Getting Things Off My Chest

I haven't confessed in a while. I'm not sure if the lovely E will be doing her Midweek Confessions today, but I've got some things to get out in the open.

I really like am addicted to playing the game Ruzzle, on my phone. It's like Boggle. It moves fast. You can have lots of games going at once. I'm hooked.

Last night we cranked up the thermostat from the usual 66 degrees to 69, and it still felt chilly, even when wearing a sweater. I guess that happens when it's 0 degrees outside. To deal with the frigid situation, Steve built a fire, we snuggled on the couch with the girls all evening, and we indulged in hot cocoa and popcorn for supper. We entertained Clarissa and Veronica with some rare evening television. They chose to watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. It's a cute show. It really is. But I think I've seen it 50 times since last November. It may be true that during our family bonding time, I played Ruzzle to get through the 51st airing of Charlie Brown. Before smart phones and laptops, how did parents survive endless viewings of the same shows? I want to be in the moment with my girls, but really? They were shoving popcorn into their mouths and watching a show that I can almost recite in full. Should I feel bad for entertaining myself?

I'm kind of obsessed with the Circle of Moms Top 25 contest. The blog world is flooded with writers, cooks, bakers, moms. Even in the comparatively tiny sphere of vegetarian and vegan blogging, there are hundreds of people out there publishing recipes and talking about being veg. It's a hard niche to break into (I'm still trying to, after more than a year and a half). I'm not sure if you are helping me, or just feeding my obsession, but I'd love it, if you would throw a vote my way:

Most days I can't wait for Veronica and Clarissa to wake up in the morning. They typically wake up happy and ready to start the day. They are full of joy and hugs and kisses. Then there are mornings like today. The girls are themselves: happy, silly, joyous. I, on the other hand, cringed when I first heard them talking in their room. I wasn't ready. I felt sickly and couldn't tell if it was too much or not enough coffee. I didn't have anything ready for their breakfast. There were chores that I should have already completed, but I wasted away my child-free morning hours. I just wanted another half hour or 45 minutes, before I had to get into full mom mode. Lucky for me, those sweet faces and all the goofy laughter almost always pulls me out of that grumpy mood, as it did today. I'll tell you, though, there are few things that will make you feel like a worse mom, than hearing your child's voice and cringing.