Dear Precious Four-Month-Old Miss T:

I love you more than you’ll ever know. You are just about the sweetest baby I have ever encountered. However, I’ll thank you to please stop trying to sit up every time you are in a position that is even remotely horizontal. Especially when I am trying to feed you. Your perseverence is to be admired, particularly since babies aren’t expected to sit without support until at least six months. That tenaciousness and drive will serve you well in life. But stop with the curling up like a little cooked shrimp every time I try to give you a bottle. It makes feeding you even harder than usual.

Many thanks and much love,
Your Mom

*****

Dear Other Drivers on the Road:

I have an interesting factoid for you: those white signs that you see on the side of the road with the big black numbers on them? Are telling you how fast you can drive. And if the signs read “65”, it is really best for everyone involved if you at least try to get your speed somewhere in that general vicinity. I’ll even take 55 at this point. But those of you oblivious asshats who are driving 40? Every single day, in both lanes, when I am already late for work? CAN GO TO HELL. Don’t worry, though. At the rate you drive you won’t make it there for a while.

Kisses!
NonSoccerMom

*****

Dear Self:

What the hell were you thinking? Why did you actually think that going grocery shopping for a family of four, by yourself, for an entire month’s worth of groceries was a good idea? Are you on drugs? You should have thrown in the towel when you were only a quarter of the way through the list an hour into the ordeal. As much as it would have killed your pride, you should have just gotten the essentials at that point, gone home, and admitted to your smug smarty-pants husband that maybe, just MAYBE, shopping for almost $400 worth of groceries all at one time is not a one-woman operation. Yes, he would have made fun of you for throwing such a fit about doing it yourself and being so indignant about the whole thing. But would that really have been any worse than the blow your ego endured while pushing one overflowing cart in front of you and pulling another behind? I don’t think the checkout clerk believed you when she asked how you were doing and you said that you had lost the will to live. But I know that you were speaking the truth. And now we’ve learned a little lesson about not having to do everything yourself, haven’t we?

Kind regards,
Me

P.S. It would have been more helpful for you to remember that you loathe grocery shopping BEFORE you began last night’s little expedition.