S.L. Anonymous...

They say that addictions usually start because of your peers. They are the first to offer you the substance or at least entice you with their own love of it. Such is the case with my new addiction. I've never been a soda drinker, okay so that's not true, I loved it growing up especially during my college years. Our dorms had caffeine free diet Dr pepper and I drank one or more everyday and then went back to my hard core Pepsi when I got home, often drinking it for breakfast. But I weened myself off of it and haven't liked it (except for an occasional Dr pepper) for all of my married years. But sadly I must now admit that I am an addict. It all started when I began scrapbooking with my dear sister in-law who I will call "Melissa". Melissa and I would love to get take out while scrapbooking and one day she introduced me to her favorite drink of choice. Nothing hard core just strawberry limeade, what could it hurt, so I ordered one too. I wasn't hooked right away, but after a few more get togethers for scrapbooking or play dates at Holly's, I found myself craving it more and more (the play dates are strictly for the kids. Us ladies would all rather be home scouring bathrooms, but we have to be good moms, it's a sacrifice but...) And now I've learned of this cursed thing called happy hour. Half priced drinks between 2 and 4. Is Sonic trying to kill me? And the shameful thing is that now my kids love strawberry limeade as much as I do. Don't be fooled by the name, this stuff packs a punch. Carbonated, sugar filled poison, that's what it is. I've had three jumbo sized ones this week. I never drink jumbo sized anything. I know, I know it could be worse. At least it's caffeine free and it contains fruit. That must count for something. But never the less, I'm trying to be healthy, and after watching Miss USA tonight and seeing those perfect, flat stomachs and remembering my goal of wanting to be the mother of 6 with a 6 pack (if that is humanly possible) I realize that this guilty pleasure must go or at least be curbed a bit. So I'm making this confession in hopes of being accountable to someone. Although that probably won't work because I know none of you would love me less if I got myself another strawberry limeade tomorrow. So wish me luck on this one, I'm gonna need it. I'd drive to Sonic right now if I could.

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By the way, during the Miss USA pageant I was commenting on who I thought was pretty and Waylon said to me, "Mom you can't say that girls are pretty because you are a girl and only guys can say that girls are pretty." Okay, he's 3. Where does he get this stuff? So I told him to tell me who he thought was pretty because he is a guy. He liked that, and thought that every one of them were pretty. He also said, "Mom I think you're hot and pretty too." How sweet that my 3 year old thinks I'm hot. Can you tell that he has older siblings?