A Letter to My Children

July 7, 2011

in Confessions

Dear sons,

There are several changes that are going to be made around this house starting right now.

1. There will be no more "I'm bored" statements. You have thousands of toys. I know. I pick them up. It takes forever. We are drowning in toys. In fact, I just bought a new Wii game a couple weeks ago that cost $50. You are not bored. You lack imagination. This is why all electronics (except for those belonging to mommy) have been unplugged and debatteried.

2. There will be no more complaining about what is served for dinner. I'm not making exotic and complicated dishes here. You like spaghetti and popcorn shrimp. I made dishes dirty by cooking you a healthy meal. EAT IT!!!!! If you continue to complain, you will be served nothing but apples and peanut butter sandwiches for the rest of your life, or until you get married. And I may even tell your future wife not to feed you anything else either.

3. There will be no more sneaking food at night. I am completely worn out when I wake up in the morning to find that since you didn't eat your dinner you snuck juice boxes and pop tarts while I was sleeping. As I have to sleep at some point, I have posted a three headed dragon in the doorway to the kitchen. OK, so I didn't. However, I will be going to Home Depot this weekend to find cabinet and fridge locks. So there.

4. You are not helpless. I am not your servant. Little Brother, you are three and a half years old. I do not expect you to be able to put your shoes and socks on or pour your own chocolate milk. However, I do expect that by now you are fully capable of pulling your shorts and underwear down to use the potty and back up when you are done. It isn't rocket science. Crying to me or your teacher that you can't do it isn't going to happen anymore.

You can go get your own blanket from your room and bring it to the living room if that's where you want it. You can carry an entire set of wooden blocks from your room to my room to make an unholy mess. A blanket or pillow is not nearly as heavy as a box of blocks. You can cry all you want. I am wearing ear plugs.

5. Big Brother, you will stop talking incessantly. I do not need a play by play of everything you are doing. You talk like Dora. You yell everything. It is ok for no one to be talking for a few minutes. Then again, I'm wearing ear plugs. Talk away, just don't get mad if I don't respond to you.

6. Getting up in the morning is a fact of life. This is why I told you to go to bed at night. From now on if you don't get up and get dressed, you won't get breakfast. Then again, you ate all the pop tarts in the middle of the night so there isn't anything for breakfast anyway. Sorry.

7. Speaking of bedtime, when I put you to bed at 8:30, which I think is generous since you have to get up at 7:00, that means go to bed. It doesn't mean cry and complain that you had one more thing to do. I thought you were bored anyway. It also doesn't mean stay up until midnight. This is why you are beasts in the morning.
 Go the *#@! to sleep!

8. There will be no more speaking rudely to me. You have to eat healthy food before dessert. You have to go to bed every night. You have to get dressed for school, even if it is summer camp. I have not hurt your feelings by any of these things. When you say you aren't complaining about bedtime or abut having to turn the Wii off, but you are complaining about me, it doesn't help your cause. From now on, if you speak rudely to me, I will stick my fingers in my ears and invoke the, "I'm not listening to you" defense. Then again, it may be hard to stick my fingers in my ears because I am wearing ear plugs.

9. No more Lady Gaga.

10. I love you to pieces. I hope that someday, after you have kids of your own and you realize just how much of your stubborness and determination your kids have inherited, you will come around. By the way, sorry mom. :)

{ 13 comments }

Head Ant July 7, 2011 at 6:25 pm

You are my new best friend. Seriously.
If I hear one more "it's yucky" or "i don't know how" in response to things they've eaten or done millions of times, I'm joining the circus.

Debra Elliott July 7, 2011 at 6:30 pm

Great post! I need to borrow your set of rules for my 7 year old.

Shell July 7, 2011 at 6:40 pm

I used to have fridge locks- b/c my boys will eat everything in the middle of the night. And then they broke it. It's ridiculous!!!
A lot of this letter could be to my boys, too.

Minivan Mama July 7, 2011 at 7:19 pm

The "I'm bored" thing drives me crazy!

abi July 7, 2011 at 8:42 pm

AMEN. The end.

Georgia Girls July 7, 2011 at 8:57 pm

Awesome! I loved it. :D 

Soonerchick July 7, 2011 at 11:03 pm

I would swear you have been living in my house, except I have three boys, not two.  But by the end of this post I was convinced you have been living inside my head, seeing what I see, hearing what I hear, and feeling how I feel.  
The fact that your boys act absolutely identical to mine in every respect that you mentioned in this letter makes me want to scream  at the heavens "YES! Someone out there DOES understand!" 

mom2kiddos July 8, 2011 at 1:00 am

Hahaha, I should write a letter like that to my kids too!

Jonah Gibson July 8, 2011 at 8:10 am

"It is ok for no one to be talking for a few minutes."
Beautiful! 

Lazidaisical July 10, 2011 at 5:14 pm

Haha! Thank you for giving me a glimpse of what I have to look forward to in a year and a half!

Beth July 12, 2011 at 12:13 am

Too great.  You have such a punctual writing style.  Excellent.

M July 12, 2011 at 9:14 am

This was absolutely wonderful. Smart, sharp, and definitely realistic. 

Christy Addison Fawcett via Facebook November 27, 2011 at 10:32 pm

Still love it!

Comments on this entry are closed.

Previous post:

Next post: