Any parent of a small person not living under a rock (even if they wish there were) would know of Bluey.
Set in Brisbane, it is a celebration of family life and is infinitely relatable. It’s the Peppa Pig of Australia which is excellent news because Peppa is obnoxious and annoying.
The episodes are a diverse and astonishingly accurate portrayal of what it's like raising small children. It's a show that parents have admitted to watching long after the kids have left the room.
Watch: Why parents and kids are loving ABC Kids' Bluey. Post continues below.
To pick a favourite episode might be a bit like picking a favourite child.
‘Army’ celebrates neurodiversity, ‘Baby Race’ is the episode that very nearly made my heart dissolve, and for every mother who enjoys the peace and simplicity of a lone walk, then the episode ‘Beach’ will have special meaning.
But the only bone I have to pick with Bluey - and it’s not Bluey’s fault, by the way - is that the show, in all its relatable brilliance, has made me realise how rubbish I am at playing with my child.
Chilli and Bandit (Bluey and Bingo’s parents) are nailing parenthood and crushing imagination play, and I'm envious of a couple of fictional cartoon dogs.
They’re making me look bad.
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I was an excellent parent, albeit a very judgemental one, before I actually had my child.
Pre-motherhood, I was very uninformed about what kind of parent I would be. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism for the shit time I had trying to fall pregnant, but my way to get through the possibility of not having a child was to be very clear about how I would parent, and this also meant being oblivious to the realities of parenting.
So when I would hear or read about parents saying that they didn’t like playing with their child I would huff and puff at the indignity of people having children who couldn’t be bothered to play with them.