May Letters

Dear family (in my home and otherwise),

Sometimes happiness comes in a box...

...or a basket.

Thanks for the birthday gifts.

Love--Me

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Dear weather gods,

Snow boots and swimming suits in the same week is bizarre.

Yours Truly--Confused mama who is bidding winter farewell, no matter what

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Dear National Do Not Call Registry,

Despite having filed my home number with you three(-ish...seems like 20) times , I still receive telephone solicitations on a regular basis. I am tempted to block all solicitors' calls and blast back that message I've seen on some front doors. It goes something like, "We've found Jesus, we like our vacuum, and our roof is fine, thankyouverymuch." Do you know it?  I think it ends with "...unless you're selling girl scout cookies..."

I'd ditch our home phone except that my children would have no way to call me when I'm gone. Hmm....there's an idea.

Impatiently--Current Resident

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Dear Wells Fargo,

Thanks for being good to us. Garry sure has been good to you for ten years! Thanks for the extra five days of paid time off, for the steak lunch Garry's boss paid for, and for his early release last Friday.

With appreciation--The employee's wife

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Dear Colorado Springs Utilities,

Our electricity usage has inexplicably decreased by half over the last year. I have no idea what's happening, but thank you for the credit on our bill.

Thankfully--Equal-pay customer

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Dear daughters,

The fact that both of you soiled your underwear in a 20-minute period while we were away from home reinforces my belief that storing multiple pairs of back-up clothing in the van is a must. Kate would probably agree, as she's the one who ended up in a diaper. I am glad that one of you refused to eat breakfast before school, and so had a zip baggie of cereal that we could use for...um...waste. Ew. That was gross.

Resignedly--Still a diaper-changing mama

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Dear Subway,

I am sorry that one of the afore-mentioned incidents happened on your premises.

Sincerely--Your customer

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Dear Coats & Clark,

You make transparent thread. I sew scout patches to olive drab shirts. It seems that we would be a match made in heaven (or Troop 512). However, my sewing machine hates you. Patient as I was about starting over and over and over, I simply couldn't tolerate the mess you made in my bobbin compartment, not to mention the fact that you wouldn't complete an actual seam. And so I return to matching threads to patches. *sigh*

Yours (or maybe not) in sewing--A wannabe seamstress

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Dear Hobby Lobby,

Why don't you carry Guterman thread? Let's hope Lexi doesn't noticed the slight shade differential in the seams of her bed curtains, since I RAN OUT OF THREAD during the final phase of the eternal sewing project I am attempting for her birthday, and I didn't want to drive to another store when I had already driven to you. Bah.

Secretly--President, Overly-Ambitious Anonymous

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Dear May,

You are just as harrowing as December, minus the snow and ice. Wait...

Yours in scheduling--Mother of four school children and a toddler who naps

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Dear friend with a husband and father in the hospital,

Your stress is palpable. Man, I wish I could help. I sure love your family.

Love to you--Your mom's former-but-always visiting teacher

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Dear Landsharks,

I am sad that you changed your policy and no longer allow kindergartners to run in the one-mile race. Gavin was totally planning on it, telling everyone about his "big race." He was so disappointed. However, after processing the disappointment for a while, he said, "Mom, can I do Landsharks next year so I can run the mile?" I guess he's resilient.

Speedily (or not)--A mom raising a runner

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Dear LG,

Our dishwasher--or rather, your dishwasher in my kitchen--is broken. Do know how lame this is for a family that generates so many dirty dishes? Garry has ordered one of your fancy heating elements and will attempt to make the repair himself. We'll see. Until then I am remembering the days of washing dishes by hand when I was a kid, and feeling guilty for the lack of character-building parenting in my current home every time I pass out paper bowls and plates at meal time. I am trying to believe that, as a friend pointed out, we might be conserving water while killing trees.

Sadly--A lazy mom

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Dear Not Me,

Thank you (but not) for sitting in the stroller and breaking the seat, and for taking off the front wheel simply because it is removable. Seriously, I don't know how the idea of LEAVE IT ALONE never enters your head!

Crying with frustration--Fed up

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Dear Kate,

Stop being so ridiculously cute. It's really hard to discipline a cherub, except when said cherub is acting decidedly un-heavenly. Then it's easy.

Lovingly--Yo mama

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Dear AEES teachers,

We love you, which hopefully is obvious by the tedious process required I created for myself to make these posters. I don't know when I'll learn to pass on projects like this. Maybe you can teach me.

With gratitude--The Bartle boys' mom

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Dear Anthony E. Wolf,

Your book is especially resonant in my life right now, but I think you could have emphasized your points about ornery teenagers without all the swearing. Doesn't that mean you're as immature and un-creative as they are? 

Harshly--A desperate but picky reader

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Dear self,

It has taken a year, but I am glad you f.i.n.a.l.l.y figured out that relocating Kate's clothes to the lower drawers would nearly eliminate her incessant need to invert the laundry baskets and use them as ladders.

With relief and gratitude--A slow learner

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Dear Saturday evening,

You were just perfect for a walk. Ahhhh....

Appreciatively--A fresh air lover

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Dear child with a pink obsession,

Your outfits are always creative, but the nightgown-boots-jacket-helmet combo especially amused me.

Mama

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Dear Not Me,

Whatever possessed you to put a marker inside of a jar of burning wax is beyond me, but I am sure you enjoyed seeing the results of the experiment. Bursting glass and dripping wax are always funny, right?!

With suspicion and annoyance--Your exhausted mother

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Dear Lynn the attendance lady,

You always laugh at my children when we stop by the middle school to drop off a child or an item. It is true: they are crazy. That day I brought in four children between the ages of two and four (one is hiding behind the bench) was especially chaotic, but only because we had to wait 20 minutes for you to locate my son.

With a smirk--Zach's mom

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Dear band director,

We've got another percussionist in the family. He will probably practice.

Excitedly--Tyler's mom

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Dear Pinterest,

I found this wreath and LOVE it, but I think I am not up to such a project. Maybe next summer? (Because surely I'll have more free time then...hahahahahaha...)

Yours in pinning--A recovering ambitious crafter

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Dear friends and family,

Thank you for supporting Tyler in his required-for-school business. He is too young to appreciate that soliciting money from loved ones is uncomfortable for his parents. Nevertheless, he loves to cook and is excited to sell his made-from-scratch crescent rolls, which, I promise you, will be delicious. A dozen rolls are $4.50 and will be available on Saturday, just in time for Mother's Day. It's not too late to order!

Thankfully--A Tyler's Tongue-Tingling Tasties marketing strategist

April letters

Dear Vitamix,

You are almost 16 years old (wedding gift, baby!) but still blend like a champ.  I must confess that every time I flip your high speed switch I'm afraid your motor will burn out.  It's not that you are showing signs of impending doom.  I just don't want to fork out the cash to replace you anytime soon. Although the thought of a red Vitamix is a little compelling, please just keep up the good work.

Green smoothie lover

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Dear cell phone,

It was super sad when I dropped you and your screen shattered.  I think I just dropped you one too many times.  The good news is that Zach's phone is currently unused, so I have a back-up for the four days it will take to get a new phone.  I might have had a coronary without a texting app. The bad news is that I didn't think about assuming Zach's phone as my own until we had already purchased a new one.  Oh well.

Butterfingers

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Dear Elder Jeffrey R. Holland,

LDS General Conference is this weekend, and you always give the best talks.  Yes, yes you do. President Uchtdorf is a close second, so toe the line and get 'er done.  Apostles are competitive, right?

A member

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Dear Dollar Tree,

The girls and I perused your wares because Lexi earned a prize for staying in her own bed ten nights in a row (monumental, I tell you!).  She couldn't find the toy she wanted, so I talked her into buying silver flip-flops.  This was a two-birds-one-stone killing, since she's been begging for sandals and I don't want dollar store junk floating around my house.  But maybe they are junk and I'll have to buy flip-flops anyway.  {Editor's note: they broke the first day.  Haha.}

The mom

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Dear bedroom,

I love love love the new gray color on your walls, which complements our gray-and-purple bedding. Ahh....it's nice to have such a soothing bedroom setting, which inspires a calm reaction when I find Kate snacking on cereal, grapes, and milk in my bed.

Resident

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Dear doors,

I've been painting you since our bedroom project ended.  I am growing weary of the effort, but your new bright white sheen makes me oh-so-happy.  I wish I had the money and stamina to paint every room in the house.  Five or six years of the same old walls means it's time for a change, right? #firstworldproblems

Discontent

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Dear Creepy Man,

Remember back in our Beaverton days when you stalked me?  I was taking pictures at all the youth dance festival practices, and you followed me wherever I went, even building to building.  Then, when I practiced the organ after mutual, you came and incessantly asked me questions and positioned your body way too close for my comfort.  You finally left me alone when my bishop talked to your bishop and your wife.  I haven't thought about you for years, but when I dropped off my son at his dance festival practice tonight, the memories came flooding back.  It's funny, though...I don't remember your name.

The stalkee

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Dear children of mine,

Cereal is not to be removed from the kitchen.  Ever.

You may not eat it in a bowl.  You may not eat it in a hole.  You may not eat it in my bed.  You may not pour it on your head. You may not crunch it on the stairs.  You may not spill it everywhere!  I do not like your Trix and Puffs.  To tell the truth, I'm quite fed up!

Dr. Mom

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Dear Cub Scouts,

Thank you for running out of time to bake all of the cookie dough you made.  Mmmm...more for me.

Cheater cheater dairy eater

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Dear visiting teachees,

You should know that nearly every person I have visit taught in the last few years has moved away while in my care.  I'd like to think it's not my fault, but maybe it is, so beware.

Your VT

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Dear April Fools Day,

I only pulled a prank on one person but it was hilarious (at least to me).  While on the way to pick up a friend at the airport, I sent a text to her saying I got a speeding ticket.  She sent a very empathetic response, and then I told her I was just kidding and I'd be at the curb in a minute.  We laughed.  

Prankster, apparently

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Dear leotards,

You are Kate's favorite things in the world.  She hates clothing of all kinds except you.  I guess something snug and soft is all her sensitive little self can handle.  Sometimes she will consent to wearing regular clothing on top of you.  Sometimes.  Her obsession doesn't bother me too much except that we still have some really cold weather around here!  And diapers are sure a pain when she's wearing a leotard.  The question is whether I should buy ten more of you, or make do with the three we have. Thoughts?

Also: who in the world came up with the word "leotard"?

The mom cultivating creative fashion statements in her children

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Dear Walmart,

I love love love that you price match, although I have become that lady in the checkout line.  Oh well.  Getting five gallons of milk for ten bucks and church clothes for Zach the same store is priceless.  Even if Kate screams, "I HATE BUTTER" the whole time I'm in the store.

Shopper

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Dear minivan,

I am sooo sorry I neglected your malfunction side door for so long.  It was one of those "we'll fix it later when we're rich" situations so we have just dealt with the door that only shuts with special care.  Nine months later, when the locking mechanism on MY door malfunctioned, we decided to have both doors inspected.  It turns out mine was an easy (expensive) fix, but yours seems to be unfixable by our regular mechanic, since a pencil and a plastic straw were wedged up in your electronic gears or sensors or whatever.  Every day that we waited to fix it, the problem worsened. Dang it. 

The driver

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Dear windshield, 

We also replaced you this week, and the crack that has been growing for five years is gone! Woohoo!  The girls even behaved themselves where we had to wait, right near the entrance to the shop.  Good thing no one else waited, because we monopolized all seven chairs.

The lady with two kids

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Dear underwears,

Kate loves to wear but does not want to sit on the potty...except for today.  Please keep motivating her to continue this lovely trend.  If you do, I'll buy more for Lexi because both girls have the same size bum.

Much love--The diaper changer

March letters

Dear March,

I don't like you very much so far.  Let's get together and sort this out, K? K.

Heidi

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Dear piano,

You are my favorite thing in the whole wide world right now.  You are perfect for pounding out my frustrations and softening my soul.  If I don't spend some time with you every day I feel incomplete. You are probably my favorite purchase ever, perhaps even more than my current house, because the master bathroom is tiny and I might curse the wood floors to my grave.  But I digress.

Your owner

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Dear Sally DeFord,

I can't participate in the Easter Cantata this year but I bought the music before I knew that.  It provides tons of material for my distress as mentioned above.  I hope to one day master it all, although you have made such a goal pretty tricky with all your 16th notes and break-neck metronome speeds. Maybe that's why "The Greatest Among Us" is my favorite. Props to you.

Former choir member

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Dear cell phone,

Thank you for not breaking when I threw you at the wall after someone was really mean to me on the phone last night.  Haha.  I'm so immature.  But I love you.

Embarrassed and grateful

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Dear Bambi,

You have provided lots of entertainment for my smallest one lately...and also for me, because she calls you "Bamba" and refers to your bunny friend as "Humper."  Oh, that makes me smile every time.

TV mama

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Dear Miss Amy,

Lexi's ballet recital is on Friday, and based on today's dress rehearsal I am not at all confident that she'll perform that night.  Stage fright might trump her passionate love and affinity for ballet, but thanks for the leotard and tutu and sparkly toenails anyway.

Lexi's mom

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Dear ham,

I totally know it's my fault, but I'm blaming you for spilling your juices all over my favorite sweats on the day after I did the laundry.  They were supposed to comfort me all week, because we all know (or maybe not everyone does) that I only wear jeans when I leave the house (or when I have to leave the car when I leave the house).  So yeah, you're lame.

The butcher

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Dear Primary children,

I hope you like glitter and don't know what ghetto-fabulous means, because I plan to use sparkles and a Nephite to extract your scriptural knowledge on Sunday. 

Sister Bartle

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Dear Paul,

You are such a great neighbor, especially to my kids.  Gavin just adores you and is so thrilled to see you at church so he can talk to you about your bows and arrows.  He loves it when you help him shoot them in your backyard. He asks every.single.day after school if he can play with you.  The fact that you are in your 40's and have a job and teenage daughters never enters his consciousness. You are just a friend, and he's happy to play.  And also thank you for the Popsicles.

Gavin's mom

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Dear dairy products,

I miss you.  Tacos without cheese are lame.  Watching my family eat chicken pillows without me is rough.  However, I have learned that coconut milk is WAY better than almond milk, and I have found a morning smoothie recipe that I love, and have found other ways to satisfy my need for creamy textures, so your importance in my life is slowly fading, as is my waistline, which provides a lot of motivation, in addition to material for a run-on sentence.  Eleven pounds down, baby.  Not just because of you, but still.  It's happy.

Water drinker

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Dear friend with fertility issues,

I am seriously sad about your struggles (which I know you know), but I love talking to you about them because then I can laugh about my own infertility of long ago.  Garry and I had a great laugh about turkey basters tonight.  Haha.

The lady with five kids she thought she'd never have

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Dear Dr. Y,

Why won't you order the blood tests I want?  If I'm paying, why do you care?  The results matter to me, even if it's just for peace of mind.  When I told your nurse I was going to another doctor to get what I wanted, she said you'd call me and discuss the issue.  That was two days ago.  Sionara.

Patient X

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Dear Kate,

It is not a good idea to paint your eyeballs with fingernail polish.  The uses you find for that stuff are just mind-boggling!  Hopefully you will remember that this particular experiment was not your brightest idea.  I'm glad you aren't blind. {Post here.}

Love,

Mama

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)

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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

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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

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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
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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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