Dear Mom/Recipe Creator and Tester/Crafter/Household Goddess Blogger,

My days are packed from sunup, when my oldest attempts to make breakfast by opening and slamming closed every cabinet in the kitchen, to well-past sundown, when my youngest delights in squeezing every last ounce of attention and play-time and story out of my body.

I panic at 2PM everyday because I only have 2 1/2 hours until I have to make dinner, and there is so much to be done by then.

By necessity, I multitask. I pee while explaining to the little fingers sticking under my door what privacy is. I make lunch while refereeing a squabble between at least two of my children. I do squats while trying to explain to my toddler that this is not the time for me to talk. I do laundry while letting same toddler “help.” Toddler likes to “help” a lot, which is why I get less done by 10pm than most people get done by breakfast.

I live my days trying to fit things into 15-minute increments. Clean bathrooms? 15 minutes. Remake beds? 15 minutes. Converse and connect with my husband in a meaningful and loving way after we’ve both not laid shadowed eyes on each other in a day or so…ok, sometimes that one doesn’t get crossed off the to-do list. Most things don’t. I have so many half-finished tasks.

Your lovely, lovely tease on that 8th circle of Hell Pinterest: that perfectly lit, wonderfully focused photo of your dinner with the sprawling title “Delicious dinner in under 30 minutes!” You punctuate this with a little note under your own picture “Even my picky eater cleaned her plate.”

Sold. I need ideas. I need recipes. I need fast. I need to borrow your picky eater to believe in life after macaroni and cheese.

I click.

The top of your page is charming. It tells me I’ve arrived at the outskirts of Fast n’ Delicious Nirvana.

But any time I might have saved using your recipe I lose scrolling down past photos, life stories, and asides to get to the damn recipe.

And while I’m now completely caught up on how this was the dinner you cooked for your husband the third week you were married (and congratulations on his trivia team’s third place triumph), and I hope your Aunt Tilly gets well soon and can keep crocheting you those splendid hot dish pads —

I’m going back to my trusted allrecipes.com…as soon as I close all those pop-ups.