Thursday, October 10, 2013

Dear Kids (An Open Letter to My Offspring)...

Dear The Girl and The Ginger,

My beautiful babies. Well, you aren't technically babies anymore. At the golden ages of 11 and almost 9, I can't help but wonder where the years went. It seems like just yesterday I was diapering your behinds and squishing your chubby cheeks. Now? Now I just look around at your class assemblies and think,

"Hell YES I'm like the youngest mom here!!"

It's true. Because I chose to marry at 18 and have the two of you at 21 and 23, I'm now in this very small bracket of people in their early 30s with pre-teen kids. Most people my age have younger kids, and most parents of kids your age are in their late 30s, early 40s.

So, for that, I thank you. Thank you for making me a mother when you did, because now at 32, I am able to seriously rock the mom-of-older-kids thing, and it feels great!

Now it's time to address a few things, my loves. Just a few. It wouldn't be like me to rattle off an entire list of things we need to talk about, would it?

(Snickering) Yeah, okay, you got me. That's exactly what I'd do. So, let's get to it, shall we?


1. Zoning in on one line of a song and singing it over and over and over again- Not cool. You'd think me telling you every single time you do this that it's annoying as hell would have changed the behavior by now. It has not. So, now it's on blast here on my blog. 9 times out of 10, I actually enjoy the song you are singing while you do the dishes. But then you hit that favorite line, and the song is instantly added to the Makes My Ears Bleed list of songs that encompasses most of today's music anyway. So please, for the sake of my ears, cut that crap out.

2. Your bathroom smells like death... wrapped in a burrito... with extra puke sauce on the side. Seriously, exactly what do you do in your bathroom that causes it to smell that way? Do I need to be worried about animal sacrifices going on in the tub that you don't clean up properly afterwards? Do you actually aim for the toilet when you go to use it, or is hovering (for you, Girl) and a general vicinity (for you, Ginger) good enough for y'all? I used to clean your bathroom- do you remember those days? Then I got
tired of trudging through numerous pairs of sweat pants and dirty underwear (seriously, y'all have your own bedrooms to change in, complete with dirty laundry baskets) on the floor and trying to get toothpaste off of the ceiling. You're on your own now. I'll come clean the bathtub, but that's it.

3. 80s movies do NOT suck. When it comes around to my night to pick the family movie, I always get agitated sounds and snide comments when I go to pick out a classic like Monster Squad or Adventures in Babysitting. Then, what happens? You find yourself laughing and.. GASP!!!... enjoying the movie. What? You mean Mom's movie taste doesn't suck? At the end of the movie, y'all are both smiling and saying, "That was a pretty good movie." Duh. Because 80s movies are the best movies ever. So, how about we just bypass the barf sounds and the comments that piss me off, and go straight to Mom Was Right. It's where we end up in every other scenario possible, anyway.

4. If I didn't birth the kid, don't trust them. I don't want y'all growing up as these untrusting, cynical people, but honestly, if the person wasn't raised in this family, wasn't birthed out of my va... and isn't a blood relative, don't trust them. Ginger- we've already had run-ins with several kids your age stealing your Legos and then saying they were theirs the entire time, which is why you no longer are allowed to take toys outside. And The Girl- we've had problems with people you thought were your friends spreading rumors about you or just disappearing altogether. Both of these scenarios should teach y'all that other people have to earn your trust, and until they earn that trust, they are not to be trusted. If I can only do one thing successfully as your mother, I hope that it's to teach you to respect yourself, your things, and those who respect you. If they don't earn your trust and respect, then don't waste time on them.
Yep. This. Photo Courtesy

5. The spot on the far right of the couch is mine- stop trying to take it. Seriously, I will go all Sheldon on you if you sit in my spot. It's bad enough that when I get up, the puppy goes and snags it. I don't need a puppy fighting a kid (like has happened more times than I care to admit) in my spot when I get back. And when we announce that it's Family Movie Night, yelling, "Dibs on the couch!!" does not count. There are no Dibs on my spot on the couch... except for my Dibs, of course. I don't see y'all trying to steal your dad's recliner when he gets up- and don't give me that crap about how he farts in his chair so you don't want to sit in it. Farts can not get stuck in recliner fabric... I don't think.

Know that I love y'all no matter what, even when you are stealing my spot on the couch.

My heart always,
Mom

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