A Letter To My Kids...

[eatmisery]

Dear Children,

You both turned another month older last week. I can't believe how fast it's gone by. Jack, you're exactly two-and-a-half years old now. And, Liv, you're sixteen months old now. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. You're inseparable. Livie, you mimic your brother in every way possible. Everything he does, you do, too. And, Jack, you've discovered just how high your body can take you. I tell ya, there's never a dull moment in this house.

Jack, since you've discovered how to climb on every surface possible, I've had to save you many times from breaking your neck. It's not funny anymore. There will be no more standing on the kitchen table to try to reach the light. There will be no more teetering on the edge of the china cabinet in the living room. How the hell you get up there is anyone's guess. And please stop rolling my office chair over to the bookcases and the china cabinet in the office to get at things you're not supposed to touch. Office chairs aren't stable, but even if they were, I wouldn't condone this behavior. I also don't want you to stand on the bench in the dining room. You could fall through the bay window if you slip. I know you think it's terribly funny, but I have mini heart attacks every time I catch you doing these things. And you're so fast about it. When you see me walk into the bathroom, or go to wash a couple dishes, or change your sister's diaper, or start dinner, you're immediately finding something to get into that's dangerous. I beg you, please don't kill me with grief. You are my favorite son and something tells me you're a lot like how your Papa was when he was a boy. Just ask Grandma.

You've also developed quite an extensive vocabulary. Unfortunately, these words would include, "shit," "fuck" (your favorite, especially in restaurants), "goddammit," "sonofabitch," and "Jesus Christ!" That's our fault. You only say what you've heard a hundred times. I've been teaching you to say, "holy cow," "shoot," and "fudge." Now, use them. And please stop saying, "Fuck!" so loud when you're frustrated. We've been working really hard on "I need help," so please use that more often. While the English teacher in me appreciates the fact that you're saying it in the correct context, I can't help but think of how that's going to affect you if you ever play T-ball. God help me.

And Livie...you're such a great little dancer. And you're so smart. You have rhythm, you use all the hand movements for our children's songs, and you also know a little bit of sign language. However, you have got to stop falling off the bed and hitting your head. You're going to knock your smarts right out. And please stop screaming at people who look at you and say hello. You're giving everyone around you a complex. I'll admit, the man walking past you on the sidewalk at Grandma's was a little scary because he had three teeth missing from the front of his mouth. However, I bet you made him feel bad the rest of the day because you screamed as if he were trying to snatch you. He meant you no harm, my dear. You're pretty and people can't resist a baby with such a sparkling personality. They don't expect to hear Satan come out of your pretty little lips.

And you really need to stop trying to do everything your big brother does. He's getting into trouble lately and now you're trying to copy his actions. This means there will be no more jumping on the bed; no more trying to poke the dog's eyes out; no more throwing food from your highchair. This is not how a little lady behaves. I love you like an ant loves a melted lollipop sitting in the sun. I am so happy to have a daughter and I'm hoping you have a daughter of your own, just like you, someday. Heh.

Kids, I am happy to be your Mommy. You guys are keeping me young and fit. And I wouldn't trade you for ten million dollars. I have to remember to slow down and enjoy you while you're little because you won't be little for long. Life's too short to waste time wiping up all the spills and trying to find the Cheerios you threw all over the house. There's plenty of time to do that when you go to bed at night.

I love you!

Love,
Mommy.

[melwilliams2005]

Aug. 12, 2007 at 11:24 PM how adorable.  i think my kids will be the same.  they're 17 mo apart.  i can't wait to write something like this in their baby books!