Oh, Dora

I think we’ve spiraled out of control with Dora the Explorer.  On the one hand, it’s increased Eva’s vocabulary and has helped her to understand succession.  Dora has also taught Eva how to discern the number of objects in a group without counting out loud.  She now knows a handful of Spanish phrases and words.  Every morning Eva bursts into my bedroom and shouts, “Buenos Dias!  I found you!”  I think it’s adorable.  These things makes me feel like letting Eva watch Dora is actually an investment in her education and not just a waste of time.  Therefore, I shouldn’t feel guilty about how much TV she has been absorbing lately. 

I’m also very delighted that the promise of Dora will make Eva do anything.  And I mean anything.  She cleaned up her bedroom and the living room without squawking when I told her she could watch Dora.  She’ll get dressed in a flash and sit quietly while I comb her hair.  She’ll give me a kiss and a big hug.  I’m actually a little worried about how strong of a motivator it is for Eva.  Shouldn’t she want to pick up her toys just for the intrinsic satisfaction of cleaning up her own messes?  Should she not crave making messes in the first place and take pride in being a tidy child?

These are very positive aftershocks of Dora.  However, there are a lot of negatives lurking about also.  I can’t stand Dora’s shrill voice.  No matter how quiet the volume on the TV is, I feel like her voice is clawing at my brain.  I recently had to carry Eva out of a public place while she was kicking and screaming.  She drew even more judging eyes our direction by shouting, “Abajo!  Abajo!  Abajo!”  It was a very weird fit.  This morning Eva called me a sleepy sloth.  I was offended and knew Dora was the culprit; the little jerk. 

There’s a long ramp leading up to the side door at the YMCA and Eva insists on going “arriba” every time we walk by.  She runs up and down, up and down, up and down while I stand there losing my desire to workout.  Every stinking day.  Eva also wants to run through the covered parking area that she calls the twisty tunnel.  Dora has added at least 10 minutes to my commute time from the car to the YMCA entrance.  It’s maddening. 

Eva will also cry and have a spastic episode whenever I shut Dora off.  It doesn't matter how long she’s been sitting in front of the TV drooling, she’ll freak out when I say time is up.  She can never satisfy her need for Dora.  I’ll turn it on for her while I do my chores and suddenly it’s afternoon and Eva is still in her pajamas.  It’s a terrible crutch.

    

The reality is that I can never get rid of Dora now.  She’s weaseled herself into our family and I have no choice but to accept my destiny.  I must embrace Dora the Explorer. 

It’s too bad you can’t strangle a cartoon.