I was doing a little bit of tag surfing this morning, and I stumbled across this blog post. I had to giggle at the points she made, because I have the SAME problems with my kids. I wanted to read more, so I followed her link to this post. Both sites are very enjoyable, and I will be doing more in-depth reading on them when I get the chance.
For today’s post I am going to repost her letter. It’s that good. (All credit goes to Mir from wouldashoulda. Go check her out. I laughed. Out loud. Several times.)
Dear Sir and Madam:
It it with a heavy heart and much regret that I feel the need to inform you of my decision to tender my resignation as Greatest Mother In The World. We all know that lately I’ve simply become unable to keep up with the demands of the position, and I wish to fall back at this time to something more befitting my capabilities.
This morning I feel that perhaps Mom Who Does Just Enough might be a more suitable choice. Or—should you feel it a better selection—Serviceable Mom. I shall leave it to your discretion as to which would be most useful to the organization as a whole.
I do thank you for the chance to be something more, but now that I’ve realized exactly how thankless this position really is, I’m afraid I am simply going to have to suggest that you get your own damn breakfast in the future.
So, effective immediately, here are the changes I propose:
1) If I spend my entire morning accompanying your class on a field trip, when you later come home and start mouthing off and stomping around, I shall not be expected to either be kind or care about whatever your major malfunction is. If, in addition, said field trip started with an unexpected 90-minute wait for the bus to show up—90 minutes during which I could’ve been at home working—I shall be entitled to suggest that you please continue your fit upstairs where I do not need to look at your ungrateful little pouty face.
2) If you’ve wrung me dry during the previous week, should you elect to sob over the almost-empty toothpaste tube, I will continue to provide squeezing assistance, but I will also be allowed to ask you when you turned from an 8-year-old boy into a 2-year-old girl.
3) I will no longer make wake-up rounds in the morning, gently coaxing and cajoling the two of you awake and out of bed, rechecking to make sure you’re up, and yelling the current time up the stairs while morning preparations are made. Your alarms will be set and you can rise or not as you see fit. As you will be fixing your own morning meal (to save me the grief over placing inferior sustenance before you), you’ll have plenty of time to determine what would be the best breakfast choice for your WALK to school, as your failure to be ready on time will result in forfeiture of your ride.
4) I will only launder the clothes I find inside of the hamper. Clothes near the hamper or squirreled away elsewhere in the house shall remain unwashed. Complaints about favored items being unavailable shall be met with a sad song played on my tiny violin.
5) Items left on my desk become my property to keep or dispose of as I see fit. Period. I am pretty sure I didn’t leave my rock collection next to my keyboard (as I don’t have a rock collection) and if you couldn’t be bothered to put it away, I can’t be bothered to ask you fifteen times to take your stuff. Sorry.
6) Dishes left on the table at the end of a meal shall be used in their unwashed state to serve the next meal on. Mmmm mmmm good.
7) Crumbs, banana peels, and cereal bar wrappers which are not disposed of properly shall be transferred to your beds for safekeeping.
8 ) Any request to “help” with homework which you are perfectly capable of completing on your own shall result in my leaving the house for a scenic walk. On the down side, you’re going to be spending a lot of time alone, I think. But on the bright side, I should be 10 pounds lighter in no time!
9) Rather than attending every activity, as I’ve been doing, I’ll try to get to a few if I can fit it into my schedule. You won’t mind; after all, the criticism I’ve drawn while showing up for absolutely everything has indicated that my presence has gone completely unnoticed, anyway. Let me know when something big is happening and I’ll see if I have an opening.
10) I will no longer be participating in arguments about the weather. If you’re convinced you won’t be too hot/too cold in that outfit, and/or that you don’t need a jacket, fine. You’re right; you DO know better than me. Enjoy your day wearing whatever you’ve deemed appropriate. I’ll no longer be paying attention to any subsequent whining, so have at it!
Again, I’m sorry that it’s come to this, but I think the resignation of my post and subsequent reorganization will be for the best, all around. I do appreciate the opportunity and wish you all the best in your future endeavors.