Dear Spawnling,
I'm so glad you like your hat. It's very nice. I picked it out because it says 'Kahunah' on the front and I found it rather fitting.
I, however, like the skin on your head to get air circulation. You wear that ball cap all day every day, despite how the plaid design clashes with other patterns you might be sporting. To prove this to you, I took a picture. Please do the right thing and either take the hat off sometimes, or wear the right colours and buy a toupee for future use.
While we're at it, could we talk about a few other things? How about nursing? Let's discuss how I would like my breasts back. They are mine. I know this because they are attached to my body. You are only borrowing them. You've had them for 32 months and your lease is nearly up. Please return the items to an affiliated breast dealership with only normal wear and tear present.
It is my understanding that you are putting up a fight about keeping the breasts for yourself. Please be aware that this is not an option - there is no buy-out plan available to you at this time. If you continue to use them for much longer, I fear they may shrivel up and become concave, being of no use to anyone, let alone you. I highly recommend you move to a newer model of lactation device, known as a cup. You may have taken one out on a test drive during the day but are apprehensive about using it full-time. As your nutritional adviser, I can help ease the transition with only minimal crying and flailing around the bed.
We hope.
Speaking of throwing yourself about, could we work on cutting back the screamfests? Yesterday, I decided to count how many times you burst into tears while doing one of the following things:
- throwing yourself on the floor
- throwing something around a room
- throwing something in my general direction
- calling me 'stupid mommy'
- telling me I'm a 'bad boy'
- pointing your finger at me as your face turns beet red and you do that all-over body shake that makes me realize how cute and funny your rage is
One or more of those things in combination constitutes a tantrum. And, my darling, you threw nine of them yesterday. Nine. And four of them already today. I can read a calendar, you know. I can count, too. Therefore, there is absolutely no need to prove that you are two-and-a-half.
If love between mother and child is unconditional, why do I feel so near my breaking point? The twigs are snapping all over Sanity Forest.
After your nap we will go buy flowers for the garden. You will be very well behaved, unlike this morning. You will instantly outgrow whatever phase you're going through and be the nice, happy listener that I'm accustomed to. You will stand by my side, smile politely at the staff and not pull any heads off the shrubs. I will not have to yell 'Come back here!' or 'Don't hit that lady in the wheelchair!'
It will be a fresh start to our new found synchronicity.
Snap!
There goes another one.
Sincerely,
Mom