Sure, I’ve had to have it replaced (I’m on my fourth, but feeling optimistic). And it’s not great when you leave town and find yourself at the whim of the data-roaming packages. And the pictures are lame, at best. But still….I’m a loyal user. A true blue iPhoner.

Unlike those with crackberries, I wouldn’t call myself addicted. I don’t email at meals. I don’t text ‘n drive. And aside from a little show ‘n share with other Mac Daddies ‘n moms, I pretty much have the whole etiquette/right time-right place thing down.

Or, rather, I did. And then a friend invited me to play an innocent game of Words With Friends. And I told two friends. Who told two friends. And so on. And so on. And so on.

And everything changed. Those who know, know it all too well. They understand my pain and longing for one. more. turn. And those who don’t – beware. Basically, it’s Scrabble. Plain and simple. Only instead of sitting across from your competitors, waiting for them to hurry up and play already, you carry on with your day and everyone just plays as and when.

Sounds harmless, right? Riiiiight. Let’s just say that it can be. One of my mates is working nights. In England. So I’m awake while she’s at work. What could be better? But the rest of my games are E.S.T. And they’re getting more vicious by the hour. It’s reached the point where I’m making mental notes about good words to use. I see triple word scores as I fall asleep. I’ve learned that “heeze”, “vag” and “thio” count. “Zoot” does not, no matter how many times I try. “X” and “Q” are always great. Gimme an “I” and it’s points galore. “J” and “K” not so much.

I have friends with whom I chat at least 4 times a day. And we talk about our games. My mother sends me messages mid-game, berating me for not playing faster. Another pal and I stayed up past midnight, desperate to finish our match. Just so we could start another one. Which of course we did, and then proceeded to stay up so we could finish that one etc.

At one point I went rogue – and started up a game with a total stranger. I don’t know which was worse – the feeling that I could be playing with some kind of creep, or the fear that this potential creep would kick my ass. Either way, I got too stressed and ended it after one round. And then returned to my usual suspects.

I went away with a couple of friends and it was all we could do to not play against each other – in the same room!! Instead, we poured a couple drinks and played real scrabble. Sure, it was fun – especially when we used our iPhones to look up questionable words – but it took sooooo long.

I’ve tried to stop, I really have. Sometimes it feels like I’m just making words up, testing the gadget to see if it’ll bust me. It always does. But once in a while, it allows me to get away with words I never knew existed!! Good times! And now my Man has come over to the dark side. He’s gone and got himself an iPad. It’s cool. It’s slick. It’s downright magnificent. He says it’s for work.

I say it’s for Words.

Berg. Orb. Haw. Ugh. Heh.

Game on – gotta run.

TV=bad. TV=fat. TV=ADD.

Until I had a baby. And then another one. Suddenly, there was a new god in town, a new kind of salvation. We called it the television. No, not just because I was home with my pvr every night. No, the tube was a godsend. A babysitter. A drug.

Need a break? TV. A rest? TV. A potential punishment? No TV.

And just when we’d finally got a handle on the TV situation, my older son asked me for a Game Cube.

A game cube? Huh? He’s 4. he barely knows his own address. What does he know from Game Cubes?

No, no, no.

Video games=bad. Video games=fat. Video games=ADD.

Until my boys were old enough, there was no way I was going to succumb.

Erm, until I did.

No, we don’t have a Game Cube. Yet.

We got a Leappad. It was a gift, and I was able to justify it. My neices loved their Leappads when they were little and look how clever and well-behaved they are. Besides, it’s basically reading. But with a stylus. And sounds. So my son was hooked. It’s essentially an interactive book, not a dreaded video game. No harm done.

And then we got a LeapFrog Word Launch. I stared at my husband in terror: A VIDEO GAME. He rubbed his hands with glee. He is, after all, a computer geek and all-round tech-whore.

He ripped open the package and the world as I knew ended. the Word Launch launched us into the video age. Imagine the sheer joy of a kid as he learns this wasn’t just TV, wasn’t just a toy – this was a toy you played on the TV. A real, live video game.

The first day we plugged it in, I fumed. I stamped my feet. I was disgusted – with myself, my husband and of course my kids. It was the end of the innocence. So long 4-year old, hello rated-T-for-teen. It was probably a matter of months before he slunk off to the mall, pants below his crack. God help us all.

But then a funny thing happened – and by funny, I mean funny for us: we plugged the thing in and it asked us….I mean, my son…to spell a word. And the word was “hump”. For those who know my boy, they know he’ll stop, drop and roll on dime. Humping is his thang. Always has been. (Apparently normal…) So to learn to spell it was a highlight for him. And the fact that the first word was, ahem, hump, was a highlight for me.

And then, get this – the next word was “dump”. I SWEAR! Who needs primetime when we’ve got this? Fun for the whole family! Granted, the words that followed were less thrilling – for us – but I noticed a little something. My son wanted to spell. Not that he knew it. Poor soul thought he was rebelling with his video game. Sure we had some fun spelling out dirty words – look, if given the choice, it’s hard to resist. But for the most part, it was good, clean fun. And now the guy was coming home from school wanting to word launch! Who could argue with that? No annoying characters or songs (Diego tunes aside, o’course), no muss, no fuss, no guns. This game rocked.

And despite all media evidence to the contrary, he’s learning a lot. And listening. And being, well, a good boy. Especially now that I have another “privilege” to dangle over his head.

Thank you, Leap Frog…

Imagine the harmonious house I’ll have when he asks for a Wii!