Stop, Drop and Blog

Dearest BigBrother,

I know I just wrote a brilliant and loving list about you and the things that make parenting you worthwhile. But we need to have a talk. I am saying these things calmly and with loving intention. So, for the love of all things Holy, especially since today is a Holy Day, try listening. Just try it. Okay?

First thing is first: When I say something, I actually mean what I say. For example, when you ask for a cookie and I say that they’re “all gone,” I actually mean that they’re all gone. I cannot magically produce cookies out of thin air. Repeating your question/request/demand over and over, louder and louder, doesn’t make the Cookie Man arrive on a glistening white unicorn.

Moving on and similarly, when I tell you to pick something up, put something down, do something or stop doing something, I mean what I say. I don’t really employ reverse psychology tactics up in here. I’m too tired for that much thought and effort. An example? When I say to stop yelling at the top of your lungs, I actually mean to stop yelling at the top of your lungs. I do not mean for you to keep yelling or to yell even louder. I’m pretty simple that way.

To address a new “trick,” of yours, I must put on my stern voice. Watch for the caps lock. When I say that something is not funny, IT IS NOT FUNNY. Your responses are most definitely not to include, a) laughing or b) saying, “yes it is!” Trust me, IT IS NOT FUNNY.

And, finally, I will accept some of the blame for this last issue while Lightning McQueen has to accept partial responsibility for his words in one of your most-loved books. “Whatever” is not ever, ever, ever an acceptable response. Ever. For example, when I tell you that it’s time to get ready to do something or go somewhere, you are not to stomp your foot, say “whatever” and run away. Furthermore, you are not to repeat “whatever” while I try to tell you that we don’t say “whatever.” It really isn’t funny (see paragraph about “it isn’t funny” above). While I do find it aggravating, you are soon going to make your Dad’s head explode. Explode! Please. I’ll stop saying it if you do. I bet that would make your Daddy a super, super happy fella. And isn’t he more fun when he’s happy? I agree. (Side note to self: Start using a different word when reading mentioned book. Eesh.)

Really? You’re a great kid. I love you to pieces. I couldn’t imagine life without you. And you do make me laugh on a regular and needed basis. If you could just work on the above mentioned articles, life would be pretty freaking swell around these parts.

Oh, and don’t ever, ever say “fartknocker” ever, ever again. I don’t care if Daddy said it and then laughed when you said it. IT IS NOT FUNNY.

Love,
Mommy