A Series of Letters: Part IV (four)

Dear Toilets:

If you want to be clean in the near future, you may just have to do it yourselves.

Dear Neighbor-Across-The-Street-With-A-Steady-Stream-Of-UPS-And-FedEx-Trucks,

I'm sorry that I thought you were dealing drugs instead of running an on-line store of sympathy baskets and baby gifts, but the idea of living near drug lords is a bit more exciting....

Dear Meg,

It is almost impossible to put together a post while you are awake.

You also send mixed messages when you throw all of your blankets onto the floor soon after I put them on you and then the next day, when I get smart (let's pretend I'm always smart, shall we?) and decide to just leave them on the floor rather than cover you, you climb out of your crib and haul all three blankets, plus the pillow, back into your crib and cover yourself up.

Dear Bryce,

I cannot be held responsible for what happens to your tooth brush if you leave it out.

Dear American Idol,

I only suffer through you while I'm waiting for So You Think You Can Dance to start.

Dear Friends on Facebook,

If you were really my 'friends' you wouldn't be so annoyingly optimistic on Monday mornings.

Dear Whoever-Is-Inviting-Us-To-Come-Visit-Over-Memorial-Day-Weekend,

Thank you, and we accept.

Dear Painting-Bryce-Bought-At-A-Gallery-Auction-On-A-Cruise-Because-He-Thought-I-Said-I-Liked-You, But-I-Don't, It-Was-The-Print-BEFORE-You-I-Liked....Not-You,

It's not me, it's you.

Dear Adeline,

I look forward to the time when you are a teenager and I have to go wake you up at 8am rather than you waking me up at 6am.

Dear Hair,

You're in desperate need of a cut, please advise.

Dear Disney,

Making Barbies that sing with just the press of a button and that have no volume control is pretty close to the worst.idea.ever.

Dear Barbies,

Please keep yourselves modest, we have a boy in the house now.

Dear Person-Whose-Bid-Was-$3000-More-Than-A-Competitor,

That's horrible business.

Dear Spring in Medford,

We are NOT friends.

Katie

A Series of Letters: Part III

Dear Meg's Best Friend, Stool,

Stop being so available, you are getting that little girl into a lot of trouble.

Dear Safety Pin of Meg's PJs Used to Keep Her Modest,

You're not supposed to let her figure out how to un-fasten you.

Dear Adeline's Nose and Eyes,

Please stop putting out precipitation.

Dear Sun Room,

I think about you constantly, and there's only one thing keeping me away, money. No hard feelings?

Dear Un-named Baby Boy,

The following is a list of acceptable high-energy times: 12pm-2pm. Please note that I did not say 9pm-11pm.

Dear Chex Muddie Buddies:

You are like the gift that keeps on giving.

Dear Medford Drivers, AGAIN,

If you don't find it in your comfort zone to go the speed of 35 mph, please find an alternative road with a speed limit of 25, heaven knows there's enough of them around here.

P.S. It's called acceleration, it's what one does when the light turns green.....

Dear Bryce,

Thank you for fixing the gaping hole in our wall. And thanks for switching the dryer door, it almost makes me want to do laundry.

Dear Self,

You're awesome, hang in there.

Dear Rat,

I'm so glad that you died and that you didn't tell any of your friends about us before your great demise.

Dear People I Silently Judged for Having Ants in Your Bathroom,

I'm sorry.

Katie

Dear Bryce,

I hope that you enjoyed your last trip to Home Depot by yourself, because it will be your last.

Is this an insane attempt to control your life by playing the victim? Yes, yes it is.

I would just like to recap what happened the last time you went to Home Depot by yourself.

I stayed home with all three girls. They were all in bed. You, in your naivety, thought all was under control.

Minutes after you left the premises, I was summoned by that all too familiar Adeline-sobbing-hysterically-over-'itcouldbeanything' sound.

I bring her down stairs.

I manage to decipher between the hiccups and tears that she has some how managed to lodge a very small wad of toilet paper way, way up her nose.

Now, Bryce, have you ever had to deal with something like this?

Probably not, because you were at Home Depot.

Now onto the confession...I am not a rookie mother. I know perfectly well that you're not actually supposed to try and get the object out for fear of pushing foreign object even further up small tunnel of a nose, if that were possible in this case.

But those doctors have never met a hysterical Adeline.

And I did try other means. I tried having her blow out the toilet paper. Did you know that Adeline thinks sniffing is the same as blowing? At least that's what she believes at 8pm at night when you're gone to Home Depot.

I laid Adeline down, found some tweezers and I pulled that sucker out of there.

I know that you're probably thinking after just such a circumstance I can handle anything when you're gone to Home Depot, but I would rather not test my limits.

Your adoring wife,

Katie

To Tide You Over....

Dear Friends, Followers, and Stalkers:

I would like to take a brief moment to apologize for my sporadic posting. This week we are in the throws of finishing up our house with the anticipation of being moved in by Saturday. I realize I have left many of you in the dark in regards to the efforts on the house. I will mention quickly what has been consuming our time:

Painting our walls blue, meant to be gray.

Taking down some sort of card board facing that had been nailed/stapled to ceilings and floors throughout the house.

Refinishing original hardwood floors which includes pulling up linoleum and other types of flooring from all rooms in the house.

Putting on a new roof. Not done specifically by us, but you get the idea.

Cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning. It is beyond me how a vacant house can be so dirty.

The news that I'm most sorry about....no pictures. As I've mentioned before, our camera has not been working. When I went to turn on the camera to try and troubleshoot the situation, the battery was dead. Where is the battery charger? I have no idea. I hope to uncover it in the next year or so. When I went to buy a new one, I couldn't find a charger, any.where. However, our friends have taken some pictures so hopefully I can get those and get them posted, in the next week or two?

I promise to post on Wednesday with an original potty story.

Stay tuned,

Katie

P.S. I just signed Elizabeth up at her new school....it's all day kindergarten!!!!

A Series of Letters Part II

Dear Hot Shower Every Morning:

You are my salvation.

Dear Meg:

I don't know not to tell you this, but you have a mullet.

Dear Eugene Drivers:

The speed limit is an expectation, not a suggestion. Ten miles below the speed limit is not acceptable.

Dear Contractors in Medford:

You suck.

Dear Elizabeth:

A boy sibling will not be any easier to get along with than a girl sibling, so stop asking for one.

Dear People that I Talked to About My House Being Painted Gray:

Just kidding, it's actually blue. I blame Sherwin-Williams.

Dear Fabric Across the Nation:

I'm coming for you. I have huge plans to utilize you.

To The Lady at the Estate Sale Who Had Great Taste:

Thank you for having not one, but two, Madeliene Brent books. You're my new favorite person, or would be if I had actually known you, and you were still around.

To My Toes:

Why are you always so cold?

Katie

A Series of Letters

Dear Mickey Mouse Clubhouse,

I don't find your hot dog song the least bit annoying.

Dear In-Laws,

When you get home from your week long vacation, you will notice a pile of clean dishes on your counter. I do know how to put dishes away, I just have no idea where those ones go. I thought it would be easier for you to put them away then for you to try and find them after I've put them away.

Dear Rain,

I need you to go away for a while. All you make me want to do is lie in bed and read. Which would be fine, three kids ago.

Dear Architectural Salvage Yard in Eugene,

I know it's been years, but I haven't forgotten about you. I plan to visit as soon as I can. Never mind that I don't have a house yet to decorate.

Dear fabulous real estate agent in Medford whom I haven't met yet, but whom I hope exists,

Please find me the house of my dreams quickly.

Dear Meg's zipper pajamas,

Your job is stay on Meg so she doesn't wake up in the morning naked. Your job is not to amuse Meg at night time by letting her take you off so she doesn't go to sleep.

Dear Bryce,

I miss you a lot. More than I'm going to say right now so that I don't embarrass you in front of my friends. I miss you helping me find my shoes when I've misplaced them.

Dear Eugene School District,

2 1/2 hours of kindergarten is lousy, please make appropriate adjustments.

Dear house in A-town,

I miss you as only a girl can miss her first house.

Dear Hobby Lobby,

Please carefully consider my request for you to move to Medford. I will make it worth your while.

Dear Friends in A-town,

Thank you for being friends worth missing, because I do, a lot.

Dear garage sale,

Thank you for having a vintage, filthy, I'm-not-even-sure-if-it-works type writer that I could buy for $5.

Kind regards,

Katie

To My Devotees:

To all of my faithful followers and closet readers,

I regret to inform you that at this time in my life I have made a difficult and tearful decision. I will be taking a leave of absence for the period of approximately two weeks.

When I am crying everyday over who knows what, acting like a crazy person, trying to pack and purge and find a rental, and dealing with the emotional repercussions of knowing that Bryce will be off training in beautiful California for an extended period of time leaving me home.alone in a new area with three precariously obedient children (and hopefully a large sum of money for the local quilt store so I don't get bored), I lack the motivation, capacity, and/or ability to come up with clever post ideas.

And now for a plea: come back in two weeks, or for honesty's sake let's say 3 weeks. I will be back, and I hope that all of you will too.

Katie

Feel free to leave a comment stating your undying devotion and how terribly I will be missed......

Bryce got a job with the IRS in Medford, OR. We're moving next Wednesday, packing up next Tuesday between 6:30 and 7:30pm so if you live in the area....

An Attempt

Dear Sirs and Madams,

The following document is an actual account from my youth. I will be retelling the event in mock Victorian prose. I currently have no actual historical basis for my verse, excepting the fact that I have a literary love affair with one, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

During my years in school, I was an innocent and a young man, who shall remain nameless to protect his reputation, and mine, had been courting me. We had come into acquaintance while participating in the sport of track and field.

Our courtship consisted of covertly holding hands on the bus rides to and from the meets and frequent visits to the local theater. This young man was of the working class and employed at a sandwich bistro.

After one such date - time has dimmed my recollection - him and I were making an effort at polite conversation after he had returned me safely home to my parent's residence.

And then I shudder to think what happened next. He tried to take advantage of me and the situation. I called my faculties to the present and - in a very unladylike manner - restrained his attempt by firmly placing my hands on either side of his head and forcing it backwards. He plainly did not receive the message I was sending and attempted another kiss. I can not recall the conversation that took place afterwards, although one may assume that is was awkward at best.

When he next requested an outing, I politely declined and ended the courtship. My parents, I am sure, were thankful for he did not have a large estate nor a large fortune.

Happily married to my first kiss,

Katie

From one mother to another

Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday.

I'm sorry I ever talked to you while you were in the bathroom. I was under the misconception that that was a perfect time to have you all to myself. Little did I realize it was the only time you had to yourself.

I'm sorry that I was colicky.

I'm sorry for all the times I ever told you 'no', 'you're not the boss of me', 'I'm bored', 'will you play with me?', 'what's for dinner?', 'I don't like this', 'I'm going to run away', 'why do you like Kimberly more than me?', 'why did you have so many kids?', 'the only reason you had so many kids was so you didn't have to do any work', etc.

I'm sorry if I ever upchucked, spit up, blew out, or snotted on you.

I'm sorry that when I was 13 I would want to sleep in your bed because Emily made me watch this really horrible movie that I was obviously too immature to watch and therefore I was having nightmares about the injustices in Africa.

I'm sorry I woke you up insanely early on Christmas morning.

I'm sorry I tattled. In my defense, there was so much to tattle about and someone had to do it. Just taking one for the team.

I'm sorry that I would hide my meatloaf in my baked potato skin. And if I didn't do that, I'm sorry that I would rather do someone else's chores rather than eat my meatloaf.

I'm sorry if I was naughty during sacrament meeting, but it could have been someone else, there were nine of us, after all.

I'm sorry if I ever made you cry out of frustration and desperation.

I'm sorry that I was in the ICU with a ruptured appendix, and then after a while, with no appendix.

I'm sorry that I blubbered to you about my crush Ryan liking Ashley better than me in 4th grade.

I'm sorry that I embarrassed you by eating my boogers.

I'm sorry about the times I tagged along with you garage selling on Saturday mornings.

I'm sorry for the times I whined and complained when you were doing my hair.

I'm sorry for all the occasions when I made you feel guilty for not being a better mom.

I'm sorry for that one time we were in the car and you had your book with you and I started reading it out loud to you while you were driving and it was some sort of Harlequin Romance and there were children with us. I was just trying to be helpful. I know what it's like when I'm in the middle of a good book.

I love you, Happy Birthday. Here's to another 57 years. (If you do live that long, we all know that it will be Kimberly and Emily taking care of you.)

Katie

Sun

Dear Mr. Sun, (I'm assuming you're a male, why else would you be so fickle?)

Where have you been? I've been missing you desperately. Things just aren't the same between us anymore.

When you're here, it's not like you're really here.

Did I do something?

Usually you're the light of my life, but lately, not so much.

And Mr. Sun, when you do come, why do you insist on waking up the kids so they can see you? It's awfully selfish of you.

You're not as warm and inviting as you have been in the past. In fact, you haven't been warm for months.

So Mr. Sun, I'm sorry if I've done something. But please come back, and stay for a while.

Devotedly,

Katie

To Whom It May Concern:

I am sure many of you have been wondering why, when I am such an obviously brilliant writer, I have chosen not to take the path most often trod and not started a blog before this week.

Allow me the privilege of illuminating.

1. I did not want to be one of THOSE people who say 'Hey you should read my blog, it's only one post long and I started it 6 months ago, but it's really great.'

2. I am a LIAR. Who would read a liar's blog? But, it's true, I lie. I lie about Christmas, Bryce can ask me a question point blank about a present, and WITHOUT even blinking I can lie to his face. One time I thought it would be fun to lie to my mom about not being able to bring my sister home for Christmas. My sister pulled it off exceptionally well, but in a rare moment, honestly, it was my idea.

3. The whole idea of blogging is self-absorbed, narcissistic, and egotistical. Believing that someone out there will care what's going on with me. Not that I think of all of YOU out there are that way.

4. I am not an eternal optimist. Some people are, and that's great. I do not always like my children, my life is not always great, my kids do not say brilliant, intelligent phrases, my DIY projects don't always turn out, etc., etc., etc. (as said from The King and I).

5. I have never been called Stewart, Martha or any combination of the two.

6. I do NOT have a great camera. My (our, if Bryce wants to claim it) camera is so old, they don't even make a memory card for it any more, you have to press it together in a certain way to make it take a picture, and it's been dropped more times than the ball at New Year's Eve (lame comparison, I know). And we are not a photogenic family, with perhaps the exception of Meg.

7. While I don't think people out there should read this blog, that doesn't mean I don't want them to and wouldn't be hurt if they didn't. (I'm sure that made complete sense.)

Regardless of all of my reservations, I have started a blog (obviously).

Please do a girl a favor and click on the followers button, even if you're a closet reader.

Katie

A Reply

Dear Katie,

I will keep this brief. At the risk of sounding 'suffocating' please reconsider, I cannot possibly live without you.

While it is true that I have been unfaithful, can you say, in your heart of hearts that you have ever felt neglected?

When you had no one else, you ALWAYS had me. Consistent, and never changing.

I am calm and patient, just waiting for you to notice me.

Don't be hasty and please, no t-shirts,

Yours, forever and always,

Dust

Dust

Dear Dust,

I am sorry to say, but I am ending things. I know that we have this same talk about every time this year, but this time, I'm serious.

Why? do you ask?

You're unfaithful. I'm sorry to put it so bluntly, but I must. I saw you at a friend's house the other day (I won't say who). How could you!

You're suffocating. I give you an inch, you take a mile.

You smell BAD. It's true, you do.

I feel that our relationship has gone stale. It's the same thing, over, and over, and over again.

All you do is take, and all I do is give.

I'm going to start a support group, we're going to have t-shirts, and I'm going to get over you....starting tomorrow, I am kind of busy today.

Katie