letters to my children

Dear Cicely,

You are almost 14. Heaven help us all. Day 2 of school and already you are getting hollered at to get your butt out the door for 8:45. This morning your father took your breakfast with him to work which did nothing for your sparkly personality. Yes, it was the breakfast you took time last night to make for yourself so you could have as much time as possible this morning to do your hair. This was very rude and inconsiderate of him, I agree. Since when do we make his breakfast anyway? Never. That's right. Why he thought it was for him today is beyond me. I will yell at him later. And then you can. It'll be fun. Mommy/daughter bonding time.

Seminary starts on Tuesday. You'll need to either be up at 6 am or give in to a life of messy buns atop your head. I don't see it being a problem since that's been your standard hairdo for the last year. You'll be very tired. Especially since you insisted on so much dance this year you had to take on a 2nd flyer route to pay for half of it. You are the master of learning things the hard way. It's just one more treasured gift you inherited from your father.

What are the odds being that tired and busy will enhance your sparkly personality?

I wish you luck. I mean me. I wish me luck.

Love Mom



Dear Jack,

You are almost 12 and I am okay with this because the older you get the funnier you get and the better you and I get along. I have one rule for you for this most special grade 7 year:

You are allowed to make the girls laugh but you are not allowed to kiss them or hold their hands in the hallway. I don't care how good looking you are. Capiche?

You are a good son. Honor your mother....or else.

Love Mom



Dear Holden,

Holden Holden Holden. I have two pieces of advice for you and if you want to make it to the ripe ol' age of 9, you'll heed them.

1. STOP hanging from the stairwell trim as you descend the stairs. I don't care if you are an ork fighting warrior. Or Luke Skywalker evading Darth Vader. Or whatever the heck you might be at that moment. If you rip the trim from the wall I will remove your head and stick it on a post in our front yard as a warning to all 8 year old boys who suffer from the same imaginative ailment of slaying mystical creatures in their free time, as you do. Your burden is heavy, young one. Bear it wisely.

2. Do not get out of bed and watch tv in the morning before school. And especially don't hide from your father when he comes downstairs to invade his pepsi stash before work. I will hide the remote every night when I go to bed in an effort to teach you that I am the queen of this castle and my rules will be obeyed.

You are a good boy, with a big imagination. That is good. Destroying newly renovated property is bad. Very very bad. This must always be remembered.

Live by the law, my fair son, and all will be well in the kingdom.

Love Mom



Dear Amelia,

You big grade one-er you. How will your teacher survive the year? We pray for her soul daily. And yours, of course. I will miss you terribly while you are away from me and then when you return I will kiss and hug you and remind you that sass must be left at home, regardless of who needs to be taught what. You are not the boss.

No sass at school. That is the rule.

Also, don't tell people you are more beautiful than them. It hurts their feelings. Even though you and I both know it's true, it has to be our little secret.

To fill my empty days I will find as many things to do as possible that have nothing to do with you so I am not sad and lonely for your loud and wonderful ways. It's a sacrifice I must make for my own survival.

I am sorry you can't take Big Puppy to school with you. I am sorry there are rules against man-sized stuffy dogs sitting next to you while you learn. I promise I will take good care of him and hug him when he whines for you. I put a big brown bow on him so he will look dashing for you when you return.

I am also sorry you can't have pop in your lunch.

School rule makers are mean? I agree.

Love Mom