Oh, Biscuits!

A few weeks back, my life was rocked.

Catatonically, rocked.

Don’t worry! Physically, everyone in my family is fine. Mentally…well the vote is still out.

Like many in corporate America, I was laid off in what is being dubbed “a national headcount purge”. Not performance based, but a need for “cost-saving measures to ride out the current economic headwinds”; in essence, the role I held for twelve years—on the team and company I loved— was eliminated. I was gutted and completely godsmacked—as I’m sure most people effected by decisions like these were. It truly feels like a death in the family; a car-crash instant-death, with no closure and compounded grief. Outside of my reliable income, my confidence has been a major casualty of the economic climate; on many a night, I’ve woken from a dead sleep in a complete panic, thinking I am not worthy of another job and no one will ever give me the same opportunities, again. My husband has found me huddled at the foot of our bed in a puddle of tears.

Its been RUFF! (that’s a deliberate spelling choice and a pun, to boot. You’ll be clued in shortly…)

Everyday gets a little easier—late last week, my son innocently asked, “Mummy, have your eyes stopped leaking yet?” (Yes, adorable and heartbreaking at the same time.) And I’ve started the arduous task of applying for a new job—my current 9-to-5 is filling out job applications, and resisting the panicked urge to book a flight to the UK and never return. Slowly, I’m getting to the realization that, although awful, I will be better for this. A year from now, this will all be a blip of a memory and I will be happily sitting in a more fulfilling opportunity.

That doesn’t mean the here-and-now sucks any less. But I’m trying to make the best of it.

Like fulfilling my monthly pledge of writing this blog.

But what could I possibly write about, given my current emotional state? What could elicit the amount of joy I need to escape the doom-spirals taking up every ounce of my unconscious (and conscious) brain?

Oh, I know!

BLUEY!

*Authors annotation: if you skip past this opening credit sequence, you are a monster and we can’t be friends.*

No further explanation needed if you are a parent to a toddler or you have Disney+. I’m sure some of you saw that RUFF pun—or read the title of this blog—and knew where we were heading. If you are in the minority here, then sit back and pay attention; I’m about to change your life!

I don’t remember a time without Bluey—those were dark days—or why exactly my husband and I (and I guess our older son was there…maybe?) started watching it. I can’t remember if it was a recommendation—if it was and you are currently reading this, THANK YOU!—or if we just saw a cartoon dog on the screen and thought, “Wyatt may like this!” Nevertheless, Bluey came barreling into American lives in January, 2020 and took the world by storm. The show—with its absolutely perfect 9-minute episodes (“Wyatt, you can watch 2 Blueys and then its time for bed!”)—circles around the Heeler Family; Bandit, Chilli and their two daughters (a heavily debated topic when it first aired), Bluey and Bingo. Each episode centers on a theme (more on that later) or a game that the girls want to play with Dad—and yes, we all feel like inadequate parents after watching the lengths Dad will go to to entertain his two young daughters and their friends. Go watch the episode “Bad Mood” for a small taste of the Girl-Dad-ness of Bandit Heeler.

171 episodes later, Bluey is firmly indented into modern entertainment. A balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade pretty much seals the deal!

But what is the mass appeal of a little show like this? Why are children and their parents drawn to its characters in such a huge way?

The answer is simple: its just that good!

If you can write a show that a parent actually enjoys watching with their child, they are more likely to turn it on—I’m looking at you, Coco Melon! The episodes are smart; they give insight into a child’s imagination through play—we can learn everything we need from a quick round of Keepy Uppy or Pass the Parcel. On top of that, the show indirectly deals with some pretty heavy topics. Topics like death, miscarriage, ageing, infertility, the struggles of parenthood, trauma, separated families and insecurity are subtly added to the foreground of an episode; the adult theme is never outright discussed, but approached and seen through a child’s perspective. These soul crushing topics are handled so gently and processed through the innocence of children, that they are anything but scary to Bluey and Bingo—which in itself, is the true reality of childhood. Children watch as Bluey and Bingo navigate the topic of death none-the-wiser, while their parents pick themselves off the floor and scramble to Reddit to see if their “Bluey Theory” was correct—watch “The Show” and report back.

And I’m not kidding about the “Bluey Theory” and Reddit; the themes are so subtle that if you blink or look down at your phone (GUILTY!), you might miss it. When the last two sets of episodes were released (one the week I was laid-off), my husband and I purposely watched without our boys, so we could really zone in on every second. After gasps, grabbing of the others’ hand and tears—especially from the episode called “Onesies”—we discussed our theory and then looked it up. Rarely, the creator confirms any of the speculation; “Yes, there is a story behind it but we are leaving that up to their viewer’s imagination.”

From this vagueness spawned my newest social-anxiety trick for meeting the parents of my son’s friends: “Does *insert my son’s newest playmate’s name here* watch Bluey? Have you seen ‘Cricket’?” If all else fails and the silence is as deep as the Grand Canyon, bring-up Bluey. If they haven’t seen it, they will after your conversation and BOOM! you’re set for next time!

I could go on and on here about the magnificence of this “little” show. I could tell you that Muffin is a worst-case scenario toddler and a certified psychopath (watch “Faceytalk” for a glorious glimpse of Muffin Heeler), that each episode has an Easter egg hidden in the foreground (a tennis ball and a small toy dachshund), Unicorse needs his own show (even though he gets two episodes and the BEST tagline), that the title of this blog is one of Bandit’s catchphrases (and his way of cursing, without cursing), the Grannies should NOT be behind the wheel of a car, how every mom can relate to Chilli’s “I need 20-minutes alone” plea in “Sheep Dog”, and the “aha” moment when we see Lucky’s Mom for the first time—when we were all convinced she didn’t exist.

But at this very moment, “Stickbird”—an episode from the latest drop, where viewers see Bandit sad and unable to enjoy the beach holiday he is on with his family —has taught me a very timely and needed lesson. Being sad is okay, but ruminating—or obsessing—over the cause keeps you stuck in that emotion and a thousand miles away from the happy moments around you. Moments like your kids playing on the beach—or for me, the snow.

So I’m taking Bluey’s advice; “Collect all the upset and angry—from your neck, belly and especially your ears—and throw it as far away as you can.”