Here is me being honest. I am one of "THOSE" moms. PBS Kids helped me raise my babies. In fact, so much that I probably should claim PBS on my taxes, naming them as my childcare provider. It all started as a casual fling, the occasional viewing of Clifford the Big Red Dog and a quick snippet of Sesame Street but then it morphed into so much more. Do you know why? Because my babies actually stopped fussing and crying and watched it. This allowed me to pass out on the couch next to them for that mouth open, drooling, deep coma sleep. I always hated it when the program ended so I would then try and justify one more episode, much like an addict. It became so very easy to just flip on the TV and let the kids zone out on the programs that often I would be horrified to check the time and find it was noon. Mind you, I had turned on creepy Teletubbies at 7am. The problem was I found I was getting stuff done and the longer they watched, the more I caught up on much needed sleep or work. I used PBS almost exclusively as my childcare provider when I was baking at home for my cake business. I always drew the line at Dragon Tales, however. At the time in my post natal state, I felt Dragon Tales represented something mystical and magical and was infiltrating the minds of my young babies with fluff and evil magic. Because of course I had to keep my ethics and morals in check! The day I let them watch a whole episode will live in infamy. I had crossed the line and there was no going back. Then, darn it all, the kids started learning stuff. Like cool stuff. Like Spanish, their ABCs, numbers and shapes, healthy foods, their manners and how to treat friends. I thought I was home free. Why should I try and teach them when PBS was doing a most excellent job at it? But then, guilt mom set in and I would turn it off and drag out the huge floor puzzles we would do every. single. day. many. times. over. I would amuse myself by eating the huge pound plus chocolate bars from Trader Joes for lunch as the kids and I decided which puzzle piece went where. After the floor puzzles came Spanish Bingo and Dr. Seuss books. By then 3pm would roll around, the chocolate bar long finished and I would jump for joy when I saw that another episode of Clifford was coming up. My attention span was that of a 5 year old myself so I too, looked forward to something I didn't have to concentrate on. The day finally arrived when we were watching and the screen went to static. It was official. The cable had been turned off, purposely, in an effort to be budget conscious. Unfortunately we didn't own rabbit ears. Life as we knew it suddenly looked very bleak. However, like any good mama would, I had prepared for the worst because no sooner than the cable went out did the DVD player and Clifford discs get plugged in. In my defense, I will say that my kids are learning to speak Spanish, are pulling A's and B's, can figure out Algebra, can quote authors and books, can write the most amazing stories, inhale cookies like Cookie Monster AND, the biggest achievement of all, imitate Bert and Ernie like bad asses.