Monday, March 28, 2011


Dear Children, 

When I was little my daddy assured me that when I grew up I would turn into a boy. That all little girls grew up to be boys and all little boys turned into girls. Now, with a nostalgic twinkle and gentle smile, he tells of my response. 

 I wailed.

 "When I grow up I want to be a mamma!"

I have always wanted to be a mamma. To have a house full of kids, running and laughing and playing is my idea of bliss. The joy and open mouthed wonder a two year old has at the first sight of a ladybug makes me feel a resurgence of life in my own heart. Watching the lightbulb flicker and then burst into brilliance above a child's head when they figure out that they are READING! Really, truly, absolutely READING for the first time makes my heart swell and out bubbles blissful laughter. Hearing two siblings, who have been mortal enemies for years, now quietly visiting and gently playing have me quietly wiping thankful tears.

This is what I have always longed for.

The long nights of post surgery births, the painful pull of stitches, the bumps of excited brothers looking at the new baby brought joy to my spirit. Here was a new life; full of wonder and love and delight to share.

Endless dirty bottles, always smelling of spit up, blown out diapers; put in the proper place of context were just a momentary hardship. 

Temper tantrums, lies, spilled milk; were the training ground for the future battles I would face.

Personalities, temperaments, learning styles; all unique, never duplicated in other siblings made me learn to adapt and be flexible, stretching me in ways I never expected.

Research, racking my brain and stretching my resources, searching for the answer to what was wrong in hearts and minds has been duly rewarded with progress and change. That filled me with hope. Lessons learned through the hardest of times carry me on still today.

You children have shaped me. Changed me. Filled me up and wrung me out. You make me laugh. Weep. Scream. You challenge my mind. You stretch my heart. 

And I wouldn't change it all for anything.

Love forever, 

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Family Court

Dear Plaintiffs:

It has recently come to my attention that I have been accused of crimes against you, my two younger sisters. Your complaints have been include in this official* court document.
*official, as  this is officially my blog and I can pretty much say whatever I want...

I have been accused of laughing in delight when people think that I am the younger of the sisters. My response may have been immature but was not meant to be malicious in any way. I don't care what you told mom, "neener neener" is not technically a mean word.

It is my opinion that the statute of limitations has passed for the following list of your accusations;
ripping off ears of special stuffed rabbits, slamming doors in faces (or quickly sliding it shut, depending on what era you are referring to), ignoring requests to play, tattling, not showing you my super cool stuff, general teasing, and being too cool to even look at you. 

If it pleases the court, I ask that all charges of face making, tongue protruding, and forty crow giving be stricken from the record.

 In addition I would ask that my record be forever expunged of the charges of my using clever and witty words to "torment" said siblings. I ask the prosecuting parties to supply actual proof that I meant harm when I allegedly hid the plaintiff's eyeglasses in the cupboard with the drinking glasses and, to quote the plaintiff's petition in Wren v. Lark, "teased her, saying that she could find them where glasses are supposed to be". 

I also ask for consideration in the case of Robyn v. Lark, where I allegedly called her dog a canine and her cow a bovine, in a "singsongy" voice, implying that it was a bad thing. I call into question her interpretation of those events. I will argue that I was merely attempting to teach her the proper nomenclature of said pets. 

But for my final argument I would like to remind the court of Blood v. Water. That case has set the precedent for all future cases. Blood won that short court battle and forever stilled the argument that siblings may be convicted for alleged "crimes" against siblings and other family members. I believe that this case firmly follows in the precedent set forth by Blood v. Water as all alleged pranks, mischievousness, and teasing fall under the "no harm no foul clause".

 Or in the case of Robyn and Wren v. Lark, the 
"no harm no fowl clause". 

With mostly sincere sincerity and truly profoundly profound apologies,
The Defendant (aka Lark)

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Insert Eye Roll Here

Dear Mom,

Now that I am a mom of my own, I can understand why you told us certain things.

Watch for cars as you ride your bike down the street. 
Wash your hands before dinner.
 Of course.
Wait until your father gets home. 
Been there, said that.

You taught us so many things; 
a love of reading, learning, (for some of us) a love of the great outdoors, to love Jesus, to be witty, to rope, to laugh, to love family.

But there are a few things I still don't understand.

1. Nothing bad happens if I lift the lid while the rice is cooking. For years I was sure it would mean the imminent demise of the world as we know it. 

2. Saying the word "fart" is acceptable in polite (ish) society. I obey when told to respect my elders and I don't want to be eaten by bears (remember when you told us that story?!). 
Because I fear for my very life, I will not publish your replacement word for that bodily function. I still remember the day I realized that 
 not one other family, used your word. Probably the first time I realized I was 
(No worries, Mom, it certainly wasn't the last time and you were not the sole reason for that state of my being. Dad helped, too.)

3. Calling someone a jerk was not allowed, but calling them a "muscle spasm" was?

4. Seriously cookies DO need the amount of sugar called for in the recipe. Yes, they do.
Whole wheat does not belong in cake.
 As much as you want to fool yourself, there was no fooling us. 
We were just desperate. So we ate them.

5. The verdict is still out on whether or not I will go to hell for dancing and playing cards. Guess we'll see whose right on that one later. 
See ya in heaven - wanna play Texas Hold 'Em there?

6. So far no one has died of typhoid from my messy bedroom. Twenty years later and it pretty much looks the same. Sorry about that.

I always thought that when I grew up I would finally understand all that you taught us. I'm all grown up. When does the Great Enlightenment finally come?

Until then I'll be perfecting my eye roll,

P.S. I used my creative license in taking or ignoring your corrections on the first draft. Whatcha gonna do about it? Spank me?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Oh look! It's sparkly!

Dear Disco Balls, 

Your very sparkliness makes life much more fun. The delight you cast with each flicker, the joy you spread with each flash makes me envy you.

If fact, I am seriously contemplating installing one of you in every light fixture in my house. Everyone needs a little more sparkle in their eyes, right?

So, I decided to do a thorough research into this idea. (Read: I wasted an hour on the internet.) After looking at all my options - from professional lighting to DIY - I got bored and started watching YouTube videos. 

You had your day in the sun, so to speak.

On to other things, 

Monday, March 14, 2011

Pinch This!

Dear Pennies, 

I sincerely apologize for the unceasing pinching I have put you through lately. I hope you understand. It's not that I don't want to rub two of you together. It's just that you look so wrung out after all the squeezing I do. 

I would really like to try that deal where you save one to earn one. Is that kinda like a buy one get one free deal? Or is it some sort of pyramid scheme? It does sound a little too good to be true.

Why is it that they say they'll pay one of you for someone's thoughts, but if I wanted to tell them what I was thinking then I have to give them two cents? Seems slightly suspicious to me. If they want my thoughts so badly, you would think they would be willing to cough up that extra penny. And frankly, I think my opinions are worth a lot more than that. But I often give them away for free.

I ought to rethink this situation. 

But mostly, Mr. Penny, I wanted to thank you. I know you often hear how useless you are. How we should just do away with you altogether. And that must be really discouraging. 

I thought you ought to hear how I appreciate you. You allow my little boy to feel generous. You see, I never give him silver coins. But you, I'll give. That allows him to share his money and feel like Daddy Warbucks. That makes you special, Penny. I wonder, do you ever notice how a kid's face will light up when he picks you up off of the ground? You must feel so neglected, lying there. But you give joy and generosity. 

And it only costs a penny. 

That's my two cents worth, 

Friday, March 11, 2011

Ode to Toilet Paper

Dear Toilet Tissue, 

I was noticing on your packaging that you tout that you are "hypoallergenic" and "dermatologist approved".

Does that mean some toilet paper is allergenic and dermatologist deplored?
Do I really need to start reading labels on my TP? 

Warning: This paper made out of peanuts, pet dander, and/or rag weed.

Warning: This paper made at a facility that may also process stinging nettles, poison ivy, and itching powder.

Thanks for stating the obvious, 

Thursday, March 10, 2011


Dear Blog, 

Is it just happenstance or is it deliberate maliciousness on your part? Don't you find it a little ironic that the words that you have highlighted by a larger font in my 
Labels column  Look over there -------------------------}                                                             
are "food" and "sarcasm"? 

What are you trying to tell the world?

Thinking you may know me too well, 

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Book Gestapo

Dear Banned Book List, 

You have on your list some of our very favorite books. The kids and I have shared chapters from Huckleberry Finn, James and the Giant Peach, My Friend Flicka, and even Little Red Riding Hood.
 I was surprised to find some of my favorite books, ones I consider classics and "must reads" like To Kill a Mockingbird. And others that we have read in lit class for our schooling. Lord of the Flies, Silas Marner, and imagine my surprise to find even the Dictionary listed!

I was wondering, could we switch some of these out for a new candidate? You see, my middle son has found a new love of reading Calvin and Hobbes books. At first I didn't see any problem. At least he's wants to read, right? Begging me for a few more minutes each night seemed like a good thing. 

But, Book List, these books are dangerous.... 

They are causing a metamorphous in my little boy. It started with little phrases. I asked him to do a chore and he told me he wasn't feeling enthusiastic about that chore and he shouldn't have to do anything he didn't feel enthusiastic about. 

Classic Calvin smart mouth symptoms. 

Now my boy prays for snow so that he can make morbid snowman art in the front yard. 

By Bill Watterson

But I fear the change is almost complete. You see, now they are starting to not only sound alike and act alike but even LOOK alike.
Not Calvin

Please, for the sake of my  children. Ban Calvin now. Before it's too late.

A concerned mother, 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


Dear Writers Block, 

Bite me. You could only keep me down for so long. But I am back. And I have a list of things to tell the world this week. And you can't stop me. So there.

Taking MY world back, 

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Dear Universe,

You must think that you are a riot. Ha. Ha. I am so not laughing at this twist of fate.

Due to increasing gas prices, we purchased a van to replace the Suburban-beast. And the van we could afford? A GMC Safari.

Ok, I think, ok, so it's a little boxy. Not fun or sexy.
Boring brown.
Like driving a brick with wheels.

But I can get past all of that. For the sake of my wallet.

But I blithely ignored all the warning signs. The boxiness. The glaring lack of visual appeal.

I ignore the fact that it has a CD left in the player - it's the best loved songs of Bill and Gloria Gaither. 

I ignore that it came with a handicap sticker.

But I cannot ignore the fact that I am a woman of average height and I have to stoop to see out of the windshield. Let me expound. 

When I am one of the first 2 cars at a stoplight, I have to BEND DOWN to see if the light is changing. It appears that the optimal viewing height through this van's windshield is 1.5 inches above the steering wheel. 

I am now the proud owner of a old lady car. 

Ha. Ha.

Turning in my Young Mom card for an Old Lady membership,