Dear Life #10 – Christmas Cards

Dear Everyone I Have every known, loved, talked to, socialized with, worked with and for, met on the internet, or passed in any of the various ‘hallways’ of life:

I am so sorry that you have not received my Christmas cards.

I am enjoying yours very much, even though I will be likely throwing them away, eh…I mean recycling them to save the Earth,  as soon as the holidays are over.  Your kids are beautiful and it is great to know that you are thinking of me.  Really, it is.

I am thinking of you too.  Seriously I am.  And I am trying hard not to make eye contact so I don’t feel compelled to buy you a present.

Unfortunately, a sad thing happened.

After spending enormous time and effort hand painting, signing and addressing Christmas cards to each and every one of you, then licking stamps for hours and hours at a time, then loading the massive basket of holiday greetings and well wishes complete with a picture of my beautiful family inside – the DAMN POST OFFICE caught on fire.  Or had an explosion.  Or a chemical leak. (Which explains the persistent strange glue smell that permeates my sinuses every time I walk in there.)

Truth is, I am not sure what has happened, I don’t think that the postal workers are telling the truth.  Maybe all the postal workers quit, or maybe my immense amount of holiday cheer was just too much for my tiny zip code to handle.

The point is, they have lost EACH and EVERY one of my completely personalized cards.  Not one survived.  And I couldn’t even get a refund on my postage.

I know, this is horrible.  You must feel terrible for me, but please…..I am a trooper and I can handle disappointments such as this.

I did have to drink an entire bottle of wine in order to numb myself long enough to fall asleep.  The whole thing has made me sick, just sick……

So, please accept my apologies, and be kind enough to consider THIS your Christmas card.  I love you.  Each and every one of you.

Me and the hubs are great.  (Notice the heart!) Except for the little mishap at the post office, life has been good. (Like I would tell you otherwise, right!?)

 

 

 

 

 

As for the picture of the kids.  Here are the girls.  Arent they lovely? They have gotten big havent they?  (The one on the left had just farted and of course, the other three, of course, had to laugh and tease!)

 

So, without further adieu!  HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM STEF & Company!

 

 

Dear Life #9

Dear Face,

I am not 16.  (Obvious from my wrinkles).  I am not pregnant. (Thank GOD!)  I am not pre-menstrual (Hallelujah shouts the family) I am not under a great deal of stress, at least nothing beyond the normal stress of life. I havent even been sweating profusely as of late.

And NO, I have not been eating chocolate lately as if it is the last food on earth and I have  avoided oranges and orange juice as of late because they both give me heartburn.

So tell me, WHAT. THE. HELL. IS. UP. WITH. THE. FRIGGIN. ZITS?

I am too old for acne.

I havent had four zits on my face at one time since I was like, 15.

Are you playing some cruel joke on me?  If so, its sooooooo not funny!

Dear Life #8

Dear Squirrel Gods,

I am helping you to teach your species to weed out indecision.  When it comes to the life of a squirrel, indecision KILLS.  I know, as I have taken out around 20 of your weakest, most indecisive squirrels living in North West Georgia in just the last few weeks.  Maybe this is survival of the fittest.  The squirrels that just keep running in one direction, win.  The squirrels that cannot decide which way to go – that sit schizophrenic in the road, holding tight to a nut in their mouth – die.  Every.  Stinking.  Time.

Please forgive me for being a martyr, a terrorist to your species.  It is not my intention to be the murderer of such cute, snarky animals who are simply foraging for nuts to fill their nutholes. (I love that word)   I beg for forgiveness.  But please, please – talk to your kind and remind them that in the rural roads of life, my minivan is much bigger than they are!

 

Sincerely,

Stef

Dear Life #7

Dear Teachers of High School Students,

It’s been a really, really REALLY long time since I was in school. I dont remember ALgebra, because quite frankly – I have NEVER ONCE, (Until now) have EVER had to use it in real life. (Thank God!) When you send home homework, and study guides and test preparation – could you at least send home the answer key as well so I can have at least a little freaking clue about whether my kid is doing it right or wrong. I shouldnt have to spend 3 hours researching inequalities or linear equations BEFORE I can help my kids with their homework. And I promise, if you will give ME the answers, I won’t tell my kids that algebra and trigonometry and those other ‘fundamental’ math courses kids are forced to take will only fill their brain with worthless information they will NEVER use in life till they have kids of their own.

Thank you,
A Mom!

Dear Life #6

Dear Kids,

I dont mind sharing the last bite of my steak with you.  I dont mind getting the occassional poop on my hand from wiping your butt.  I dont mind you drinking out of my drink, even though you leave all sorts of floaty things fromyour backwash at the bottom of the cup.  I dont mind sleeping with you, even though you kick me in the ribs and steal the cover.  I dont mind sharing the remote control, especially if doing so will keep you quiet for a few scarce minutes.  I dont mind sharing my candy bar, or the last cookie in the treat cabinet, or all the money that we have to make you happy.

BUT YOU COULD PLEASE STOP USING MY FREAKING TOOTHBRUSH!  THAT’s WHERE THE SHARING PART OF ME ENDS.

Love You,

Mom

Dear Life #5

Dear Apple Dorks,

Thanks so much for making a product that the average teenager feels like they cannot live without.  Its not bad enough that parents have to worry about cigarettes and alcohol and drugs as a result of peer pressure - but now we also have to worry about how in the hell we, as parents, are going to afford an I-Phone for out teens -so that they, as teens can be free to feel like a normal part of society. 

And of course, since the cost of these coveted I-Phones is freaking outrageous, parents are now trading in savings bonds and pillaging college savings in order to make sure our kids can get one.  Not to mention the fact that teens are now only willing to do chores to earn allowance to pay for MORE data usage, Otter boxes and all the other useless accessories that these phones ‘require.’

And while I’m at it.  Did you have to make a product that actually talks?  Teens already dont talk to their parents enough and Suri has only given them more reasons NOT to ask mom and dad the important questions. With all the advances in technology that you have available at your fingertips, couldnt you have just made Suri our ally, by programming her to say, “go ask your parents,” everytime they asked her something?  Seriously!  Epic Fail.

Iphones, like Facebook should be for adults.  Or only those old enough to pay for them themselves.  Now, where’s the app for that?

Apple.  You SUCK.    (But I sure do enjoy MY I-Phone)

Sincerely,

Parents of Teens

Dear Life #4

Dear Kiddos;

Why is that you have no idea what I am saying, what I am talking about, and cannot hear me when I ask you to clean your room YET can hear everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) I am talking about when I am on the phone.  Even if I am in another room.  Even if I am whispering.  Is there some alarm that goes off in your inner ear when you hear me say your name to another person?  Is this ‘selective listening’ at its finest, just plain nosiness or just another way for you to get under my skin in the hopes that one day you will send me to the asylum?  Just curious.

Love,

Mom

Dear Life #3

Dear Parents Who Dont let Their Kids Watch TV,

I respect your decision to shelter your children.  And I am secretly jealous that you have the time and energy to entertain your child all day with something besides TV, possibly even doing crafts all day that involve glitter (shutter).  But please, keep your dang opinions to yourself and quit imposing your beliefs on those of us who are thankful for the boob tube.  I say to each his own.   Truth is, your children are more likely to turn out weird.  (No offense intended) 

Yours Truly,  Stef

Dear Life #2

Dear Kids,

Next time I take you to the doctor, please refrain from farting in the doctor’s office the minute the nurse closes the door.  This is what bathrooms are for.  And, while funny to see the doctor come in and try to ignore the stench emulating from the room, its embarrassing.  Next TIME….you pay the co-pay with the your allowance money.

Thanks – Love MOM

Dear Life #1

Dear People Who Make MiniVans,

Seriously!? Upholestery AND carpet?  Have you people lost your minds?  Minvans should have a completely washable interior that includes a drain hole in the middle so that all the crud children spill and spit all over the car can conveniently be washed away.  Idiots!  All of you!

xoxo,

Stef