Dear Children,
I want to take a moment to express how proud I am to be your parent. Truly, it’s a privilege. Raising four spirited children like you brings me immense joy, and I wholeheartedly enjoy many facets of our life together. Your intelligence and kindness fill my heart with a happiness that is difficult to articulate.
However, dear ones, your penchant for destruction has tested my patience to its limits. In response, I have constructed a mental sanctuary—a “mind palace,” if you will—where I can escape. Picture this: a quaint white cottage, expertly decorated, overlooking the ocean, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers, secured by a charming white picket fence. In this serene space, there are no toys or chaotic remnants of your play—just the gentle sound of waves, a warm breeze, and tranquility.
I find solace in this imagined haven each time you damage a part of our home. This cottage features warm hues, expansive windows, and pristine furnishings, with a tastefully arranged coffee table adorned with elegant glass objects and books. Silence is sacred, and in my mind, it reigns supreme.
Yet, reality comes crashing back when I open my eyes to find my hallway flooded with three inches of toilet water, a result of your latest mischief involving a long-forgotten squirrel and yesterday’s laundry.
Your mother is taking notes of each incident for future reference.
So here’s the deal: cease this behavior. Or else.
If you don’t, rest assured, one day when you are living independently, I will pay a visit and wreak havoc on your belongings.
Imagine this: I arrive with a cheerful demeanor, a warm embrace, and a plate of your favorite cookies. As you savor the treats, blissfully unaware of my true intentions, I will be stealthily pouring liquid into your shoes. The beauty of this plan? You won’t know until the unpleasant odor reveals itself the next morning when you slip them on for an important meeting.
I’ll dismantle your lawn mower, using its blade to attack your cherished tree. I might even boil a deceased raccoon in your favorite pot, leaving it there for you to find. Your hot water heater will mysteriously cease to function, along with the electricity to your freezer. Your devices, whether they be tablets or other electronics, will face an untimely demise, and I will make certain your new TV screen shatters under the force of a NERF gun.
While you’re preoccupied with the aftermath, I’ll leave sticky handprints on your couch, etch my name into your dining table, and hide a stick of butter in your washing machine. I could even fill your dishwasher with gum and bury your electric razor in the flowerbed.
And my plans won’t conclude when the sun sets. Oh no. I will take up residence overnight.
As you drift into dreams, I will be downstairs, placing a hot iron on your hardwood floors just long enough to warp them. Couch cushions will be unstuffed, sugar will infiltrate your DVD player, and anything secured with screws will be unscrewed. A turkey sandwich will find its way into your winter coat pocket, VapoRub will cover your countertops, and I will rip out the final pages of every book you own. Just when you think you’re safe, I’ll jump on your bed at an ungodly hour, demanding a lavish breakfast—minus the orange juice, which I’ve cleverly hidden.
You may pause to think, “Wow! What a chaotic tirade! At least she didn’t scratch my car!”
Fear not about your vehicle; I’ve already taken care of that, leaving deep scrapes and siphoning out the gas.
Now, dear children, heed my words carefully.
There is no item you could damage that would diminish my love for you. Even if you were to incinerate our home to the ground (which, at your current rate, is a real possibility), I would still embrace my role as your mother.
But know this: it will all be noted.
With all my love,
Mom
P.S. Those cookies? I may have licked them thoroughly before bringing them over.
For further insights on navigating parenthood and home insemination, check out our other blogs, including this excellent resource on pregnancy and this informative article on artificial insemination.
In summary, the journey of parenting can be filled with chaos and humor, yet the love for one’s children remains unwavering. Embracing creativity and maintaining a sense of humor can aid in navigating the challenges of raising spirited kids.