My Addiction

“The powers of a man's mind are directly proportioned to the quantity of coffee he drinks.”
― James Mackintosh

I am finally ready to admit this.  I am addicted to coffee.  I supposed there are worse things to be addicted to--gambling, alcohol, meth.  I love coffee. I crave coffee. I NEEEEEEEED coffee.  I think about when I am going to get my next cup.  It is my "dark passenger" if you will.

Over the years I have gone through phases where I drank more coffee than at other times, but it was mostly a simple pleasure that I could take or leave.  No more.  Perhaps it was becoming a stay at home mom or the lack of sleep that followed.  Maybe it was discovering that a trip to a coffeeshop was an easy way to find a small way to remember "me."  Or maybe that kid-friendly coffeeshops are a godsend for the toddler set.

More recently, my coffee shop indulgence has been bolstered by 2 cups of drip at home.  Sometimes in the afternoon or an especially rainy day, I mix it up with a little homemade chai tea latte (Tazo chai concentrate mixed with vanilla soy milk, good cold or microwaved).

Each morning I fantasize about my first cup upon waking.  My perfect weekend morning includes sipping my coffee while reading People magazine as it drizzles rain outside my window.  I love the feel of warmth spreading through my veins, as though I am literally surging with energy and power.

I am a simple girl with simple tastes.  My parents are notoriously bad gift givers.  They are well-intentioned, but frequently off the mark.  Last year I received the best Christmas present ever from my parents: beautiful coffee mugs and sample of teas, hot cider, and coffees.  They finally get me!   This year my parents gave me a french press-- I still have yet to make the perfect cup with it.
I am realizing a prefer a dark roast.  I am not a fan of the blonde. The best coffee I ever drank was in Peru.  The Peruvian way is a thick wonderful sludge mixed with hot water.  I would go back to Peru just for the coffee. 

Linus and Eileen generally understand my enjoyment of coffee and often are supportive of my habit.  They are known to suggest checking out a new coffee shop if they see one or suggesting a quick run through the drive through.  When Eileen was coming out of anesthesia after getting tubes, she saw a cup of coffee on a commercial.  The nurses told me she groggily said, "Mama. Coffee."  18 months old and she already found coffee comforting.
  Some mornings I think to myself,  "Why am I grumpy today?  Oh, haven't had my coffee yet.  Mystery solved."

I bought myself a present this week.  I look at it as a good way to teach the children how the mathematical concept of volume works.

My coffee lets me be a better mama.  It allows me to function on small amounts of sleep.  It gives me the patience to deal with epic tantrums.   These days my goal is to drink it black.  For now it is a little sugar, a little cream, and love.

Hi. My name is Charlotte and I am a coffee addict.  It has been two hours since my last cup.