Before I start this column, let me just tell you about a crazy dream I had the other night. Only joking … I know that nobody wants to hear about someone else’s dream. I’m fully versed in the words of 1980s poet and philosopher Pauline Mole, who said: “There’s only one thing more boring than listening to other people’s dreams, and that’s listening to their problems.” But without wanting to cast doubt on Pauline’s sagacity, she undoubtedly neglected to mention that there is another thing even more boring than other people’s dreams. And that’s listening to other people’s baby stories.
I know this because I watched some episodes of Parenting For Idiots (Thursdays, 10pm, Channel 4), which consists of nothing but a relentless barrage of celebrity talking heads telling us how baby poo goes everywhere (who knew?) and that – no! Never! – toddlers can be hard work. To summarise last week’s opening episode: “My baby shat on a table.” “My baby shat on my shoes.” “My baby shat in the bath.” Again and again. And again.
This week, we learn that Lauren Laverne does not enjoy the Thomas The Tank Engine theme, Will Mellor finds his kid’s homework difficult and Jonathan Ross once found another kid’s nappy in a ballpit. And these are the anecdotes that have a conclusion; half of them fizzle out as if nobody could locate the energy to finish the damn things. “If you’re a mother you cannot get the work thing right,” says Katherine Ryan. “If you’re a stay-at-home mum then you’re not a great role model, and if you’re a working mum then you’re not a great mum. You might as well … I don’t know what you should do.” Did this not go through an editing process?
You’re left relying on Danny Dyer to save the day: “Fucking ridiculous, I can’t get my nut around it,” is how he regards his daughter’s homework, which apparently required her to name seven different magnets. “There’s only one – a fridge magnet. It’s bollocks.” If nothing else, it suggests that he’s not quite fully transitioned into his new role of direct descendant of King Edward III.
Listen to the talking heads on Parenting For Idiots – and I would only advise obliging if you’re being paid handsomely by the Guardian Guide to do so – and you’ll be told that there’s nothing more boring than taking your kids to singing groups (Sally Phillips), netball (Freddie Flintoff) or swimming lessons (Sarah Beeny). But the evidence suggests that there is. And that’s listening to Sally Phillips, Freddie Flintoff and Sarah Beeny telling you about it.
Look, I have to be honest, part of the reason I found this show so unnerving is because I’ve spent the past six months recounting similar tales about my own newborn. I recognise these stories. I’ve told them to friends and family. When they smiled and nodded, were they faking it? Did they regard me much as I regard Jamelia telling me about her child’s feeding routine? Is this actually a TV show meant for broadcast or rather a Clockwork Orange-style punishment devised by my acquaintances as the only way to shut me up?
Certainly I considered never talking about my daughter ever again after watching it. Until I checked and realised that, unlike all the children on Parenting For Idiots, my girl is funny, charming and unique. Did I tell you about the time she shat up the bedroom wall?
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