Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Pretend These Are Post-Its

Only Parent Chronicles


It's Post-It Note Tuesday today. I started off with some pretend PINs, some fun ones I was trying to make myself, but instead my daughter took over. It figures, right?


I'm totally OFF today. I don't feel like dealing with superstickies, but I have a lot I can say to plenty of people, so let's just envision post-it notes all over my lovely 'hood for you all to see -- OK?


First:


CHILD. PLEASE STOP DRIVING MOMMY TO DRINK. I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR WINE AT 11AM, OR AT 1PM, OR, TRULY, AT 5:17 PM, EITHER. BUT IF YOU DON'T SLOW THINGS DOWN A BIT I MAY CRACK OPEN THAT BOTTLE SOONER RATHER THAN LATER. I LOVE YOU, ** YOUR MOM


Wow. This is awesome. No character limits!


Second:


DOG of MINE,
Make up your freakin' mind, please, as to whether or not you want to be in or out. Because while I enjoy the unlimited exercise you provide for me daily as I walk to and from the kitchen door, sometimes it grows really old. As in REALLY fast. Seriously. I love you, ** The Hand That Feeds
p.s PLEASE STOP CHASING PLANES. We've lived here almost four years, have you not yet realized you are not going to catch one?

Third:

Hey, Kiddo -- by the way, I'm getting a little tired of cut up pieces of paper all over the kitchen table, floor and the living room. No more scissors. EVER. End of story. I love you! *Mommy


Oh, lookie at this, exactly as I am typing this out AT said table, the child is on a stool in the kitchen looking for her scissors. SWEAR TO GAWD. No joke.


Fourth:


To my dear, sweet, 3-1/2 year old beautiful little girl,
That grunting and face-making you do when I tell you no and make you stop doing something is not going to get you very far. Not with me, not with your father, and it's certainly going to hold you back from becoming a beauty queen, cause, ya know what? Your face might freeze that way. Or worse, I'll take pictures and use them when your future friends come over, future love interests, and campaign managers. Oh, don't push me, I MEAN IT.

And Lastly:


Dear Hubby,

I appreciate that you warned me you'd be headed out after work tonight. I am OK with you going, even though you just called me at 5:15 to remind me. I just have one question? How is it that when you leave work to go out you're out the door and on your cell at, oh, yes, 5:15? And when you're coming home to us the phone rarely rings before 6:30PM? It's interesting, isn't it? Just something I thought I'd point out ... Love you!


So, there you have it, peeps. My pretend Post-It Notes for today. Oh, wait, let me show you what I was trying to do earlier. If I can find them. Yeah, here are two, I tried a few but didn't save the first two correctly. Good times ...




6 comments:

adrienzgirl said...

Sometimes STICKIES just don't let you say everything you need to say!

:)

Kimberly said...

Dude we can drink together while we numb the incessant barking dog and the incessant demands of our kids LOL. PS. I think that the scribblings on the PINT is a great touch...were you drinking? Kidding...maybe ;)

Shell said...

I think I would have had that glass of wine!

Daffy said...

Not that I'm comparing my child to your dog...okay I am...but she would often yell with outstretched arms "Plane I coming! Wait!" every time she would see a plane fly over. No idea where she picked that gem up but it always cracked me up. Figured Southwest should use in a commercial or something!

Alyson -- Common Sense, Dancing said...

I think we may lead parallel lives.

Hate to break it to you, but if Miss Thing with her scissors and little scraps of paper is making you bonkers now, just wait. My 8 year old boy is Mr. Craft King and the debris just keeps coming.

Does your dog talk to mine? I've been leaving the door open lately because I can't stand the in-out-in-out-in-out game that my life has become. MAKE A DECISION ALREADY.

And give in to the wine. Some days it's not worth it to fight it.

Secret Mom Thoughts said...

I totally relate to the scissors. Ours are hidden. LOL about the dog chasing the planes. Too funny.

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