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Thursday, August 9, 2012

Dearest Children

Dearest Children,

I know this is going to be very hard to understand, since your brains are now currently the size of a lime and orange, but let's give it a try, shall we.

Though it may seem so, mommy was not put on this planet simply to feed, entertain, clothe, bathe, rock, wipe the ass of, clear out the boogers of, clean up after and all around cater to the likes of you.

Before you two were painfully summoned from my loins, mommy actually had a mind of her own and a spare minute to do frivolous things like use the bathroom alone and eat a complete meal that did not consist of anything with the words "mac" or "nugget" in them. I was able to do silly things like go to Target without having every item in my cart being followed by a 20-minute Spanish inquisition consisting solely of the question, "Why."

Crazily enough, before the two of you were born, I was even able to leave the house without having to change my outfit six times because it has acquired a certain amount of vomit, yogurt or bodily fluids. Thanks for sharing, BTW. Back in BC (before children), I changed my outfit six times just to see which one my ass looked best in. Now, it is just a prophecy that my ass will never look good in anything again, well, besides a Lazy-boy and a pair of sweatpants.

Anyway, thank you for not even pretending to listen and instead asking me if you can have another cereal bar, watch Elmo, go outside, have some milk, have some water, have a yogurt, watch Yo Gabba Gabba and then repeating from the beginning. Your time is much appreciated.

Sincerely yours,



  1. Bwahahahahahaha!

    Very, very funny!

    I drafted something similar when I was pregnant, it was an open letter to the dude who lives with me and married me and knocked me up 3 times. It was along the lines of dude I can't be responsible for anyone not living inside my body right now so leave me alone and help with the other two howler monkeys we call daughters.

  2. So. F-ing. True. My little terrorist has been driving me to drink (shut up, that is the excuse I'm going with) by asking me "why" eleventy-thousand times a minute. He won't even accept a defeated "I don't know" as an answer. And now, a beautiful thing has recently developed where he gives up and says "fine, I'll do it myself!" when I don't immediately drop what I am doing to tend to his tireless needs. Um, yeah! Isn't that what I have been repeatedly asking you to do? Do it yourself for a change? Sigh.

    1. I may or may not have said under my breath at one time, "shut up or I will beat the 'why' out of you." kidding, of course.

    2. Oh, the whys! I told the boy to stop starting every sentence with "Why." Now he uses the variations "I don't know why..." and "Can you please tell me why..." Smart ass.

  3. Lol. I was just complaining this morning that I'm pretty sure I left the house yesterday with pee on me. Does it count if you're not sure? I felt like I could smell it. I guess I could've changed, but didn't bother. Oh boy.

  4. True, this! I think we're going for the world record at my house for shortest period of time after a meal before someone announces they're hungry. I'm thinking of investing in a "kitchen closed" sign.

  5. Bahaha! There are no other books or websites in the world that could better prepare me for children than your blog. My ass, too, looks awesome in a La-Z-Boy and a pair of sweatpants.


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