Our ginormous tv is dead. We had a love-hate thing going on. Hubby bought it before we were married and I HATED it but loved him. Love-hate. For the last year, ginormo has been teasing us with a prolonged death. Losing some color here and there, then a speaker in and out and the whole time I was dreaming of another. Smaller, thinner, and mounted. But the damn thing held on for almost a year! Alas, the dinosaur came down. A month ago and we have yet to welcome that sleek and sexy new tv into our home. At first it was a battle of wills, between my husband and myself. I wanted small, and discreet. He wanted huge and manly. Whoever could go the longest without could pick the tv. Then I caved. He laughed. I got mad and changed my mind. We still don't have a tv.
Our lives have changed. After the first week the kids stopped asking to watch Dora and Diego. After the second week they woke in the morning anticipating which games to play that day and Daddy started planning activities for after dinner. Some time in the third week I had a breakdown, but after that stopped crying. (Really, this no tv thing wasn't a we-are-too-smart-and-inspired-to-watch-tv thing. We aren't sitting around having cumbaya moments with each other or anything. I wanted to WIN but I caved first. So when Daddy laughed, I was a sore loser and threw a fit. Now it's just pride carrying me out to sea.) Now we are on week four with no tv and I think we've come over the hump. We'll see. If this part of my post is missing in a few weeks you know it got worse.