Seems like a child's love of words and reading would be any mother's dream (especially a mother who's a writer), but I found myself getting annoyed with her literary habit. Sitting there cross-legged on the floor, my legs getting numb, reading "Green Eggs And Ham" ad infinitum, I began to resent my child. I was held prisoner by her reading addiction, and couldn't even sneak away for a shower or cup of coffee, because she'd inevitably follow me whining, "More, Mama!" ("The Very Hungry Caterpillar" in her hand).

Desperate one day, I took the cellophane wrapper off the Baby Einstein DVD a friend had given me at my baby shower. At the time, in all my prenatal wisdom, I had shelved the gift, insisting self-righteously to Kris that our kids would not be babysat by the TV. I quoted the latest American Academy of Pediatrics studies that show a link between too much screen time and conditions like ADD and below-average IQs.

But those arguments waned in light of the fact I hadn't washed my hair or checked my email in days. So, out came "Baby Mozart." I piled a few pillows like a nest in front of the TV, plopped Bronwynn down in the middle, handed her a bowl of sliced bananas, pressed "play," and then sat back and dusted off my laptop, ready for 30 minutes of uninterrupted bliss.

She sat there enthralled for about 2 minutes, until the bananas were gone, and then was standing in front of me, waving another book in my face.

...So began my quest to find something, anything (correction: anything short of Barney) she would watch zombie-like for 30 minutes or more. We walked back and forth to the library and checked out various preschool DVDs. Each time I scanned a new title with my library card, I felt a pang of guilt. Why can't I just celebrate the fact that my kid dislikes television?

I'd rationalize: We're only watching this because it's snowing outside. Or because you're sick. Or, because I'm sick.

In the end, I found the right DVD (a peppy sign-language how-to flick), and some sanity. I also discovered that I'd been wrong to demonize television, that having 30 minutes of peace and quiet each morning actually makes me a more engaged, happier (and better-smelling) mom. What's more, my daughter learned a few things from TV that you can't from books--like how to sign for "bath" and sing her ABCs (though, when B sings her ABCs, it sounds like "B-C-B-C-C-C-B-D-C-D-C-B-B-C...").

The books still get plenty of attention--before naps, after naps, before bed... and in the mornings, after the TV is shut off.

Submitted by TheDailyB (view blog)