Mum On A Roll: a fortnightly column by Sujatha Rajagopal
Sujatha Rajagopal, work-at-home-mum to 4-year-old Ajay, describes how cutting back on the idiot box turned out to be one of the best parenting decisions she has made.
“After just a few weeks, I had a brand-new child!”
Just the other day, a good friend sent me an e-pat-on-the-back after reading a previous MumCentre article I wrote about deciding to work from home. Her e-mail said: “You’ve mentioned it to me before. But actually reading about your decision to quit made me realise just how passionate you were about spending more time with Ajay.” Being a good friend however, she was brutally honest, including this piece of constructive criticism, “But you made it sound too easy, Suj!”
She was right, of course. Quitting a full-time job you love—and the comfort of a juicy pay check that comes in like clockwork when you need it most—is never easy. And to convince a boss or client to keep you on their payroll while you work from home, you have to be darn disciplined about delivering on time, every time.
Knowing about my almost religious obsession for honouring deadlines, my friend thought I hadn’t given the full picture about how I had managed to keep a boisterous two-year-old like Ajay occupied in the meantime.
So here’s the cold, hard truth. My son’s babysitter during those initial days of setting up my home office wasn’t a paid nanny or loving grandparent but our loyal Mr. Phillips. All 28 inches of him. My boy’s most impressionable moments were spent before a flatscreen, featuring an unnaturally cheerful purple dinosaur and musical muppet monsters. What’s worse, I would shut myself in a study while this went on, leaving him in the living room with his toys and the TV. Then and again, I would peek on him to ensure he was okay. Yes, it was despicable. Loathing myself every night afterward, I would wonder why I had quit when so much of my time was spent away from my child anyway. The irony was so thick. And I was suffocating my own child with it.
After much soul-searching, I decided to delay my dream to build a thriving writing consultancy. I could always return to working longer hours but Ajay wasn’t going to be young for long. I cut down his TV hours. I fixed an affordable half-day care plan with a nearby childcare centre so that Ajay’s mornings could be spent more productively. I swore to myself that even if I had to stay up till 3am every day to keep to deadlines, I would spend entire afternoons and evenings being there for him.
Seeing the neon light
Perhaps it was because he watched less TV. Perhaps it was just my being there more often. But wonder of all wonders, after just a few weeks of setting TV curfews, I had a brand-new child!
You see, I had previously resigned myself to accepting that Ajay wasn’t an easy child to bring up. From the time he was about a year old, he would throw the most ear-piercing tantrums. He was stubborn, difficult, and very strong for his age and calming him down would just take the wind out of his father and me. But after cutting down on TV and spending quality time with him, we found a very significant change in Ajay. He was eating better, smiling more, sleeping better and being a generally better-behaved child. As for me, I liked myself so much better and felt as if a pressing weight on my heart had been lifted for good.
Ajay still got to watch some of his favourite programmes but his TV time was definitely more controlled. Whenever we could, we’d cut it out altogether, turning on instead the radio or CD player or developmentally-appropriate software on the computer.
Sustaining the rewards
Now that Ajay is four, I am getting a little better at managing deadlines while also spending time with him. Not that it’s all that easier. Like every four-year-old, Ajay is an excellent negotiator when it comes to watching TV. Sometimes I let him have his way, especially if he has earned it. But being a bright sponge, he doesn’t need long to soak-up taboo words or actions from watching The Simpsons or My Wife & Kids (these count among his favourites now). Or begin clamouring for a new toy or snack thanks to persuasive advertisements.
The difference is that now, I am always there to tell him right from wrong. Having become an expert film censor, I have a trick of getting him to look elsewhere when something inappropriate threatens to appear on screen. Fortunately for now, he still falls for my ploys.
More often, I am pretty firm about what’s okay and what’s not. Thanks to two years of experience, he knows that when I say no more TV, I mean it.
However, I’ve also realised that some shows are worth watching. So I try to create a balance between the cartoons and sitcoms he likes and the documentaries, cooking shows and DIY programmes I think will help develop his mind.
Cutting down on TV has also made Ajay an early reader and budding typist. He regularly types short letters on the PC to relatives around the world, mostly without help, a habit that has improved his spelling prowess too. And despite being an extremely house-proud mum, I have learnt to stop cringing when he dumps an armload of Dr. Seuss’s on the rug every morning because I know that for the next hour, he isn’t going to want to watch any TV.
I must admit, sometimes I am sorely tempted. Why not just switch it on? It’ll give you some peace. It’ll help you finish an article or some chores. After all it’s free. It makes Ajay laugh.
Luckily, I have always found a way to turn that voice off. In the battle between mum and media, this mum is happily, winning.
