Before I had children, I swore that I’d never let my children watch any obnoxious kids shows like “Barnie” or “Telletubbies.” I couldn’t believe parents would let their children’s brains atrophy infront of the boob tube and inflict headaches upon themselves from the sidelines. Those annoying songs. The terrible plots and the repetition. Who can stomach this? Certainly not me.

I actually held this unwritten law pretty well for many years of motherhood. I did cave for a few children’s DVDs that pushed the envelope on obnoxious, but the bottom line was it gave me a quiet 30 minutes to take a shower or throw together a meal. It wasn’t until my youngest daughter was mobile that my cable temptations got the best of me. She wouldn’t watch TV, or a Disney princess movie (always a good fallback for a little mid-day R&R) and she was destroying my house faster than I could clean it up.

So I gave it a try, went against all of my own morals and values and put on “Teletubbies.” (I actually tried several other programs first before I sucuumbed to the little primary-colored, chubby creatures.) I noticed a change immediately. There was quiet in my house. I could hear birds again. I heard my own thoughts and each day they were clearer than the day before. Soon she started asking to watch “Tubbies” every afternoon and I found that we both looked forward to that respite from the day. She needed it every bit as much as I did.

The mockers were present, but I ignored them. The benefits far outweighed any teasing I had to endure. Even those who called me out on my own hypocrisy (my husband) couldn’t really dispute my abandonment of integrity. After many crayon-covered walls and destroyed bookshelves, a little annoying kids show seemed like a small price to pay for the happiness had by all.

However, lowering your standards doesn’t come without a price. I now hear myself defending Paul Blart: Mall Cop as a pretty good movie, comparing it to other similar movies of its genre. Where have my standards gone? In defense of my action, I must say, at this point it’s really not about lowering my standards—it’s about comparing it to the competition. Sure, if I compared Mall Cop it to Oscar contenders there would be no contest, but people with children choose between Mall Cop and Hotel for Dogs, or Veggie Tales vs. Piglet’s Big Adventure. Really, if I laugh even once or don’t fall asleep in the theater, I consider it a four-star success.

On more than one occasion, while channel surfing, I’ve caught myself getting stuck on “Hannah Montana,” and I linger longer than I’d like to admit. What is it about that silly show that I like? Does she really belong with Jake or should her heart go another direction? Again, don’t mock it until it sucks you in, too, without even taking notice.

Fortunately, we’ve graduated on from the “Telletubbies” to “Doodlebops.” I’m not really sure if that counts as an upgrade. It’s kind of like going from an old used minivan to a newer used minivan with a few dings. But if you think “Doodlebops” is awful, tune in for an episode of the “Fresh Beat Band” and you’ll beg to watch “Doodlebops” again.

Question: What bad TV shows have you endured?