A Letter to My Angel

The other day, my little cherub, as you were ripping the miniature feathers out of our angel halo, I calmly told you to stop destoying it.  "Give it to Mommy", "NO, I ANGEL", you shouted, as you put the bent, half-wrecked, halo on your head.  That cracked me up.  There are times when I feel like I am seriously on the brink of insanity, and then you make me laugh.  Thank you for that.

While I am thinking of it, thank you for pulling the curtains, with rod, plumb off the wall yesterday.  I have been meaning to take them down to clean them.  If it wasn't for you, those curtains would have remained on the wall for at least another month, or so. The bottoms have been looking like a used tissue, lately.  That reminds me, honey, when you need a tissue, just ask Mommy, I would be happy to get you one.  The air-hanky thing really skeeves me out.  The curtains are in the washer, and it will be thrilling to have squeaky clean curtains again.  It's the little things in a hausfrau's life that make her happy.

After having fished some lime green Play Doh out of my dusty breast pump, it occurred to me that you were trying to tell me something.  You are absolutely right, it IS time to start pumping my milk, and work on weaning your 16 month old brother.  While I am proud to say that my relationship with Play Doh HAS evolved, I would still like to have a few words with the inventor - who I swear must not be a parent.

The Crispix cereal in the mini suitcase was a laugh riot.  Afterall, it WAS stale, so it helped me make the decision to put it in the compost bin.  Some lucky worms will have a nice snack, thanks to your thoughtfulness.

Thank you for helping Mommy vaccum yesterday.  When I said, "Pick up your shirt", I didn't mean with the vaccum.  Although, what a good idea. How wonderful it would be to just vaccum things up that you'd rather not see lying on the floor.  How relieved I was that it ruined the vaccum, rather that your Thomas The Tank Engine T-shirt, being that it is the only item of clothing that you will actually wear these days.  What a blessing that it started smoking, and didn't stop for a good, ten, smelly, minutes.  That vaccum came with the haus, and it has been the bane of my existence since we moved in 6 months ago.  Your father believed that it worked just fine, in all of it's non-sucking, (literally, not figuratively), glory.  I do want to mention that I am glad that it did not suck up those 2 little diamonds that we discovered embedded in our god-awful-used-to-be-a-shag-36-years-ago-carpet.  That is a good reminder to take them to the jeweler to have them appraised.  Who knows, they may actually finance a small European vacation.

Yesterday, when you locked yourself in that room we call your bedroom, (although you have never actually slept in there, despite the cool race car bed that we purchased for you) - the first time you caused me quite a panic.  The second time, I was less concerned, knowing that you knew how to insert the skeleton key into it's keyhole and open the door all by yourself.  I was very thankful to enjoy a sip of HOT coffee, for once.  The screams tipped me off, that it might be a good idea to check in on you.  Good thing, because you managed to slide the key under the door to Mommy this time. 

When I am at my wit's end, I will read this letter that I have written to you.  Hopefully, it will serve as a gentle reminder that you always mean well.  I may not be able to find a reason to thank you for ripping the wallpaper off of the wall, or coloring on it for that matter...but I will continue to search my brain for the lesson that I was supposed to learn from it. Thank you.