Dear week, you aren’t quite happening like I planned. Please get yourself in order. Dear Madeline, thank you for the impromptu demonstration of what people do when they are poisoned. I have no idea how you came up with that. It’s also a little alarming that your baby (Pink-Pink) has been poisoned no less than six times. You really should keep a better eye on her. Dear 30 degree weather, I am LOVING you. Stick around. Dear Susannah, you really are a child of the south. And yes, we will turn on the “hot air conditioner” for you.
Dear Susannah, I’m not sure when you became such a little organizer, but you’re slowly killing me with all of your “projects.” Oh, and next time you organize the garage, please don’t stack everything right in front of the freezer. Also, don’t booby-trap your work with weights. My foot doesn’t thank you. Dear Madeline, even though you seem to have no doubt about it, I’m not sure that God looks just like Colonel Sanders. Dear me, I just don’t know what to say to you for having more phone apps than both Jerm AND Billy. There’s something very wrong with that. Dear Mad, whatever possessed you to take off all of your clothes except my gigantic shoes and have a long singing session on the toilet? I’m never quite sure what I’m going to find when I go check on absentee kids who’ve locked themselves in the bathroom.
Dear Madeline, although it’s awesome that when you grow up you want to be a grandma, you might want to survive motherhood first. Good luck with that. Dear Susannah, I love how excited you are to start school. I’ll ask you again in a month. Dear self, it’s kind of freaky how quickly you changed your mind about your absolutely-no-dog-ever rule when you saw those puppies. I don’t even know you anymore. Dear Jerm, even though you’re the only sane one….have you changed your mind about the puppy yet?
Dear Madeline, I’m going to miss your tiny training-wheel-less bike flying down the sidewalk. I’ve never seen a kid ride such a little bike before. Dear Susannah, your questions and logic are killin me, smalls. Please, just give my brain a break once in a while. Dear Jerm, thanks for suffering (in silence) through the world’s longest shopping trip last weekend. I had a blast (even if you didn’t). Dear Madeline (again), you have an answer for everything, don’t you? If only I could somehow write in your squeaky voice so the rest of the world could hear how cute you are. Dear self, you’re totally scoring on the smokin deals this week. Go you.
Dear Madeline, you’re really a nut. Especially when you draw super long, twisted snakes and then when we comment on it’s extreme length reply that “yeah, it’s because he really needs a haircut.” Dear Susannah, when did you become so grown up? It kills me when you very seriously say stuff like, “Mom, I’m tellin ya, it just wouldn’t be good.” Dear Jerm, thanks for not making us do the entire haul to Colorado in one day. I don’t think I could have handled any more “are we there yets” by the time we got to Amarillo. Dear Mad (again), No, you can’t “dwound” as soon as your head goes under the water in the pool. But I know it was scary. As you say, “good gweef.”
A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
– inspired by SouleMama
Dear Madeline, just because a tree is dead does not mean that it’s poisonous. Thanks for telling us that like you know, though. Dear Jerm, the mommy song you made up with the girls is adorable. It’s even funnier when you conduct with your socks. Dear cold, you picked a bad week. You should know that sickness during birthday-prep week is off-limits. Dear Susannah, daddy was very offended when you told him that his “skirt was soooo handsome.” Even though you used your super-sweet, two-octaves-higher-than-normal voice that you save for when you’re being especially nice. He wants you to know that they were shorts, NOT a skirt. I’ll repeat it again for good measure. Daddy doesn’t wear skirts. 😉