be awake in the morning when I leave for work.  They are almost always asleep when I get home.

Last Saturday, after rehearsal, I had to drive out to my parent’s house to pick up a bed they were getting rid of.  I asked my 7-year-old son if he wanted to go with me.  He jumped at the chance even though it meant sitting through a long, boring, 4 hour rehearsal.

At the rehearsal, he didn’t get to do too much other than sit and watch, draw and play on his GameBoy.  And then we drove out to my parents, loaded the bed into my truck, talked to Grandma and Grandpa for a while and then went home.

Nothing really meaningful or especially memorable happened, but I absolutely loved that time we spent together.  Even though it was not the most exciting of days, I would do it again in a heart beat.  Just to spend time with him was wonderful.

Perhaps that’s the lesson.  There are a series of commercials from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints where the tag line is something along the lines of, “Family… It’s About Time.” Maybe the actual activity doesn’t really matter as long as time is spent with our children.  Sure those days at the baseball game, or playing board games, or reading stories are great quality moments.  But during those times in our lives where we feel we are stretched a bit too thin and finding time to play or read is like trying to find the proverbial needle in the haystack, maybe we can simply include our kids into our activities when possible.  Even though that time spent together doing errands or chores aren’t the stuff of exciting memories, it is still valuable time spent together.

I don’t know if my son enjoyed that day as much as I did.  I don’t know if my own father felt the same way when I would tag along on trips to cut firewood or trips to where he worked because he had to follow up on something.  But I loved those little trips with my dad.  And I enjoyed this one with my son.

Once I was Dorothy the Dinosaur for a couple of months (as I have described elsewhere).  More recently I was “Tyrone” while my son would answer only to “Pablo”.

Provoking role play is just one of the effects children’s TV has had on our lives.  We don’t watch a lot of TV (children’s programming or otherwise), but once in a while the Bünj’ gets hooked on a few shows.  While limiting the TV time, my wife and I don’t protest, and then he moves to other interests after a couple of weeks.

I wouldn’t want the Bünj’ to watch a lot of TV, but I do think he’s learned some things from it.  He’s learned some Spanish from the Wiggles and Dora.  From Blue and Steve, he learned some sign language and about musical notes on a staff, and so on.  I think children’s TV kind of annoys a lot of parents, but I kind of like it.  And, you know, I’ve really gained a lot from it, too.

Here are just a few of the things I’ve learned:

Most animals can talk.  With dogs, though, it’s a crapshoot.  This anomaly has a long history.  Goofy can talk; Pluto can’t.  Astro and Scooby-Doo can almost talk in a kind of a “r-r-r-rur-rur” sort of way.  Blue ("Blue’s Clues") speaks only “bow-bow-b-b-bow.” Steve and Joe understand this without error.  Me: not so much.  Of course, Blue’s situation changes entirely when she goes into “Blue’s Room,” where she can speak without impediment (albeit in that annoying sing-song-y voice).  In the same venue, not only can Blue speak, but so can the toys and the furniture . . . well . . . some of them.  Let’s not split hairs.

That observation, however, does bring up the topic of objects formerly know as inanimate: side tables, clocks, soap, pails, shovels, backpacks, cameras, etc.  Another chancey area: some talk, some don’t.  But Steve, Dora, Diego, and the like, know just which ones are verbal and which aren’t.  They never walk up to a random sidewalk, ask, “Excuse me, may I walk on you,” get no response, and conclude, ”Huh. Well, I guess this one can’t talk.”

So far, life sounds complicated, but it’s really not.  Yes, there are problems: animals in distress, lost objects, homesick neighbors, etc.  Nevertheless, these problems can usually be solved by making it through a sequence of 3 simple steps: finding three clues, going to three places (the red path, the noisy jungle, the snowy mountain), etc.

Of course, you can’t solve problems without testing your skills and knowledge.  Here’s how your abilities will be tested.  You will have to answer questions — multiple-choice questions with one plausible answer and one ridiculous answer.  Example: How do wolves ‘talk’ to each other?  Do they howl or call each other on the telephone?

Finally, I’ve learned about good and evil.  There are people (or creatures) out there who do bad things:  Swiper the Fox, Dr. Shrinky, Yucky Man, the Bobos, whoever sends monkeys alone into space, etc.  How do you overcome these forces-for-bad?  Usually, you confront the offender(s) face-to-face and tell him to stop doing what he’s been doing. Sometimes, the culprit will not relent and will take one of your valuable personal effects and throw it really far.  Now you have trouble, but it’s not insurmountable.  See “3 easy steps,” above.

Often they or he will realize their folly, stop and say, “Oops, sorry,” or, less repentantly, “Oh, MAN!”

Once every thing is set to rights (and along “the journey” as well) there is music.  It’s not always a Mexican combo’ consisting of a grasshopper, a frog, and a snail, but there is always music.

So, that’s just some of what Nick, Jr. has done for me.  Some would call these kids shows a nuisance.  I say they are wisdom for the masses.