In The Blog Garden

It's not often that the worlds of children's TV and beauty blogs collide, but collide they must, so I hope you can indulge me for just a minute, I feel so compelled to write this down...

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Behold the madness that regularly inhabits my TV screen, and meet Iggle Piggle, Upsy Daisy, Makka Pakka and the Tombliboos. "I beg your pardon?!", I hear you say. Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me, where are my manners? Let me also introduce the Ninky Nonk, Pinky Ponk and Tittifers. Better? No?! How about the Pontipines and Wottingers, and who can forget the Haahoo's? Seriously, you're not getting this? Oh wait...right...yes, that's because I'm talking the nonsensical, incomprehensible language of In The Night Garden.

Many people will remember their 'first time', where they were and who they were with when something cataclysmic and life changing occurred. Well, the very first time that I watched In The Night Garden I was sat cross legged on my lounge floor, with Jamie sat on Colin's knees beside me. I stared, open mouthed {quite literally}, in mock horror as the 30 minute episode unfolded in front of my disbelieving eyes. Who were these strange creatures, what on earth were they doing and why oh why were we watching this?! I admit, I was most 'taken' by Makka Pakka, an odd little fellow with a penchant for stones, displaying particularly OCD tendencies with his need for them to be arranged in piles of 3. I mean, the little dude goes to sleep cuddling a stone...I digress. From that very first moment, it was clear Jamie was hooked, and I shot Colin a slightly scathing look that clearly said "what have you started?".

There is no denying that children's TV has its benefits, the majority of the time it's stimulating and educational. In fact, I think I can {begrudgingly} attribute Jamie's new found skill of nodding to In The Night Garden. However, that doesn't make it any easier for the unassuming adults who suddenly find themselves immersed in the land of CBeebies {other kids channels are available!}. I admit, I limit Jamie's TV time, but perhaps more for my own benefit than his. I fear that more than an hour of Waybuloos, Special Agent Oso or The Tweenies, and my brain would actually malfunction. The disturbingly high pitched voices, incessant overly enthusiastic demeanours and almost constant singing becomes somewhat nauseating and headache inducing. Not to mention the melancholy realisation that occurs when I realise that, yet again, I'm happily humming various theme tunes...sans Jamie. It's not cool folks, not cool.

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As I type, Jamie is currently captivated by the quite frankly horrifying spectacle that is Baby Jake. There's an odd expression of wonderment and confusion on his scrumptious little face, that gives me the impression he's thinking the same as me: what on earth is this?! It's both weirdly compelling and terrifying viewing in one go.

  A quick look at the dedicated website will often quickly and simply explain the programme for parents/carers who, like me, have become lost in the madness. The purpose and developmental benefits, when written down {not in black and white you understand, but bright and bold colours} seem so obvious. I suppose that's the point, the programmes aren't supposed to make sense to me, as long as they thrill and help Jamie. Besides, I'd rather he watched Mr Tumble than Jeremy Kyle!

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Now, if you'll excuse me I'm off to watch Peppa Pig snuggled under a soft blanket with Jamie. Just don't tell anyone that I actually enjoy it...

Please tell me I'm not the only person out there lost in this crazy world?!

Disclaimer: For what it's worth, I am not affiliated with any of the programmes, characters or channels mentioned in this blog post. This is just 19 months of pent up awe/horror/confusion regarding the world of children's television.