Rocky Mountain Moms Blog

A glimpse of grandparenthood

I've always wondered why the older women in my life were so excited to become grandmothers. If you're a grandmother then you're...well...old. And I don't want to be old. I want my kids to grow up, move out and leave us empty nesters at the ripe ol' age of 45 with plenty of time and energy to see the world, not to mention sleep late on the occasional Saturday. (No chance of that happening at 45 since I'll hit 36 this year and still have a toddler at home...sigh.)

But if you take the whole growing old thing out of the equation, the idea of becoming a grandparent isn't nearly as scary. And after visiting a dear friend of mine I finally understand what has all these women so excited. By the way, it isn't the senior discount at McDonald's though I am looking forward to half-price Diet Cokes.

A little background: I have known LeShan for over 12 years and over the course of those 12 years we've given birth to four children. (She wins for having a set of twin boys!) About four years ago she moved across country and I've managed to visit her once a year or so. I live in Utah and she lives in "sunny weather, Disneyworld, white sand beaches" Florida. To get there I sell crap treasures on eBay so I can have a mini vacation from my own little reality here in the Salt Lake Valley. The effort is well worth it.

My Lighter Half

When we were kids, my dad used to take us sledding while my mom stayed home and made hot cocoa (now that I am a mom, my bet is she was probably watching tv or taking a bath).  Nevertheless, we were gone, and it was special Daddy bonding time.  Something we did with only our dad.  And we loved every minute of it.  But it was frigid, and we got cold, our clothes wet and our faces chapped. 

I’ll never forget my then four year brother, Jeremy, crying and saying that his face hurt from the cold.  Thankfully, my dad always had all the answers.  “Don’t worry,” I remember him saying amidst the masses of kids flying by us on inner tubes, “I brought ChapStick,” a sparkle on his front tooth. 

Taming the Media Flood

I have a confession to make: I was one of those annoying pre-parents who swore my kids would never watch or play video games. Oh, sure, I didn't say it aloud or anything, and even in my private heart where I was swearing this I must have had my doubts, as I forked down dinner watching the Simpsons or stared glassy-eyed at my husband watching the third football game of the day. Plus there was the whole one-reason-I'm-having-kids-is-to-watch-kids'-movies thing. But still. I sort of assumed there would be a minimum of monitor time in our house, and a maximum of enriching activities like science projects and painting and books.

Well, ha. Ha-di-ha-ha. That joke's on me. Even if I could smile a bit in smug relief when I read last week's article in the NYT about children and media devices (which word do you hate more, mm? "Media" or "device"? I can't make up my mind), "If Your Kids Are Awake, They're Probably Online." So far my eight-year-old is more or less where he's always been, media-device-wise, at about two hours a day, give or take a little. However, I know it's only a matter of time--and it's probably weeks, not years--before we've added "watching YouTube" to the list of activities we argue about. ("PLEASE just one more clip of Cartman swearing at his mom! PLEEEEASE!") My kids, thanks to demographics, parental inclination, and parental cheapskate-ness, will probably always be on the lower end of media consumption; but it's part of their life now, it's part of the lives of all the kids they know, and it's going to be a big part of their lives in the future. I just have to deal. And oh, I do not want to.

All Hail Queen Sparkly Head

The votes are in which makes it official, I suppose.  I’m going gray.  Sure, all the voters reside in my head but still I thought we’d come down on the fighting side of this one.  Dye and deny, that sort of thing.  But nope, gray it is. 

That’s not to say that I’m ready to be packed off creaking knees and all into the night. I’m not old; I’m just done fighting it.

So there you have it.  I’m going gray.

Boy! That official proclamation makes it feel so festive!  All hail the brave Queen and this hallowed day on which she deigned to go gray.  Hey, know what? Let’s call it silver and make it a party.  The word from the throne is that all that glitters atop the royal head is diamond dust and precious metals.

Who me? Care? Why would I care that my hair is being transformed from long flowing chestnut locks of Clairol fairy tales into the metallic sheen of a geriatric walker? She says as she runs an anxious hand through a dazzlingly streaked coiffure.

SV Moms Group Blogs about Haiti

Collectively, we have a powerful voice.  Our messages and stories of aid, sadness, fear, shock and even hope made its way through the internet and social media tools upon learning about the devastation in Haiti.  We want to help and let the Haitians know that they are not alone.  In both small and large ways, the blogging community is here, getting the word out and using our united voices and sites to share love, concern and messages of hope.

CLICK HERE TO SEE ARTICLES WRITTEN BY SV MOMS GROUP CONTRIBUTORS ABOUT HAITI ........

Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh: A Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club

Love affairs in Paris, culture, style, genius. Typical mom stuff, right? Join us as Silicon Valley Moms Group bloggers talk about the book Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh.

• Sophia from Moody Mommy ponders Me? Naked?
• Christina from Hooey Critic explains that in German it would be called 'Ehebruch'
• Sam from Temporarily Me Dot Com thinks about Love. Elsewhere 
• Lisa from Hannemaniacs' revels in her luxurious life
• Melanie from Tales from the Crib discusses faithfulness
• Jessica from It's My Life has a little Coco Chanel flashback
• Heidi from Coast 2 Coast Mom wonders how Coco Chanel would have done a mom uniform
• Leticia from Tech Savvy Mama finds that member-only sale sites feature Coco Chanel and designer duds for less
• Kim from I'm Not the Nanny found herself examining family vs career aka SAHM vs working moms
• Erica from wellthoughtoutspot wonders what Coco would say about her unfashionable side
• Vanessa from Chefdruck Musings Puts Down the Paintbrush to Find the Right Tool for her Creativity
• Stacy from Laptop TV Mom discusses Coco Chanel and Tiger Woods
• Michelle from Wife and Mommy reveals her special talent
• Ana from Finding Bonggamom has a love affair with pearls
• Linsey from Me Too You talks about independence and balance

Silicon Valley Moms Blog is hosting the book club discussion this month. Please leave a comment below and join in the discussion.

Past Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Clubs have included:

• See Mom Run by Beth Feldman
  
• Close Encounters of the Third-Grade Kind by Phillip Done
• This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Topper
• Do One Nice Thing by Debbie Tenzer
• Birth Day by Mark Sloan, M.D.
• What Happened to the Girl I Married? by Michael Miller
• Testimony by Anita Shreve
  
• Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs
  
• Much to Your Chagrin by Suzanne Guilette
  
• It Started with Pop-Tarts by Lori Hanson
  
• Who By Fire by Diana Spechler
• The White Trash Moms Handbook by Michelle Lamar
• Writing Motherhood by Lisa Garrigues
• The Vaccine Book by Dr. Robert W. Sears
• The Other Mother by Gwendolen Gross

Click here to read all about the Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club.

This is not a paid for post. The publisher of this book did provide free copies to Silicon Valley Moms Group bloggers to use for this book club.

Six Days In London, I'm Not Jetlagged, I'm Refreshed

Sometimes I think the universe works in funny ways. One seemingly uneventful day in September when I was feeling rather morose about my life I received an email from a girlfriend inviting me on a trip to London. My initial thoughts were full of excitement and quite frankly I was delighted by the thought of traveling to Europe, even if it was for a whirlwind long weekend. Then my thoughts quickly turned to courage. Would I be courageous enough to leave my girls for six days, separated by a very large ocean, and over 4,500 miles?

Yes, I am happy to report, I was courageous enough to face my anxiety and fears. Truly the problem wasn't leaving my girls with my husband, he's an exceptional father. My problem was letting go of control. Control of the routine, proper bedtime, nutritionally balanced home cooked meals, on and on I could go. Then there was the little problem of flying. I am a nervous wreck when I get on an airplane. Just thinking of an eight hour flight over a huge ocean left me paralyzed with fear. If only you could have seen me in flight, I was a flushed cheek nervous wreck. Eventually I let go, let go of the control, let go of my fears. Before I knew it, our wheels touched down in London and my adventure was about to begin. 

I spent my time in London savoring the moments big and small. Seeing the Rosetta Stone at the British Museum was just as inspiring as watching a group of grey haired women share some laughs over afternoon tea. I cherished conversations with my girlfriends, one I hadn't seen in ten years, the other four years. I enjoyed each meal for it's ability to just linger on and on, with no one tugging at my leg to take them to the potty or demanding it was time to go. I learned how to take on the brisk pace of a Londoner on the city streets and navigating the tube. I felt content. 

The Christmas Tree Walk of Shame

It's one month after Christmas.  Do you know where your Christmas tree is? 

Growing up we always de-decorated our Christmas tree on New Year's Eve, then the tree could go out New Year's Day.  And now, every year I have the best intentions of getting the tree out of the house on that same schedule.  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn't.

When it works, it's very, very good.  When it doesn't work, it's time for the Christmas tree walk of shame.

What, exactly, is the Christmas tree walk of shame?  It's when you've waited so long to get the the out of the house there's nothing you can legally do to dispose of it and the whole world becomes aware that you're so disorganized and/or lazy that you waited too long to take down your Christmas decorations.

In our town, the first opportunity to get rid of your tree courtesy of the town itself is on Twelfth Night, a celebration whereby you take your tree to the town park and it's burned along with hundred of other trees.  Cookies and hot chocolate are served by the local Lions Club.  Because I'm sure that's just what the Three Wise Men ate when they arrived in Bethlehem.  Let's face it--our town's Twelfth Night celebration is really just an excuse to practice pyromania and drink chocolate sugar water.

Anti-overscheduled parenting

If there were such a phrase as "anti-overscheduled parenting" it would describe my method of parenting. I am a firm believer that packing in too many activities in your child's day leaves little or no room for the most important activity: free play.

I must admit, one of the reasons I don't sign up my children for soccer, orchestra and dance all at the same time is because I don't want to spend my afternoons in a minivan running here, there and everywhere. Dropping off and picking up only works well if a carpool of some sort is involved; otherwise it's not worth the drive home just to turn around and head back to the dance studio. I have pretty much only two options: one, chase after my toddler and pre-schooler so they don't jump into the pool where my oldest daughter's swim team is practicing; or two, fill that lesson time running errands, and the latter often means a trip to Target where I can easily find things to fill up a shopping cart. What should be $75-a-month swimming lesson quickly turns into $475-a-month swimming lesson.

Products on TV That Will Surely Make My Life Better

I confess:  I've bought a few things from TV infomercials over the years.  I look down my nose at people like me--people who are silly enough to see something on TV and be duped into thinking it will work at home for them just like on TV.  Despite my best efforts, I have yet to have this experience.

At first I was alone in my buying of stuff off TV.  Now it has become a family affair.  Such happy news.

The first thing I ever bought was this ridiculous paint roller thingy that, in theory, would help you create professional-looking faux finishes on your walls.  Remember the faux finish craze?  Or is it still around?  Here in the mountains, all of our walls are textured so I don't see a lot of faux painting so I may be horribly out of touch.  It wouldn't be the first time.

If Only I Ate Like My Son

I have learned many things since having a child that have changed my life, but there is one thing that has not changed. My diet. I have forever had a sweet tooth and eat far more treats and processed insta-meals than I should. I have always known what I should eat, I was a Community Health major for heaven's sake (that didn't last long). It is just the the transition from knowing to doing that has been difficult.

So, what should come to me on that fateful day just over two years ago than a miniature sized health nut. From the first days of solids it was apparent. Don't bother him with anything with any type of meat ingredient. I can't really blame him, meat was never meant to be a puree. He only wanted pure unadulterated fruits and veggies. None of these mixes and or "dinners." If there was more than one word on the jar, he knew it. So, we stuck with Squash, Sweet Potatoes, Pears, etc. 

Fear of death and other recreational pleasures

We went skiing this past weekend, as a family. It was the first ski trip of the season, one of five (5) trips we will make, since we locked ourselves into the ski season by investing in three of those five-pack ski passes (and can I just say that the pleasure I experience in casually referring to my ski pass is obviously evidence of my coolness quotient, or lack thereof). It was fun. It was awesome. And I am never going again.

Now, I love skiing. True, I was a latecomer to the sport (technically I am a latercomer to every sport, since I was determinedly unathletic as a kid, but I was really a latecomer to skiing)--but I leapt into the skiing demographic with gusto and I've never really looked back. I looked forward to raising ski-happy Colorado kids. My husband and I have spent many pleasant hours talking about When The Kids Are Old Enough To Hut Ski and When The Kids Are Old Enough To Get a Family Ski Pass. It's been a delicious fantasy; now that I've actually gone skiing with my son, however, the fantasy is over.

Here's my main problem: death.

Are You There Body? It's Me, Brie.

Well, it’s official.  I am not a super model.  And while the better part of me would go up to Heidi Klum if I saw her and tell her that she is amazing for being able to get back on the runway two months after having a kid, the bigger part of me would break her skinny ass in half.  I mean, all my love to the super models of the world, but two months?  Seriously? 

Here I sit with a nice layer of new-ish mommy goodness covering my tummy five months later.  I keep reminding myself that underneath my squishy exterior is an ex college athlete.  Underneath this dimpled flesh is a woman who is a trail runner, a yogini and a former marathoner.  It’s only a matter of time, I tell myself as I suck my gut in to force yet another zipper.

Make it work mothering

You know what I love about the internet, about blogs especially?  The fact that a wealth of first hand experience and information is but a fingertip click away.  Seriously, it's amazing, and also, annoying.  

Let me explain.

I am so over the agendas and labels that seem to have sprung up everywhere in internet land. 

Things like: 

"Extended breast feeding"? Oh what?  You still breast feed your toddler?  Great, your business, not mine.  

You must be a "Crunchy Mama" if you cloth diaper or make your own baby food.  Hippie revolution indeed.

Why is there even such a thing as the term "co-sleeping" and when did it become this magnanimous parenting decision?  Okay so you sleep with your kid, awesome.  If that works for you and your kid than hip hop hooray!

"Attachment Parenting"?  You have a baby, you love that baby, you tell that baby you love them, you show that baby you love them FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIFE.  It's not rocket science and I don't need William Sears or some random blog to tell me that's how things should be done.  The same can be said for "Natural Parenting" or whatever other "parenting styles" are out there.    

"Natural" childbirth.  Where the word "epidural" is on par with some of the worst 4 letter ones I know.  Go big or go home.     

A glimpse of grandparenthood

I've always wondered why the older women in my life were so excited to become grandmothers. If you're a grandmother then you're...well...old. And I don't want to be old. I want my kids to grow up, move out and leave us empty nesters at the ripe ol' age of 45 with plenty of time and energy to see the world, not to mention sleep late on the occasional Saturday. (No chance of that happening at 45 since I'll hit 36 this year and still have a toddler at home...sigh.)

But if you take the whole growing old thing out of the equation, the idea of becoming a grandparent isn't nearly as scary. And after visiting a dear friend of mine I finally understand what has all these women so excited. By the way, it isn't the senior discount at McDonald's though I am looking forward to half-price Diet Cokes.

A little background: I have known LeShan for over 12 years and over the course of those 12 years we've given birth to four children. (She wins for having a set of twin boys!) About four years ago she moved across country and I've managed to visit her once a year or so. I live in Utah and she lives in "sunny weather, Disneyworld, white sand beaches" Florida. To get there I sell crap treasures on eBay so I can have a mini vacation from my own little reality here in the Salt Lake Valley. The effort is well worth it.

My Lighter Half

When we were kids, my dad used to take us sledding while my mom stayed home and made hot cocoa (now that I am a mom, my bet is she was probably watching tv or taking a bath).  Nevertheless, we were gone, and it was special Daddy bonding time.  Something we did with only our dad.  And we loved every minute of it.  But it was frigid, and we got cold, our clothes wet and our faces chapped. 

I’ll never forget my then four year brother, Jeremy, crying and saying that his face hurt from the cold.  Thankfully, my dad always had all the answers.  “Don’t worry,” I remember him saying amidst the masses of kids flying by us on inner tubes, “I brought ChapStick,” a sparkle on his front tooth. 

Taming the Media Flood

I have a confession to make: I was one of those annoying pre-parents who swore my kids would never watch or play video games. Oh, sure, I didn't say it aloud or anything, and even in my private heart where I was swearing this I must have had my doubts, as I forked down dinner watching the Simpsons or stared glassy-eyed at my husband watching the third football game of the day. Plus there was the whole one-reason-I'm-having-kids-is-to-watch-kids'-movies thing. But still. I sort of assumed there would be a minimum of monitor time in our house, and a maximum of enriching activities like science projects and painting and books.

Well, ha. Ha-di-ha-ha. That joke's on me. Even if I could smile a bit in smug relief when I read last week's article in the NYT about children and media devices (which word do you hate more, mm? "Media" or "device"? I can't make up my mind), "If Your Kids Are Awake, They're Probably Online." So far my eight-year-old is more or less where he's always been, media-device-wise, at about two hours a day, give or take a little. However, I know it's only a matter of time--and it's probably weeks, not years--before we've added "watching YouTube" to the list of activities we argue about. ("PLEASE just one more clip of Cartman swearing at his mom! PLEEEEASE!") My kids, thanks to demographics, parental inclination, and parental cheapskate-ness, will probably always be on the lower end of media consumption; but it's part of their life now, it's part of the lives of all the kids they know, and it's going to be a big part of their lives in the future. I just have to deal. And oh, I do not want to.

All Hail Queen Sparkly Head

The votes are in which makes it official, I suppose.  I’m going gray.  Sure, all the voters reside in my head but still I thought we’d come down on the fighting side of this one.  Dye and deny, that sort of thing.  But nope, gray it is. 

That’s not to say that I’m ready to be packed off creaking knees and all into the night. I’m not old; I’m just done fighting it.

So there you have it.  I’m going gray.

Boy! That official proclamation makes it feel so festive!  All hail the brave Queen and this hallowed day on which she deigned to go gray.  Hey, know what? Let’s call it silver and make it a party.  The word from the throne is that all that glitters atop the royal head is diamond dust and precious metals.

Who me? Care? Why would I care that my hair is being transformed from long flowing chestnut locks of Clairol fairy tales into the metallic sheen of a geriatric walker? She says as she runs an anxious hand through a dazzlingly streaked coiffure.

SV Moms Group Blogs about Haiti

Collectively, we have a powerful voice.  Our messages and stories of aid, sadness, fear, shock and even hope made its way through the internet and social media tools upon learning about the devastation in Haiti.  We want to help and let the Haitians know that they are not alone.  In both small and large ways, the blogging community is here, getting the word out and using our united voices and sites to share love, concern and messages of hope.

CLICK HERE TO SEE ARTICLES WRITTEN BY SV MOMS GROUP CONTRIBUTORS ABOUT HAITI ........

Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh: A Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club

Love affairs in Paris, culture, style, genius. Typical mom stuff, right? Join us as Silicon Valley Moms Group bloggers talk about the book Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh.

• Sophia from Moody Mommy ponders Me? Naked?
• Christina from Hooey Critic explains that in German it would be called 'Ehebruch'
• Sam from Temporarily Me Dot Com thinks about Love. Elsewhere 
• Lisa from Hannemaniacs' revels in her luxurious life
• Melanie from Tales from the Crib discusses faithfulness
• Jessica from It's My Life has a little Coco Chanel flashback
• Heidi from Coast 2 Coast Mom wonders how Coco Chanel would have done a mom uniform
• Leticia from Tech Savvy Mama finds that member-only sale sites feature Coco Chanel and designer duds for less
• Kim from I'm Not the Nanny found herself examining family vs career aka SAHM vs working moms
• Erica from wellthoughtoutspot wonders what Coco would say about her unfashionable side
• Vanessa from Chefdruck Musings Puts Down the Paintbrush to Find the Right Tool for her Creativity
• Stacy from Laptop TV Mom discusses Coco Chanel and Tiger Woods
• Michelle from Wife and Mommy reveals her special talent
• Ana from Finding Bonggamom has a love affair with pearls
• Linsey from Me Too You talks about independence and balance

Silicon Valley Moms Blog is hosting the book club discussion this month. Please leave a comment below and join in the discussion.

Past Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Clubs have included:

• See Mom Run by Beth Feldman
  
• Close Encounters of the Third-Grade Kind by Phillip Done
• This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Topper
• Do One Nice Thing by Debbie Tenzer
• Birth Day by Mark Sloan, M.D.
• What Happened to the Girl I Married? by Michael Miller
• Testimony by Anita Shreve
  
• Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs
  
• Much to Your Chagrin by Suzanne Guilette
  
• It Started with Pop-Tarts by Lori Hanson
  
• Who By Fire by Diana Spechler
• The White Trash Moms Handbook by Michelle Lamar
• Writing Motherhood by Lisa Garrigues
• The Vaccine Book by Dr. Robert W. Sears
• The Other Mother by Gwendolen Gross

Click here to read all about the Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club.

This is not a paid for post. The publisher of this book did provide free copies to Silicon Valley Moms Group bloggers to use for this book club.

Six Days In London, I'm Not Jetlagged, I'm Refreshed

Sometimes I think the universe works in funny ways. One seemingly uneventful day in September when I was feeling rather morose about my life I received an email from a girlfriend inviting me on a trip to London. My initial thoughts were full of excitement and quite frankly I was delighted by the thought of traveling to Europe, even if it was for a whirlwind long weekend. Then my thoughts quickly turned to courage. Would I be courageous enough to leave my girls for six days, separated by a very large ocean, and over 4,500 miles?

Yes, I am happy to report, I was courageous enough to face my anxiety and fears. Truly the problem wasn't leaving my girls with my husband, he's an exceptional father. My problem was letting go of control. Control of the routine, proper bedtime, nutritionally balanced home cooked meals, on and on I could go. Then there was the little problem of flying. I am a nervous wreck when I get on an airplane. Just thinking of an eight hour flight over a huge ocean left me paralyzed with fear. If only you could have seen me in flight, I was a flushed cheek nervous wreck. Eventually I let go, let go of the control, let go of my fears. Before I knew it, our wheels touched down in London and my adventure was about to begin. 

I spent my time in London savoring the moments big and small. Seeing the Rosetta Stone at the British Museum was just as inspiring as watching a group of grey haired women share some laughs over afternoon tea. I cherished conversations with my girlfriends, one I hadn't seen in ten years, the other four years. I enjoyed each meal for it's ability to just linger on and on, with no one tugging at my leg to take them to the potty or demanding it was time to go. I learned how to take on the brisk pace of a Londoner on the city streets and navigating the tube. I felt content. 

The Christmas Tree Walk of Shame

It's one month after Christmas.  Do you know where your Christmas tree is? 

Growing up we always de-decorated our Christmas tree on New Year's Eve, then the tree could go out New Year's Day.  And now, every year I have the best intentions of getting the tree out of the house on that same schedule.  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn't.

When it works, it's very, very good.  When it doesn't work, it's time for the Christmas tree walk of shame.

What, exactly, is the Christmas tree walk of shame?  It's when you've waited so long to get the the out of the house there's nothing you can legally do to dispose of it and the whole world becomes aware that you're so disorganized and/or lazy that you waited too long to take down your Christmas decorations.

In our town, the first opportunity to get rid of your tree courtesy of the town itself is on Twelfth Night, a celebration whereby you take your tree to the town park and it's burned along with hundred of other trees.  Cookies and hot chocolate are served by the local Lions Club.  Because I'm sure that's just what the Three Wise Men ate when they arrived in Bethlehem.  Let's face it--our town's Twelfth Night celebration is really just an excuse to practice pyromania and drink chocolate sugar water.

Anti-overscheduled parenting

If there were such a phrase as "anti-overscheduled parenting" it would describe my method of parenting. I am a firm believer that packing in too many activities in your child's day leaves little or no room for the most important activity: free play.

I must admit, one of the reasons I don't sign up my children for soccer, orchestra and dance all at the same time is because I don't want to spend my afternoons in a minivan running here, there and everywhere. Dropping off and picking up only works well if a carpool of some sort is involved; otherwise it's not worth the drive home just to turn around and head back to the dance studio. I have pretty much only two options: one, chase after my toddler and pre-schooler so they don't jump into the pool where my oldest daughter's swim team is practicing; or two, fill that lesson time running errands, and the latter often means a trip to Target where I can easily find things to fill up a shopping cart. What should be $75-a-month swimming lesson quickly turns into $475-a-month swimming lesson.

Products on TV That Will Surely Make My Life Better

I confess:  I've bought a few things from TV infomercials over the years.  I look down my nose at people like me--people who are silly enough to see something on TV and be duped into thinking it will work at home for them just like on TV.  Despite my best efforts, I have yet to have this experience.

At first I was alone in my buying of stuff off TV.  Now it has become a family affair.  Such happy news.

The first thing I ever bought was this ridiculous paint roller thingy that, in theory, would help you create professional-looking faux finishes on your walls.  Remember the faux finish craze?  Or is it still around?  Here in the mountains, all of our walls are textured so I don't see a lot of faux painting so I may be horribly out of touch.  It wouldn't be the first time.