January Letters

Dear Pinterest,

Santa brought the kids a big box of crayons for Christmas.  I threw out the dull, broken, wrapper-less ones, just like that, right in the trash.  I'm sure that the Queens of Pinterest uttered a collective gasp at all of the melted-crayon art that I didn't make with my children.  But since I don't have beachy-waved hair, a fourth fingernail painted in a contrasting color, or a children's playroom that looks like a page from a fairy tale story, I guess I'm a disappointment to the Queens anyway, so what the heck.

A pinner (although I'm not sure why)

...

Dear Tyler,

Telling your Primary teacher about the board on our wall that reads "Good moms have sticky floors, laundry piles, messy kitchens, dirty ovens, and happy kids" kind of let out the secret that our house is a disaster all the time.  What you failed to mention is that we are still working on the happy kids part.

Yo mama

...

Dear January First,

Last year I didn't set a single resolution, perhaps because I knew that I shouldn't if I wanted 100% on my annual report card.  However, a few days ago, we sat down with the kids and set goals as a family.  Some of my favorites: "Be less crazy" (Gavin), "Stay in my own bed" (Lexi); "Use the potty" (Kate, of course); Run a 10k" (Zach); and "Stop screaming" (Tyler).  As for me, I think my goal should be the "happy kids" previously mentioned, which might require being a different person.  I'll see what I can do.

This year's begrudging resolution maker

...

Dear Honda,

I have some innovation suggestions, which I would like retrofitted to my current vehicle.  Please equip the rear seats in my van with sensors that monitor seat belt usage and stay-in-your-seat-ness (I am sure you can come up with better terminology).  In other words, I need to know when my children's seat belts are not plugged in, and when their rear ends are not firmly planted in their seats.  Just like a warning beep sounds when the front passenger is clearly in the seat but not wearing a belt, I would like an audible alert when my children are not complying with safety regulations.  Muzzles that drop from the ceiling like air masks in airplanes would also be awesome.

An Odyssey owner
...

Dear Christmas tree,

I'm always glad to see you go, but when I remove the ornaments from your stiff and brittle branches, I always sing (in my head, because to do so out loud would be embarrassing) "I Cry the Day I Take the Tree Down," a silly Michael McLean ballad that I really don't like.  I also imagine my sister dramatically singing it with me, and laughing because the song is ridiculous.  Sorry, Mike.

A sometimes sentimentalist

P.S. I think I'm ready for a fake tree.

...

Dear To-Do list,

You are keeping me focused and helping me get things done.  However, this year I plan to read a book called "Hands-free Mama," which I think will tell me I need to throw you away.  I guess I'd better check things off at a faster pace before I read the book.  Haha.  Except not.

Hurrying

...

Dear boys,

Remember the other week when I decided to clean all the bathrooms and you complained that you had other Saturday chores instead?  Every time I scrub pee off the walls I remember that day and wonder why in the world you'd rather clean a bathroom than vacuum.

The maid

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Dear side chairs,

I don't know what I was thinking when I bought you two for five bucks a couple of months ago.  Why on earth did I think I was capable of a re-upholstery project?  Good grief.  I'm up to my neck now, so I just need to keep swimming until you're all purple and pretty.  I'm glad you'll sit in my living room as a testament of my insanity so I will never, ever do such a thing again.

The dreamer-turned-realist

...

Dear Kate,

The nail polish and my medicine now live on the top shelf of my closet.  I am not willing to relocate my makeup to such a place, and the pantry and the faucets just aren't move-able.  There's no such thing as "high enough" in this house, so I'd thank you kindly to just leave stuff alone and stop making the walls and the floor and your body your canvas.  And seriously, if you strip the sheets off my bed one more time, you'll never come out of your room again.

Mama

...

Dear children,

FOR THE ONE THOUSAND MILLIONTH TIME, YOU MAY NOT TAKE FOOD TO THE BASEMENT. EVER.

The Management

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Dear Holly,

You are in England and your birthday is in 7 days.  I have a cute/awesome birthday package for you on my counter, where it has been for a week, because I hate the post office with a burning passion in my heart, and I have to go there and stand in a really long line to mail an international package.  I actually attempted once and then realized I left my wallet at home, and another time and I didn't have the right customs form. I might just save your gift until you return from your mission in August. Sorry.

Your lame sister

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Dear Garry,

The house is freezing during the day so I wear a sweatshirt and sometimes wrap up in a blanket.  But then at night I'm hot, and that is why I turn on the ceiling fan.  I'm sorry you have to turn it off every night when you come to bed, and then still shiver all night because you are cold.  We could be poster children for Opposites Attract (cue Paula Abdul).

Your opposite in every possible way

...

Dear house,

Every year after Christmas I get an itch to change things around.  You might get a little dizzy with the rearranging of picture frames and knick knacks, and you might miss the things I inevitably purge in the process.  I think the newly decorated living room wall (courtesy of the master bedroom) looks spectacular.  I love color.  The end.

Wanna-be decorator

...

Dear face/body,

I am 34 years old, which is approximately 20 years too old to have acne.  Seriously, get with the program. Wrinkles and zits are not a winning combination.  Thankfully I paid someone this week to hide the gray in my hair.

Annoyed

...

Dear Memorial Health System,

A couple of weeks ago you called to inform me that I was late on a medical payment, which I was not. Even though I knew I was right, I made a payment over the phone so you wouldn't send my account to collections.  A few days ago a statement arrived in the mail, and it said I owe you
-$44.72.  So really, YOU owe ME, and I WAS right.  What I find most amusing is that it will take 8-10 weeks to process the refund, but if I'm one day late with a payment, you sick the vultures on me.  Nice work.

Not deliquent

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Dear Garden of the Gods,

I'm sorry that my motley crew was such a spectacle when we visited your majestic wonder today.  I thought the wide open spaces would absorb some of their noise and misbehavior, but instead we earned gawking stares and a comment or two about their dangerous leaping from rocks.  At least Tyler didn't really lose my keys, as we initially thought, and we weren't locked out of the car when we wanted to leave.  I'm pretty sure that after another five minutes the nearest rock formation would have crumbled around us just to stop the crying.

THAT mom

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Dear Happier at Home book on my nightstand,

When I sent myself to time-out today, I intended to read quietly until I had to return to real life.  However, you were the only book to be found in my room, and since I was locked in because of dramatically tempestuous offspring, I really didn't need a lecture from you.

Rebellious anti-reader

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Dear Krista,

Thank you for turning a year older today, which warranted my annual phone call, and thank you for being home when I dialed (from time-out).  Talking to you was a high point during a hard day, and I love you for it. And also for being you.  I wish Boise was a suburb of Colorado Springs.

Your long-lost soul sister

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Dear 2014,

I want you to be fabulous.  I know that a lot of that depends on my attitude and world view or whatever, but you've gotta give me something to work with.  I'm not creative, and I'm not a good actor, and my track record the last few years isn't so hot.  Can you help a girl out?

Hopeful