Archive for the ‘Dear So-And-So’ Category

Dear parents and teachers of gifted kids,
There will be a Twitter chat on supporting gifted kids next Friday, hashtag #nomoremyths. If you’re not on Twitter, get on Twitter so you can participate. Hosting is the delightful Deborah Mersino of Ingeniosus. Keep an eye on her blog next week for further details, or just drop me a note and I’ll make sure you have the info. Deborah is fantastic at gifted advocacy and support, and hopefully later this month we’ll finally meet for lunch. She’s lining up all the experts she can, so it will be worth your time to jump onto this Twitter chat.
Giving you the super secret double pinky gifted handshake,
Jen

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Dear A,
May I ask just WTF you were thinking, going into Daddy’s office this morning? And playing with his phone? And accidentally calling his boss? You know, the guy who works at home and heard his phone ring at 5:15 am? I can see you now know how absolutely stupid that was for you to do, and I’m sure a weekend of no screen time will push the lesson home too.  Really dude, not a good way to start the day.
Do it again and we’ll superglue your fingers together (just kidding…mostly…),
Mom

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Dear Qwest,
Dudes, I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it. I had to call a couple of times this week to make changes to our account and both times I had people who didn’t live across the world from me! And I talked to a real, live human being within 90 seconds! And I’m getting super faster internet and free unlimited long distance AND saving quite a bit of coin! Truly, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but calling your customer service was the best part of this craptastic week.
Keep it up and I’ll quit calling you Qworst,
The woman who can’t wait to have internet so fast it blows her hair back

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Dear, sweet Rosie,
I know you smell that ginormous ham in the kitchen. It’s making my mouth water too. But you even think of working that pea brain of yours to figure out a way to eat it, I will sell you. Ain’t no amount of lovin’ to make up for that, girlfriend. And your toxic farts are bad enough without a fresh 20 pound ham in you. Just sayin’.
Love you except the hair,
Mom

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Dear J,
Sweetheart, coming up to me at school when I’m volunteering and you’re supposed to be working and asking for a friend to come over after school and then starting up the whining when I say no isn’t going to get you what you want. It’s only going to tick me off. And after this week from hell, I really don’t need that. I don’t want to be responsible for another human being in this house this afternoon. Does this make me a bad mom? Probably, but frankly, I’m past caring this week.
Still love you but want some quiet,
Mommy

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Dear school,
Next week I start the process of being a thorn in your side. I have an 8 year old son who is having panic attacks over the state testing coming up. I wish I was exaggerating, but alas, no. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say, but my take on it is, give him the accommodations he needs or I will pull him from the testing and the school will show a big fat goose egg on its record. I can homeschool for a few months, or borrow money from friends and family to put him in the fantastic private school I toured yesterday. Your call.
She’s waking from her nap and not happy about it,
Mama Bear

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Dear universe,
Your current cranial-rectal inversion is really borking up my mojo. I’m tired of waking up in the morning afraid of what is going to be thrown at me and in what order. I’ve managed to survive the shit you’ve thrown my way recently, now it’s time to plant in the well-fertilized soul of my life. I want need a job. Preferably part-time, but will somehow juggle full-time if the right thing comes along. Something that will not kill my brain. I know I’ve been out of the workforce awhile, but good grief, pay me what I’m worth.  I need some guidance for my son, because I’m at the end of my rope and about to hang myself with what’s left. I need my husband back, instead of the half-zombie, half-kumquat I have now. I need to catch up on all the emails, paperwork, housecleaning, miscellany of my life before my brain goes on strike (complete with little signs and rhyming chants), making everything all the  more difficult. Cut me a break, will ya?
Rocking back and forth in the corner with her thumb in her mouth,
Jen (almost 5pm…almost 5pm)

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Dear everyone I owe an email response,
I’m so sorry. It’s coming. I hope.
Can’t type fast enough,
She who has a computer so slow that an entire line is typed before it magically appears

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Love and kisses, all!

Dear 2010,
I’ve been waiting for you! Come in, come in. Coffee? Mimosa? Let’s snuggle and share our hopes and dreams! So glad you’re here. I have such plans for the two of us, such plans. Just don’t dick with me like 2009 did.
Loving you like fresh sheets on the bed,
Jen

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Dear New Decade,
Double digits. Two hands. Big kid now. You’re not a little guy anymore, so it’s time to knock off the first decade tantrums and the whining and man up. The first ten years were miserable for pretty much everyone I know. I started off the aughts with a miscarriage, ended it with worry-induced insomnia over my eight year old son. It’s time for the economy to strengthen, for health and happiness for everyone I know, and for everything concerning my oldest son to make sense already. I’m sure it’s not too much to ask for things to be fun and happy for awhile now.
Filled with hope for the next ten years,
The woman who wants a great teenaged decade

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Dear Tom,
Sorry you weren’t feeling so hot this morning after the three glasses of wine you had last night (you lightweight, you). Sorry I didn’t share my tip for preventing the feeling of truck bumper application to your head several thousand times (two ibuprofin and a huge glass of water before bed, then another huge glass of water before you get out of bed), but I figured everyone knew that trick. Then again, you don’t have my family constitution/heritage (go Irish!); don’t think the Danish can keep up. You whupped my ass at Monopoly this afternoon, so let’s call it even.
Feeling great despite the 5 glasses of wine and all the rum cake last night,
That Irish woman you married

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Dear Full/Blue Moon,
Piss.Off.
Hate you with the passion of a thousand blazing suns,
She who has not slept well for days and has had to deal with cracked out boys during an extended winter break

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Dear Princess the PMSing Laptop,
I’m so sick of you I am considering getting a job just so I can drop kick you off the nearest f*cking bridge. Any other income would be gravy at this point. You have new hard drives, were at the Computer Spa for two weeks (!), and now your CD/DVD drive kicks the bucket? I haven’t had a chance to figure it out yet; you sure as hell better hope I just need to update a driver. OH, and the funky clicky sound from the brand new hard drive must.stop.now.
Not spending another frakking dollar on you,
Jen

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A very happy New Year to everyone who visits here. May you have a healthy and prosperous year, with everything going your way. Blessings to you in 2010!

Dear Computer Guru,
Please call. Why don’t you call? Princess the PMSing Laptop has been with you for a week and a half now (not including the week before Thanksgiving). I know you’re waiting for the new hard drives to be be delivered, but a week and a half? I’m on a slowly dying HP desktop (are we seeing a theme here?) with a mouse that sticks and a keyboard that’s all wonky. I have to read and answer email on the website, which is clunky and a PITA. I haven’t pined over the phone ringing like this since I was in middle school. Oh, how I’d love to start out winter break with my laptop. Please call today.
Waiting for your call,
The woman who wants her laptop back
PS: Call me

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Dear self:
Yes, reading is fundamental. It makes you happy. A good story transports you to another time and place. However, when that time and place is within a seriously dystopian piece of literature, and you’re already having a rough week, be prepared for the Technicolor wackadoo dreams that will pop up.
Getting the Calvin and Hobbes books out for a mental enema,
She Who Would Like To Sleep Well Tonight

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Dear calves,
Step class was two days ago. Knock it the hell off already.
Limping and whining,
The person who resides above you

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Dear Winter Break,
You will arrive in approximately five hours, for a two and a half week visit. Please be gentle and use your very best manners. I would like to continue deluding myself that I could homeschool A, and if you’re a bitch of a guest I will have to toss out that idea and search for a job to afford private school. So please just remember to use your inside voice, put the toilet seat down, and your plates go into the dishwasher when you’re done. We need to start enforcing that rule, as Rosie the Wonder Basset can apparently make it to the top of the kitchen table, where this morning she enjoyed a late brunch of Granny Smith apples and chocolate chip pancakes.
Be good or I’ll drive you to the airport and leave you there,
The mama who’s looking forward to some rest

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Dear husband,
Thank you for starting up the dishwasher while I was at the 3rd grade Manners Breakfast this morning. However, you also dumped the coffee pot in the process. I got 1/2 cup of coffee this morning, there are no Vanilla Coke Zeros in the house, and I have a kindergarten Holiday party this afternoon. In the Stay At Home Mom world, this is known as A PERFECT STORM. Please be prepared for the unfortunate consequences.
Nuttin’ but love for ya,
Your cross-eyed from fatigue wife

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Dear awesome neighbor who is hosting a Beginning of Winter Break Playdate/Cocktails this afternoon,
I love you. Thank you for hosting this. I’ll bring some treats and the cattle prods to keep the kids in the other room (I’m fresh out of electrified barbed wire). Call me if you prefer duct tape; I can run out and buy holiday colors.
Save me some Bailey’s,
The One Who Didn’t Get Enough Coffee This Morning

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Dear Crappy Computer on which I’m currently typing,
What the hell, dude? Am I that picky about having a computer that WORKS? Opening websites, not crashing, not taking so long to open a window that I can get up and get a drink…is that really too much to ask? Really? You’re on my list now too, dude. Can I get a volume discount from the Apple Store? Frakkin’ POS. Shape up or I’m setting A on you to investigate the innards of a CPU.
Still waiting for Computer Guru to call and getting pissy,
The apparently impatient woman

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Have a great weekend, and don’t forget to check out other participants at Half-Past Kissing Time and 3 Bedroom Bungalow!

Dear Princess the PMSing Laptop,
This is the last coin I drop on you, got it? You’re getting TWO brand-spankin’-new 160GB hard drives, doubling your space. You’re getting upgraded to Windows 7 ONLY because it uses less RAM than Vista, and I’d like you to actually, you know, RUN. I’m sticking your expensive, worthless ass under the tree with a bow, ’cause your repairs are now my Christmas present instead of the vacuum I strongly suspected my husband was getting me AND THAT I DESPERATELY WANTED. And be warned: my birthday is in September, and with all the Back to School specials that run that time of year, you may find yourself out on the street. My Computer Guru is a nice guy and not charging me for all of the gazillion hours of work you’re causing him, only some of them. By the time you get back, I’ll have been almost 2 weeks without you. I just can’t quit you, bitch.
Repairing you ONLY because it’s cheaper than a replacement right now,
One ticked off computer-less woman

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Dear Ma Nature,
Lots of letters to you this year, but you’re on Santa’s Naughty List for the craptastic weather of 2009. It’s been colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra lately and frankly, I’m sick of it. The utility bills are sure to induce great suffering on my part and lots of hollaring about “turn off that light!” and “put on a sweater, I don’t care if you’re already wearing three!” and “you can turn on the fireplace when your lips are a darker shade of blue!” And we’re not even to Colorado’s traditional winter months yet. Just give me a pleasant spring and warm summer and all will be forgiven.
Shivering with her green tea already cold,
The one with pale blue lips

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Dear psychologist who specializes in gifted kids who Tom and I are meeting this afternoon:
Pleaseohplease be able to help us. Things are not improving and I can’t keep having sob fests in the middle of the day. My eyes are still swollen from the breakdown on Wednesday. I will homeschool A if that’s the best fit for him, but I’m terrified beyond words of doing that. Our best hope is that the charter school we’re supporting will be approved on Wednesday, otherwise that’s a distinct possibility. Please help us help our son, and strengthen our family. I’m tired of being this worried.
Crossing my fingers,
One exhausted mom

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Dear self,
Quit trolling Craigslist looking for jobs, and just get off your ass and start your own. You know you want to, you know you’ll be good at it, you know it’ll work. Just.Go.Do.It.Already. You know you wouldn’t be happy working for someone else, especially given how crazy your family can be (see above letter), so create your own career and get going. OH, and a few other things. You shouldn’t have looked up that house online, because now you can’t get it out of your head. You know better than to search out dream houses, because then you find out it’s within the realm of possibility and you never want to move again, remember? Also, your library books are due today and there will be late fines unless you renew them. You don’t want late fines on some 50 odd books. Finally, the concert you’ve been practicing for is tomorrow and then you can relax. Please remember to NEVER EVER AGAIN AMEN agree to play such a difficult piece at the holidays. You’re no longer anything resembling a professional flutist, you’re solidly an amateur and don’t have the stamina for the practicing that goes along with such a hard piece. And go make more hot tea, for crying out loud. It’s cold in here.
Talking to myself,
Me

Rah rah rah…sis boom bah!

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Dear nice PC Guru who has brought Princess the PMSing Laptop back from the dead several times:

I will sign a DNR if it means I get her back before I leave at o’dark thirty Monday morning. Please do not order parts. Please do not knock yourself out trying to figure out what is wrong. She is not recognizing my external hard drive and I just need that resolved. My EHD holds my entire iTunes library, and because it’s an EHD, Carbonite doesn’t back it up. I do realize that her extended warrantee ended last week and I’m on borrowed time, but please, no extended measures. I just need that POS back before I head to Iowa for a week.

Fantasizing over a MacBook Pro,

Jen

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Dear Facebook/real life friends who have found me here:

Hi! Welcome! Poke around awhile! Please leave comments, they’re like crack. Just be prepared that if you read here and I don’t know it and you mention to my face something you read, I will get a definite “deer in headlights” look as I desperately try to remember what the hell I wrote and dear God did I embarrass myself?

Feverishly wracking my brain,

Jen

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Dear Thanksgiving Week Off:

Please be gentle. Thank you.

Jen

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Dear sweet sons of mine:

On Monday we have a 14 hour drive through some of the most mind-numbing landscape outside of Wyoming. I will build you a Boy Cave  in the back of the MomVan. Please enter the Boy Cave and request nothing of me. You will have DVDs, Leapsters, books, food, and drink. There is nothing more you need. Bathroom breaks are every few hours and will be mandatory. I encourage naps. Lots of naps. Whining, complaining, and fighting may result in you hitchhiking the rest of the way. You’ve been warned.

P.S. Your computer’s keyboard sucks.

Love,

Mom

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Dear CERN:

You guys are super cool and I love the advanced research you do. That said, I just finished reading “Flashforward,” and have caught on Twitter that the LHC is up and running today. Please don’t blow us up, and if there’s any kind of seeing into the future going on this evening, I expect a happy ending. One where my oldest son is working over there with you.

Go, particles, GO!

Jen

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Dear husband:

I love you. I’m proud of you. You do great work.

Flowers. Just send flowers and I won’t want to wring your neck for needing travel so stinking much lately.

Loving peach roses,

Your schmoopie

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Dear Universe,

You suck for moving A’s very best friend in the whole wide world away this weekend. You’d damn well better make it up to him BUT GOOD or I’m coming after you.

Sharpening her claws,

One Pissed Off Mama Bear

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Dear readers:

Yeah, not as funny this week.

Le sigh,

Jen

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Have a great weekend!

Fridays just wouldn’t be the same without Fragments and Dear So and So…

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Dear Sudden Downpour:

Wow, can you stop for maybe five minutes so my kids can get home dry? That’d be swell.

Nice and dry in her basement office,

Jen

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Dear lady woman female creature at Hobby Lobby:

Really? Please tell me that was your shoe. I’ll comp you one ripper ’cause sometimes they just fly out, but the second one? Surely you can feel them coming! Or at least attempt to silence them! Good Lord. Oh, and because I’ve been there a thousand times with potty training toddlers, the bathroom is in the back, behind framing. You might want to go check your pants. Just sayin’…

Learn to cough to cover ‘em up,

Me

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Dear Whackadoo “Balloon Boy” Parents:

You were in court today. You plead guilty to being the Stupidest Parents Alive various charges. I expect this will be the last we hear of you.

You’re makin’ me look good,

Jen

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Dear sweet sons of mine:

Suck it up. It’s not hailing, it’s heavy and unexpected rain/snow/sleety stuff. You have heavy jackets with hoods. You can see inside our house from inside the school. There is no way in hell I’m coming over to get you, and having the secretary call was a bad move on your parts.

I buy you warm clothing for a reason,

Mom

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Dear 3rd grade teachers:

I was not spying on recess this afternoon, I was looking for my son because I love to watch him at recess. He cracks me up, running like a little madman and being silly. That I didn’t see him, causing me to believe he was kept in yet again, irks me, but I wasn’t spying. Even though you saw me and waved and I waved back.

Gonna watch Rear Window tonight,

A’s mom

Dear Mother Nature,

Are you feeling better after your little hissy fit? Eighteen inches in a 36 hour period shows, after it was 85 ten days ago shows true cajones. So nice of you to let the sun out to play this afternoon. Just, Ma, please recall what I said this summer: if you’re going to give us 65 and rainy in July (which you did, you psycho bitch), you’d better pony up 65 and sunny in February.

Smootches,

Jen

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Dear Rosie,

You are the greatest dog in the history of dogdom. But you could knock off the shedding already? The carpets need shaving. According to Ma Nature, it’s winter and you’re going to need all that fur to keep you warm. I mean, you poor thing, you went out the last couple of days and discovered that the snow went up past your short little legs. Low undercarriage, you know. I know vacuuming more often than once a month would probably help, but the vacuum is terrible. It was terrible before you came home with us last year, and now it’s really pissy that I make it work harder. So help me out and hang on to the hair. You’re getting a pedicure and bath tomorrow, that’ll make it ok, right?

Love,

Mama Jen

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Dear Vacuum,

Bugger off. You suck when you shouldn’t and don’t when you should. I hate you.

Jonesing for a Dyson Animal vacuum,

Jen

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Dear husband of mine,

I love you. We’ve been together for 16 years this month, married for a little more that 13. But right now? The stress pinned in the red zone and actually straining to move past it…sigh…is alimony cheaper or an office outside the house? Think about it…or I may smother you in your sleep and decide for you.

Fluffing my pillow,

Jen

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Dear Howard the Headache,

Yes, you’ve been irritating me all day. Yes, I took you to two elementary school Halloween parties today. And, yes, I’ve been sending ibuprofin your way all day. But, really, the bungee jumping from base of my skull into my shoulder blades is a bit much, even for you. Piss off.

Searching for the acupressure point,

Jen

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Dear Halloween,

I am wearing a costume. I am myself in an alternate universe. What you see is based on your reality, not mine.

Hand over the peanut butter cups and no one gets hurt,

Jen…or is it?