Confession

I have a confession to make. Dear Internet friends and family -- I have been cheating on you. I admit it, and I am sorry.

I originally started this blog as a way of easily distributing the weekly newsletters we were getting from Lily's school. Clearly, it grew from there, taking off like a wildfire and, well, satisfying many of my "Dear Diary" needs. I have always been terrible at journaling, and the baby books for both girls sit idle and empty, collecting dust on their respective bookshelves. But blogging, now that was something that I could get behind. I enjoy it. And although somewhat (well, totally) one-sided, at least I know that you are up to date with all the latest and greatest happenings in our lives! While I would LOVE to know as much about all of your lives, this blog was pretty fulfilling.

Until I met a cousin of "Blogspot" in the world of social networking...Facebook.

And now I'm doomed.

Facebook is SO addictive. It's quick. It's fun. I can post photos, videos, quotes in 5 minutes or less, rather than sit down for a 20+ minute blogging session. And it's not one-sided. While not everyone is there, MOST of you are. So now I know that at 9:57 p.m. you're "wondering which will be less painful -- dishes or laundry" or at 6:23 a.m. you're "begging the coffee pot to brew faster. FASTER!"

So for all those who have wondered how I have the enough room in my week to be a full-time working mother of two who blogs, I regret to inform you that the addition of FB to that equation has thrown it all out of whack. And, thus, I haven't blogged for a week now.

My apologies!

But if Bill Paxton can handle three wives on HBO's hit series Big Love, then I can certainly handle blogging and FB.

So I will leave you with my confession, my apologies, and my pledge to do better. Oh, and a video of Anna, who is 10 months old today, and has recently turned in to a whistling fool.

My parents used to tell me that I started to whistle at 9 months of age, but my dad use to also regale me with tales of walking 5 miles to school -- uphill (both ways) -- in the snow, carrying his trombone, which weighed more than he did. He might have also been wearing a tuxedo during these daily treks. So I don't always believe what my parents say. But given the fact that my 10 month old now whistles ALL. THE. TIME...well, perhaps I'll start listening to my parents again.