Hello. Your mother here. You know. The one that carried you for 10 months. Sure, I didn't really know for the whole time. But I still carried you. And PS. Not to go there, but, let me go there: not only did I carry you, but with carrying you came the joy of giving myself a shot each night to remind not only are you there, but I can't eat ice cream or carbo load. It wasn't fun, nor funny. I hate shots, more than I hate being pregnant. While your commute to the world wasn't easy (for me), every day since then hasn't either. Yea, you are adorable. Cute. Funny. Strong (willed). Independent. Smart. Loving (when you are not on the attack). Beautiful. And so much more. But seriously, can we be real here?
|War wounds of sisterly "love."|
- Stop the violence.
- The hitting & scratching, has to stop. If you can't stop the latter, for the love of all that's holy, let me cut your claws semi-regularly.
- We brought you down to one nap to avoid the 4am wake ups. But listen, even though 630am isn't 4am - it's still dark out. Wait until day breaks. For the love.
- Take your one nap. You were at 2 naps at 2-4 hours a POP. How is it down to one nap you are barely clearing 2 hours. I am no math expert, but these numbers don't add up.
- Stop being a snot.
- I know you know how to say more than you let on. I know this because if I catch you at the right moment you do yo thing. This whole all of a sudden you don't know how to say Mama bs? Not.Cute.
- Be careful, tough guy.
- The climbing up, running for the stairs to go down, the putting ridiculousness in your mouth. The lot of danger you brush against each day? Cut.It.Out.
|For the love: SLEEP.|
Lovingly and hoping for a break,
Mama. Go ahead, SAY IT. I know you can!