It's A Wiggles World

It all started when Julia was a toddler and the Disney channel would play short clips of 4 Australian guys singing cheery songs in between shows. Little did we know that the Wiggles were on the cusp of world domination.

We bought her a Wiggles CD and joyously all sang along and laughed as she mispronounced all the words. Eventually, the CD got stolen out of my car, she outgrew the music and we became a full-fledged Thomas family. That's right, by this time Ethan had joined our family and as much as he liked an occasional Elmo or Blue's Clues, he was, and still remains, a Thomas fan through and through. That is, until a couple of months before his 4th birthday (the one he almost didn't get to have because boys who still wear diapers have to stay 3) when he suddenly fell in love with Greg, Murray, Anthony and Jeff and declared that he wanted a Wiggles birthday party. The stars aligned, I found a bunch of Wiggles party stuff on clearance and the party was a success.

Of course by now Mr. Bunch had also joined our family and little did we know it but his little ears had been listening to all that Wiggles music all along. So much so that when he started saying Giggo Giggo and we all thought it was so cute, my MIL correctly deciphered it as actually his attempt to say Wiggles. All of a sudden our Tivo went into Wiggles overdrive. This kid whose attention span is shorter than a Lindsey Lohan stint in rehab (i.e. don't blink) will actually sit through a 25 minute episode of the Wiggles.

This was a really really good thing until we went from having three working televisions to one. As anyone knows, the youngest member of any family runs the household. So here we sit in our overheated master bedroom, watching episode after episode of Giggo Giggo. Though we have several episodes recorded, it's not uncommon to find us watching the same episode more than once a day. The little guy will not still sit for Sesame Street or, much to his older siblings' dismay, Wow Wow Wubzy or Spongebob Squarepants or anything else. Giggo it must be. And in the car, we get to watch and listen to Wiggles DVDs. This is what I mean by world domination.

Thankfully, I've always liked the Wiggles. Their songs are cheerful and catchy and they don't get on my nerves like they do several of my mommy friends'. I'd much rather listen to an endless loop of Hot Potato than one performance of insipid Barney, for example, singing I Love You, You Love Me. So our little Wiggles obsession could be much worse to tolerate than it is.

The funniest part of all this is that now Julia is a born-again Wiggles fan. She loves the shows, she likes the songs and she jumps out of her seat to dance along. She's even got the choreography down. She probably would prefer that her friends think she spends her days watching Hannah Montana, but the truth is much sweeter.

You might be tempted to post a comment about the perils of too much television for children. Don't bother. I have no floors; basically, no downstairs. If Giggo is going to get my kid to sit still while I feed him and save me from having macaroni and cheese smeared into my bedroom carpet, then bring it on. If three kids will sit down and be quiet and not ask me for one more thing for 25 minutes so I can figure out which fire to put out next, then thank the Lord. And if these Wiggles will distract my babies from the fact that their house is a disaster, their mom has lost her mind and their dad is a little broken, then it's a miracle indeed.