Dearest children of mine,
Mommy really loves you. That goes without saying and is made readily apparent by the fact that I buy you things and feed you.
Mommy loves doing things with you. Like taking walks. Especially you, Gutsy. In the winter, with sleeping Spawnling and our friends. However, there are a few changes I'd like to make: For example, running outside in your hoodie, snowsuit and boots is NOT proper winter attire. Climbing up every single snowbank will turn a 7 minute walk into a 30 minute walk, leaving you too tired and everyone too cold for you to do much playing at the park.
Oh. And it's so not cool when you collapse in a screaming lump of hissy fit madness when I say it's time to go. Crawling through the snow yelling 'MOMMY!!! MOMMY!!! I DON'T WANT TO GO!!' and waking up the babies leaves mommy embarrassed.
Mommy loves you, but doesn't love being embarrassed. Can you understand the difference?
(Also, mommy needs to remember that strollers need shovelled areas to, erm, stroll on. So, say, if the park is not shovelled or plowed, one might have to wait on the side of the road with one's tired, cold friend and our tired, cold, semi-sleeping, semi-screaming infants. That's after the 30 minute walk there, of course. And then, she might have to carry you home while her friend carries her preschooler home, finding very creative ways to balance you both on the strollers. That leaves mommy almost too tired to blog, but I digress.)
Mommy loves doing other things with the three of you, like listening to music. She thinks Raffi is pretty fly, too. However, break-dancing and jumping off the ottoman through all 19 songs makes for a little less quiet than she had originally anticipated. Listening to music is supposed to be a relaxing activity to help us unwind at the end of the day and not a dance audition for the next big boy band.
Mommy loves to cook for you. She likes it when we all sit down together as a family and enjoy the delicious and nutritious food she's prepared while juggling all your various needs throughout. Gutsy, that means that when it's time to eat, you do not run downstairs to watch a television show and then have mommy follow you down to demand that you turn it off. You do not start screaming and crying in full-out protest, throwing yourself on the carpet like you've just been impaled with a sharp object. You do not follow your mother while crawling on the floor, screaming incomprehensible things at her. You are right, however, in stopping short when she says 'Who, exactly, do you think you're talking to? There's no way it's me, because I'm your mother and you KNOW you're not supposed go there.'
I'm teaching you these things because there is a good chance that you'll have a wife one day. And if you start getting all bitchy with her and she gives you that exact tone, you'll know that it's best to shut right up and mumble something apologetic. You may not realize it now, but I'm saving your marriage.
You're welcome, sweety.
Spawnling, we need to talk, too. Mommy loves to hold you and play with you. It's just that you need to grasp the concept that you are the third child and not the first. Intrepid had a lot of attention beause he was my only. Gutsy had a lot of attention because he came six years after his brother and was the only one home all day with me.
You, my little surprise, are unfortunately last in line and will get the least amount of mommy-baby one-on-one time. Sad, but true. There are three little gremlins lurking around The Maven household. Ergo, you must learn to occupy yourself on your playmat or in the swing a bit more.
If you don't, I will not be able to cook nutritious food or clean the house.
If I don't clean the house we'll all die of some new superbug that will form in the depths of the unwashed laundry.
If we don't eat nutritious food we'll develop scurvy.
Neither of these things will enhance our family life in any way. Nor will they get you more time with me. Especially if I'm a dead, scurvy-ridden corpse.
Intrepid, mommy loves you because you're so easy going and helpful. You were the biggest handful out of the three by far when you were little, but you more than make up for it now. So much so that I called the circus back and told them we were going to keep you. You give me hope for the other two.
In short, mommy loves all three of you and never goes a single day without thanking the Powers That Be for giving me the joy of raising you.
Besides, Raffi would probably be impressed that you can breakdance and stage dive to his stuff. It gives him an air of coolness he's been lacking for a while. Maybe he can go on tour with Green Day now.
Sincerely,
Your worn out but still kicking around mom.
Mommy really loves you. That goes without saying and is made readily apparent by the fact that I buy you things and feed you.
Mommy loves doing things with you. Like taking walks. Especially you, Gutsy. In the winter, with sleeping Spawnling and our friends. However, there are a few changes I'd like to make: For example, running outside in your hoodie, snowsuit and boots is NOT proper winter attire. Climbing up every single snowbank will turn a 7 minute walk into a 30 minute walk, leaving you too tired and everyone too cold for you to do much playing at the park.
Oh. And it's so not cool when you collapse in a screaming lump of hissy fit madness when I say it's time to go. Crawling through the snow yelling 'MOMMY!!! MOMMY!!! I DON'T WANT TO GO!!' and waking up the babies leaves mommy embarrassed.
Mommy loves you, but doesn't love being embarrassed. Can you understand the difference?
(Also, mommy needs to remember that strollers need shovelled areas to, erm, stroll on. So, say, if the park is not shovelled or plowed, one might have to wait on the side of the road with one's tired, cold friend and our tired, cold, semi-sleeping, semi-screaming infants. That's after the 30 minute walk there, of course. And then, she might have to carry you home while her friend carries her preschooler home, finding very creative ways to balance you both on the strollers. That leaves mommy almost too tired to blog, but I digress.)
Mommy loves doing other things with the three of you, like listening to music. She thinks Raffi is pretty fly, too. However, break-dancing and jumping off the ottoman through all 19 songs makes for a little less quiet than she had originally anticipated. Listening to music is supposed to be a relaxing activity to help us unwind at the end of the day and not a dance audition for the next big boy band.
Mommy loves to cook for you. She likes it when we all sit down together as a family and enjoy the delicious and nutritious food she's prepared while juggling all your various needs throughout. Gutsy, that means that when it's time to eat, you do not run downstairs to watch a television show and then have mommy follow you down to demand that you turn it off. You do not start screaming and crying in full-out protest, throwing yourself on the carpet like you've just been impaled with a sharp object. You do not follow your mother while crawling on the floor, screaming incomprehensible things at her. You are right, however, in stopping short when she says 'Who, exactly, do you think you're talking to? There's no way it's me, because I'm your mother and you KNOW you're not supposed go there.'
I'm teaching you these things because there is a good chance that you'll have a wife one day. And if you start getting all bitchy with her and she gives you that exact tone, you'll know that it's best to shut right up and mumble something apologetic. You may not realize it now, but I'm saving your marriage.
You're welcome, sweety.
Spawnling, we need to talk, too. Mommy loves to hold you and play with you. It's just that you need to grasp the concept that you are the third child and not the first. Intrepid had a lot of attention beause he was my only. Gutsy had a lot of attention because he came six years after his brother and was the only one home all day with me.
You, my little surprise, are unfortunately last in line and will get the least amount of mommy-baby one-on-one time. Sad, but true. There are three little gremlins lurking around The Maven household. Ergo, you must learn to occupy yourself on your playmat or in the swing a bit more.
If you don't, I will not be able to cook nutritious food or clean the house.
If I don't clean the house we'll all die of some new superbug that will form in the depths of the unwashed laundry.
If we don't eat nutritious food we'll develop scurvy.
Neither of these things will enhance our family life in any way. Nor will they get you more time with me. Especially if I'm a dead, scurvy-ridden corpse.
Intrepid, mommy loves you because you're so easy going and helpful. You were the biggest handful out of the three by far when you were little, but you more than make up for it now. So much so that I called the circus back and told them we were going to keep you. You give me hope for the other two.
In short, mommy loves all three of you and never goes a single day without thanking the Powers That Be for giving me the joy of raising you.
Besides, Raffi would probably be impressed that you can breakdance and stage dive to his stuff. It gives him an air of coolness he's been lacking for a while. Maybe he can go on tour with Green Day now.
Sincerely,
Your worn out but still kicking around mom.