Is family time becoming a relic of the past in our on-demand, always-connected world? A friend recently asked me about her kids’ screen time, and it made me reflect on our own family’s habits. After detailing our meticulously negotiated screen-time rules for our teenagers – a saga worthy of its own TV drama – I confessed something perhaps unexpected: television is actually a cornerstone of our family time. In fact, watching TV together is often the only truly wholesome family time we manage on busy days. It might sound counterintuitive, but in our house, the glow of the screen often illuminates our family bond.
The Unexpected Family Bonding Ritual
It turns out our family isn’t alone in finding connection through the television screen, even though research suggests we might be in the minority. While recent studies highlight the rise of solo binge-watching on personal devices, with a significant 45% of people watching TV alone daily, and only 30% as a family, we firmly belong to that 30%. For us, television acts as a kind of flat-screen family therapist, bringing us together in a way that feels increasingly rare in our individualistic digital age.
Perhaps I’m to blame for this TV-centric family dynamic. My children have been exposed to television since they were infants. I vividly remember the early days with our first son, waking from exhaustion to find my husband cradling our newborn while engrossed in a documentary about bridges on TV. Later, there was the undeniable, slightly shameful thrill of witnessing our baby completely captivated by the brightly colored world of Teletubbies.
Back then, we had aspirations of wholesome, screen-free parenting – picture books, wooden toys, and educational activities. I envisioned myself as the kind of parent who entertained her baby with homemade playdough and sensory bins. Reality, however, had other plans. After those first few sleep-deprived months, I quickly realized I was the kind of parent who would embrace any opportunity for a moment of peace, even if it involved surrendering my child to the hypnotic allure of Tinky Winky.
From Teletubbies to Teen Drama
Television seamlessly integrated into our family life. Our eldest son soon developed an impressive repertoire of advertising jingles, rivaling his knowledge of nursery rhymes. The arrival of our second son cemented this dependence. TV became an invaluable extra pair of hands during those chaotic early years. When we moved to Paris, leaving behind our support network for a less-than-welcoming neighbor, television became an absolute lifeline.
We navigated through phases of brightly colored children’s programming and even a particularly intense period where our older son was only interested in a DVD of construction equipment set to upbeat music. The reign of Thomas the Tank Engine and Tweenies eventually gave way to slightly more palatable options, although watching The Suite Life of Zack & Cody dubbed in French was a truly surreal experience. Then, a golden age emerged. For a few glorious years, both boys shared a genuine love for Horrible Histories and The Simpsons, turning family TV time into an actual pleasure.
Navigating Teenage Years with TV
Now, we find ourselves in the tumultuous territory of parenting teenagers. While things could be worse – no arrests, and they are, thankfully, good kids – the teenage years bring their own unique challenges. Our children are naturally growing more independent, and as parents, we are rapidly becoming less central in their lives. My role seems to have narrowed down to laundry and worrying, while my husband handles shouting and math homework. Nagging, unfortunately, is a shared responsibility.
Communication becomes strained. Attempts at meaningful conversations often feel awkward or inadequate. When we call their names, we are met with weary, defensive looks, as if anything we might say – a request to tidy their rooms, a lecture about their future, or a simple question – is inherently terrible. Family dinners, once touted as essential for connection, have become exercises in silent chewing rather than heartfelt exchange.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the same room, yet worlds apart. Our sons, heads bent over their phones, enveloped in teenage angst and the scent of Lynx deodorant, feel impossibly distant. What are they thinking? Are they happy? Where have I gone wrong this week? These questions swirl in my mind as I navigate the ever-present challenges of teenage parenting. We used to enjoy walks or board games as a family. Now, suggesting a game of Monopoly is met with the same enthusiasm as a trip to the dentist.
The Magic of Shared Viewing
Yet, amidst the teenage turbulence, television remains a constant. Every evening, according to our hard-won “Peace of Westphalia” screen-time agreement, phones are put away, and we gather to watch TV. Crammed onto a sofa that’s clearly too small, facing the screen, a sense of ease descends. We laugh, we comment, and we momentarily forget the earlier tensions of the day.
Of course, there’s nothing groundbreaking about a family bonding over television. It’s a classic trope, a staple of TV itself, from shows like The Royle Family to Gogglebox and The Simpsons. But these tropes exist because they reflect a truth: sometimes, television can reach those parts of family life that other parenting strategies can’t.
Agreeing on what to watch, however, is another matter entirely. My elder son favors intense dramas with violence, while my husband prefers anything with explosions, cars, or Kevin McCloud. My own tastes lean towards dark comedies, true crime, and, inexplicably to the rest of my family, The Yorkshire Vet. My younger son is devoted to Doctor Who but also enjoys critiquing the production quality of almost everything else. A Venn diagram of our viewing preferences would likely resemble four circles deliberately avoiding each other – a reflection of family life itself at times.
Beyond Entertainment: Subtle Life Lessons
But thanks to the “golden age of television” and the accessibility of streaming services, we somehow manage to find common ground. We discover shows we all genuinely enjoy, or at least tolerate without open revolt. Introducing them to Father Ted was a gamble (no explosions, Time Lords, or Kevin McCloud), but it paid off, and comedy has become our family’s go-to genre. We’ve enjoyed 30 Rock, Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, and many more. We occasionally venture into drama (Breaking Bad, Fargo) or unintentional comedy (Designated Survivor).
Not everything is a hit. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend was deemed “too girly,” and Flight of the Conchords, while appreciated by some, was perhaps a bit too mature for our younger son at the time.
However, when the viewing alchemy works, it’s truly magical. Some evenings, we sit down barely speaking, the air thick with teenage resentment. But twenty minutes into a show, we’ve usually shared at least a reluctant laugh. Recognizing shared humor is strangely comforting. When we find ourselves laughing simultaneously – at Titus Andromedon’s peacock in Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, for example – it feels like a small victory in the ongoing saga of teenage parenting. For a brief moment, we’re not just tiresome authority figures. Life inside a box set becomes a welcome escape from arguments, exams, and daily friction.
Physically, too, there’s a closeness that’s increasingly rare now that our boys are growing into independent young men. One son might use me as a human cushion, while the other warms his feet under my husband’s legs. Even when there’s no deliberate physical contact, the saggy sofa cushions nudge us closer together anyway.
I don’t expect family TV time to be educational. It’s a truce, not a teaching opportunity. Yet, we’ve absorbed thoughtful perspectives on complex themes like relationships, ambition, grief, and betrayal through the shows we watch. Occasionally, this shared viewing opens up a space for us to discuss “the big stuff” more easily. I’ve also been happy for my sons to see intelligent, funny, and competent women in leading roles in shows like 30 Rock and Parks and Recreation.
More broadly, the comedies we love often feature groups of people bound together by circumstance or blood, navigating complicated relationships. Imperfect parents and flawed children are common themes. Characters often behave selfishly or foolishly but are ultimately forgiven and loved. These shows don’t offer simplistic sitcom resolutions, but they do provide the reassuring message of enduring family bonds, even amidst constant evolution and challenges. As Jack Donaghy famously says in 30 Rock, “Do you know what family means to me, Lemon? Resentment, guilt, anger… Easter egg hunts that turn into knife fights.” But even Donaghy tolerates his dreadful mother. Perhaps, with a little help from television, my children will continue to tolerate theirs.
