The Boob Tube.

No, this post is not about strapless bras.

Although I did recently acquire a lovely strapless bra from Victoria's Secret. It's a bit on the bland side as it's nude, but...

Oh wait, right, this post is not about strapless bras. To all of our non-bra-wearing friends (men), I apologize.

This post is actually about television or, more appropriately, the lack of it. This weekend consisted mostly of Todd painting the den while I ran around doing errands, planning my best friend's bridal shower, playing with Alex, and basically being confined to only half of our house.

Our house is quite small so being confined to half of it meant that I basically stood there with Alex on my hip, staring at the 58294785489 books stacked on our living room couches (the bookcases are built in, in the den and were, of course, being painted), or watching Todd work through our interior window as I wondered out loud, "What in hell are we going to do without any place to sit? Without the television? For God's sake, man, we're going to die!"

I didn't realize how much I depended on the TV for background noise, for distraction, for entertainment. Nor did I realize just how much we use that room. It's a place for me to fold laundry, to recline and complain about how tired I am, it's where Alex likes to sit and play with her myriad of toys, it's where Todd makes his phone calls, and dude, it is where we watch television.

The TV room part of the den is only half of the room since Todd's office/Alex's play area takes up the other half, but we're always there. It's Todd's base for work, it has the doors to the backyard and subsequently the most light, and the television is in there. Todd and I always eat dinner in front of the TV because we eat so late at night and are, by that time, to tired to sit up straight in a hard-backed chair and make conversation about how tired we are.

But all weekend that room was off limits for Alex and since I was on baby duty all weekend the room was also off limits for me. The living room was essentially off limits as well since the books took up all the sitting room. I spent a lot of time in Alex's room playing with her, or folding laundry at the dining room table (hey, we sit there sometimes, just not for, you know, dining) while Alex flounced around whining, or we just sort of walked around trying to clean the house in order to insert some semblance of order and dignity in an otherwise overturned, insane environment.

And the TV was never turned on. Friday we had purchased the paint but were too tired to do anything, yet instead of sitting on the sofa, we ate dinner outside on the back patio and talked. Saturday we had dinner with some friends, came home and sat outside having drinks, talking and staring at the utter chaos in the den. Sunday night, at like 9:30pm we had dinner, again, outside, talking minimally and staring at the utter chaos in the den that was at last framed by beautiful, freshly painted walls.

It was one of the most satisfying weekends we've had. I felt like it was a full length weekend, not the lightning-quick stints that fly by, leaving me bleary-eyed and bemused on Monday mornings, wondering where the hell the weekend went. Each day felt rich and full because not only were things getting accomplished, but I was in constant contact with both Todd and Alexandra. The weekend was a hit.

I think it was a combination of a lot of things:

1.Todd was home almost the entire time both Saturday AND Sunday (he usually has to work all weekend to make up for the time spent watching Alex during the week) and getting that one on one time with him all weekend long was a gift from God

2. Aside from a couple of hours spent at our friends' house, we did nothing social and we certainly couldn't have friends over with that mess. As much as I love being with friends, it was really amazing, just being in family mode all weekend long, spending one on one time with Todd and also with Alex.

3 Lastly, that damned TV was off. All weekend long. There were no long stretches of life wasted in front of the thing, no dinners sitting on the sofa staring at some stupid show, no evenings were killed by us sitting down one minute and then glancing up the next, realizing we'd just spent 3 hours watching some crappy show hosted by John Quinones.

I know that tonight we'll likely collapse in a heap on the sofa, so happy that our television is back in place, eating dinner on TV trays and conversing solely about whatever show we're watching. But I also know that on the weekends, the damn thing is getting turned off and is going to stay off, and we're eating at the table like mother-effing adults.

P.S. Pictures to come soon of the new paint!