August 05, 2011

From the Vault

I'm away this weekend at the crazyness that is the annual BlogHer Conference in San Diego. I'm having a ridiculous amount of fun, meeting tons of interesting people and learning lots, but I'm missing my munchkins! They are each going through some really cute stages right now. Today's post is one from the vault designed to remind me of why I needed and deserved this break! Enjoy!


An Open Letter To My Children:

Dear children,

It goes without saying that I love each of you immensely. I love each of you for vastly different reasons, since you are all such neat, little people with your own big personalities. I may be biased, but I think that you are three of the most beautiful children in the world. You are amazing, you are wonderful, you give my life so much purpose, blah, blah, blah.

Now that that is out of the way, let's get down to business. I am laying out some new rules around here. The following are effective immediately.

1. My name is Mom. Not mooooo-ooooom. Not momm-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Nor any other variation where you whiningly exaggerate any part of my name. If you expect me to answer, you may call me "Mom" "Mommy" or "Your Majesty" from here on out.

2. I am not a short order cook. If you want to eat, you will eat what I cook when I cook it. Do not say "Gross, will you make me some chicken nuggets instead?" The answer is "NO!" I am not McDonald's.

3. Do not complain to me that your favorite purple shirt, dinosaur pajamas, or cozy jeans are not clean. You are welcome to do the laundry anytime you like.

4. Some toys can not be glued back together. Don't freak out about it, just stop breaking stuff to begin with.

5. You may not have friends over every single day. I don't care how much you cry and talk about how bored you are. I am not a babysitting service for stray children!

6. This one is just for Miles: DO NOT SPIT! One of these days I may just surprise you and spit back. And I spit like a cobra- look out. You've been warned,

7. Banish the words, "He hit me," "Can I have a snack, again" "He's poking me!" and "You never let me do anything fun!" from your vocabulary. Those words serve no purpose except to make Mommy blow her stack real quick.

8. When you see smoke start to come out of my ears and eyes- RUN! Do not stick around and keep pestering me.

9. Do not throw a fit when it is green shirt with yellow polka dots and blue stripes day at school and I refuse to go buy you a new outfit to fit into the corresponding color day. I will gladly cut out construction paper polka dots and stripes and safety pin them to your shirt, but I will not go buy a new one.

10. Do not ask me for a quarter every time you see a machine full of junk at the exit to a restaurant. If I have to pick up one more tiny man attached to a defective parachute or one more plastic ring that is split in half, I will scream.

11. You must use toilet paper when you go to the bathroom. When I walk in the bathroom and see a "surprise" left in the toilet and no toilet paper, I will get suspicious. Do not lie to me when I ask if you wiped your butt.

12. When I say, "Come here, let me wipe your nose/change your diaper/give you your medicine/clean your face", do NOT run in the other direction. I will hunt you down. And even though I am old and 25 pounds overweight, I will beat you in a foot race around the living room any day of the week.

13. Don't run away with my cell phone. I know that playing "Angry Birds" on the iPhone is super fun, but it is mine and I don't share my technology very well.

14. If I find any more of those plastic popsicle wrappers in inappropriate places, I will make a lifelong permanent ban on popsicles. Just FYI- life can go on without popsicles. You will not die. I promise.

15. Stop beating the crud out of each other while I am on the phone. The phone ringing is not your cue to become Kung Fu warriors.

16. Do not wipe your nose on the couch. Or the bedspread. Or the bathmat. Or in my hair.

17. When you spill something on the carpet, please tell me. I will gladly help you wipe it up. Do not pretend like it didn't happen and then 3 days later confess when I freak out that our whole house smells like mildew.

18. My checkbook is not a drawing pad. Neither are the walls, the refrigerator or the cabinets.

19. The living room curtains are not tug-o-war ropes. Do. Not. Touch.

20. Last but not least: Stop growing up. Stay little. Stay sweet and innocent. I love you all just the way your are at just the ages you are right this minute. This may be the hardest rule to follow, but try really hard on this one, okay?

Love,

Mom (aka- Your Majesty)

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