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In early March 2020, I rushed home, flustered, to tend to my sick 3-year-old, only to trip and twist my ankle in the driveway. After a visit to urgent care, my child and I found ourselves glued to the couch the next day, absorbed in Peppa Pig. As I watched Mummy Pig parachute from a plane to fundraise for a school roof, I thought, “How much more of this absurdity can I handle?” Fast forward a few weeks into lockdown, and I was immensely grateful for that quirky little pig.
Millennial parents often grapple with the issue of screen time, especially considering many of us grew up immersed in television (including those pesky commercials). With screens popping up everywhere—from billboards to refrigerator magnets—the debate over screen time intensified, especially when the lockdowns hit. One parenting expert, who had once championed screen time moderation, even published an apology in The New York Times to those she had previously made feel guilty.
Yet, when I reflect on my child’s favorite shows, I feel not guilt or anxiety but a wave of gratitude. I genuinely believe I wouldn’t have survived lockdown without Peppa, Paw Patrol, and shows like PJ Masks, Frozen, and Frozen II.
This period sparked a reevaluation of these shows for me. I’ve grown to appreciate them for what they are: a heartfelt shoutout to the Kratt Brothers’ wholesome animal explanations, a salute to the creators of “Donkey Hodie” and his windmill sidekick “Purple Panda,” and a huge thank you to the brilliant minds behind Encanto. Seriously, never stop creating!
You could call this Stockholm Syndrome, and perhaps it fits. For weeks, Peppa was not just my child’s favorite but also my constant companion. My memories of lockdown are forever tied to that catchy theme song, which is likely to echo in my mind until my last breath—right alongside Paw Patrol and PJ Masks.
Of course, there are elements to critique: Peppa’s notorious brattiness and the puzzling way the characters discuss Daddy Pig’s belly, as well as the overwhelming array of gear in Paw Patrol, clearly designed to sell toys. I still shudder at the odd days of Little Baby Bum.
Yet, there’s so much to love. As I write this, I can hear the distant sounds of Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures, a new series where Barbie takes on the role of a vlogger. Who better to take on babysitting than a doll known for her countless careers? In one hilarious episode, Barbie wakes up to find herself as Mayor Barbie, dealing with a crisis alongside Scientist Barbie and Engineer Barbie. My now-5-year-old might miss the humor, but I find it laugh-out-loud funny. The creators of these shows clearly know parents are part of the audience and often wink in our direction. I think of the Peppa episode featuring the “glitter containment incident” every time I discover stray glitter in my home.
I don’t even need that playful nod to parents to enjoy these shows. I’ve recently taken a liking to Marvel Rising, which showcases young superheroes in Jersey City. Sometimes, I find myself wishing I could binge-watch the series on my own instead of following my child’s whims. I look forward to the day when I’m at a bar chatting with colleagues about Squirrel Girl. The trade-off is occasionally arguing with a preschooler over which show to watch on pizza night. I desperately want to introduce my child to Bluey, a show that parents rave about like it’s the latest prestige drama. We’re missing out on a cultural phenomenon, and she doesn’t even care!
Part of me wishes I were one of those endlessly creative, always available moms, brimming with craft projects and enriching activities. But that mother is a fantasy—an impossible standard to uphold. Sometimes, I just need time to shower, or there’s a snowstorm, yet I still need to work to provide for my child. Occasionally, I need a Saturday morning to sip three cups of coffee and scroll through the news, or take two hours to read in another room while half-listening for chaos. And, at the risk of sounding like a vintage housewife endorsing a soap brand—Calgon, take me away!—sometimes it’s Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures that gives me that breather. Is it educational? Not really. Do I care? Not particularly! Not everything needs to be enriching. Sometimes, it’s simply nice to lounge on the couch and enjoy some good laughs.
Jamie Thompson is the executive editor at Home Insemination Kit, where she oversees freelance contributions. If you have a story to share, reach out! Previously, Jamie worked at a well-known media outlet, focusing on lifestyle and parenting topics. Growing up in a small town, she has a lot of questions about the world of children’s cartoons.
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In summary, my child’s cartoons have not only kept us entertained during lockdown but also provided moments of laughter and connection. While screen time may spark debate, these shows have become cherished parts of our daily lives, proving that sometimes, a bit of silliness is just what we need.