Mom of Many Male Youngsters

Open Letter to the local Teenage Geese


Dear local Teenage Geese,

Just a couple things to keep in mind so you do not GET KILLED:

  1. Look both ways before crossing.
  2. Please cross with the light.
  3. When the light changes you may want to hurry just a bit. That leisurely pace is not the best idea when people are running late for work.
  4. Yes, it is fun to watch everyone stop and wait for you to cross. I understand it gives you a great feeling of power. Just remember it only takes one person who doesn’t care to get you killed.
  5. Please remember: YOU. CAN. FLY.

Thank you for your time and attention to this matter.



For the Record


I have never said the Biltmore’s Who’s Who was a scam.

I was responding to a letter I received from them. A letter stating I was an outstanding executive/business person. At the time I was a stay-at-home mom. I have never been an executive nor a business person.

Please person from Biltmore that keeps e-mailing me… stop trying to sell me on what a great networking opportunity it is. I do not care. I’m sorry your son cut his eyebrow. And yes, it shows me you read at least one other post on my site. It will not sway me if you tell me how you kept reading because you could relate.


Letter to the Parenting Gods


Oh ye parenting Gods, I apologize. I’m sorry. I take it back. I shall never say I do not worry about any of my children again. Really. I promise. Just please put them back the way they were.

Wait, it seems you have. The one that went off the deep end yesterday? He is fine today. Fine. Nothing wrong. Nothing to see here, move along.

While I, I am a mess. I’m about to break down in tears at any moment. The stress of his outburst last night just about killed me. For real. He was leaving and not coming back. He was not going to school, he was not coming home. Ever.

Now this may be cute when a five year old says it but when an eleven year old who walks to and from school says it? Also, when he is not screaming it and instead is saying with a calm determination? It is scary.

Why all the drama? I’m not even sure. Something about the baseball game not going well. And possibly a thoughtless comment by someone. He was ready to quit the team, quit the flute, quit anything he’s involved with because it is just too much. I think he was trying to quit the family too but I wouldn’t let him.

Oh, then he threatened his brother who got scared enough to PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE. Yes, my sweet boys threatened each other and then one of them punched another IN. THE. FACE. Which only caused the punchee to threaten to kill the puncher who then was afraid to sleep in the same room or even BE in the same room as the punchee. Death threats were flying – and we do NOT allow death threats in this family – parents were becoming raging lunatics because of said death threats, screaming was occurring, tears were flowing. It was ugly. It was late. It was never-ending. And it was exhausting.

And then everyone went to sleep in their own beds and woke up all sunshine and roses. Except me. I want to sleep for a week. And cry. But first I have to get everyone on the bus.

Open Letter to Biltmore’s Who’s Who People


Dear sadly misinformed people at Biltmore’s Who’s Who,

Yesterday I received a very curious envelope from you.

You informed me you were considering including me in your 2006/2007 Who’s Who of Executives and Professionals.

Excuse me as I pick myself off the floor. My sides are hurting from the laughter.

Can we say scam? Or are you trying to taunt me? Are you just mean? Trying to shove in my face that I do not even fall into one of the mentioned categories? The only thing I’m an executive of is this house. Maybe that’s what it is. Executives and Professionals of the HOME. Except I don’t even excel at that.

Oh, goodness. The tears. The laughter. The exercise my stomach muscles are getting from this letter.

In closing I would ask you to do a bit of RESEARCH before mailing such letters. Unless of course you are just mean. Then by all means continue with your flagrant disregard for actual fact. In the case of you trying to scam me? Again, I mention RESEARCH. It would work much better.

Sincerely in pain from the laughter,

PS – Written on 8/20/2007
Another letter? Are you kidding me? Seriously?

Open Letter to the Febreze People


Dear Scenty Febreze People,

I am writing to ask you to design a new product. But first some background…

I am not a scent person. Candles, plug-ins, sprays – ick. They either make me nauseous or give me a headache. So imagine my delight when you introduced your original Febreze spray for fabrics. It takes away bad scents. Leaves no perfumey smells. Yay! Febreze.

My conundrum is my boys. The oldest has just dipped his toe into the aromas of adolescence. The second is not far behind and after that it is just one after another that shall stink up my home. I’m not sure when the smell fest ends but I seem to recall some of the boys’ dorm rooms freshman year of college as not being so aromatic. That gives me a minimum of 13 years to deal with this ever growing problem. THIRTEEN. YEARS.

What I need you to do is invent a spray that attaches to the ceiling and sprays your original febreze over the entire room periodically. You’d have to be able to set the times to spray as we don’t want the offspring inhaling the stuff while sleeping and I’m not sure what it would do to their skin after repeated sprays. But, it will need a remote so if the offending smells start wafting from under the door into my office I could have it give a good spray. Yes, my office is outside my oldests’ room. I. NEED. HELP.

The best part of the whole deal is I won’t have to actually enter their rooms to deal with the smell and it would hit the sheets, clothes, offending gym/sports clothes, dirty hamper, etc. all in one shot.

PLEASE, begin work on this product immediately. I need your help. I figure you have approximately 1-2 years to get this product on the market before I am forced to leave my home. I consider this appropriate notice of my needs.

Thank you very much.


« Older Entries