Archive for September, 2011

Open Letter To Troy

posted by on 09/28/2011

Dear Troy,

Look, I get it. You apparently developed a loathing for bedtime in utero. I know you come by it naturally because your sister was/is the same. I carried both of you lovingly in my womb for nine months (six years apart), tore my hoohah to shreds to give you the gift of life and I am only asking you for a small favor.

I need you to go to bed.

And stay there.

And I don’t know, maybe go to sleep.

I feel it’s the least you could do, you know, as perhaps a “Thank you mom for all you do”.

But if you think getting out of your bed 27 times between the hours of ten p.m. and two a.m. counts as a fucking thank you, you are straight tripping.

I feel that perhaps you are worried we are up have fun while you are tucked in your bed. Mostly I just want to have another glass of pinot without someone knocking it over, needing their butt wiped or getting someone a snack. Sometimes I watch the DVR, don’t worry, it’s not any of your shows, and fold laundry. Or maybe I just sit on the couch with my laptop, usually in crumbs from the said snack, and look at milk glass on ebay for two hours.

As you can see, it’s a total party.

I’m not sure why I’m explaining this to you because really any fun I try to have after ten p.m. is none of your business.

When I complained to Twitter, like any good mother in 2011 would do, someone recommended putting you to bed with a flashlight, your own flashlight that you were only allowed to have if you were in bed.

When you woke up yesterday, I started talking up your special bedtime flashlight. It was going to be the best! bedtime! flashlight! evah! You were intrigued, you brought up the flashlight a few times throughout the day, mostly if you could have the flashlight NOW.

Once it got dark, I realized that the only flashlight we own is a gigantic 44 pound Mag Lite that belonged to my father, you know, like the kind police can beat people with allegedly. And as much as I want you to go to sleep, putting you to bed with a weapon isn’t a good idea.

Then I remembered your father keeps a little flashlight on top of the TV cabinet to use in case he has video game cord emergencies on the back of the TV. I know technically we aren’t allowed to touch any of your dad’s things, but this is why you were even more stoked to go to bed with a tiny flashlight. Because it’s an off limits tiny flashlight

And you took that tiny contraband flashlight to bed and you didn’t get up ONCE.

Here’s hoping this isn’t the start of something weird, like let’s not take the flashlight to college.

Love you and love you more when you stay in your own bed,



posted by on 09/28/2011

She drew a face on both sides because she likes her pumpkin “to have options”.