Friday, November 6, 2009

an open letter to my son

My dearest, darling HB,

You are the biggest surprise I've ever had in my entire life. Who knew a nine pound twelve ounce baby could arrive after only 22 weeks of being pregnant?!?! You've added to my life in so many ways, I can barely keep track.

The dimple. In your right cheek. Yes, the one on your face. It kills me. Your big, blue eyes, your gape-mouthed-full-of-teeth smile, that laugh that causes people to stop in their tracks and join in your fun and merriment.

You are so adorable, I can't even stand you. You are going to turn three soon, and you'll probably be hell on wheels, because that's what three year-olds are. We learned quickly that the Terrible Twos was a total misnomer, coined by someone who thought two year-olds were slightly taller and a teensy bit more well-spoken than they really are.

But here's the thing: YOU ARE NOT THREE YET. So dispense with the constant screaming, and I swear to the Almighty Maker of our world if you call me STUPID STUPEY POOPEY one more time I just might start acting all stupid stupey poopey just to show you how good you really have it, buster.

And while we're at it? I really, really, really do not enjoy sliding my half-asleep self under your bed in the middle of the night when you have lost your binky. Maybe if you shouted at me a little less and kept your saucy mouth closed, you wouldn't lose your binky. Just a suggestion.

One final thought: Candy is not a meal.

Hugs and kisses,
aka Stupid Stupey Poopey Head


  1. ha, ha, ha!
    I love it!

    especially the part about the saucy mouth. too funny.


  2. candy is not a meal ... hilarious.

  3. At three years of age, my son called me the worst thing he could think of, "Ya big butt!"

  4. what? candy is not a meal? they don't teach you that in parent school.

  5. what? candy is not a meal? they don't teach you that in parent school.

  6. Isn't that sweet? HB is demanding his independence. Don'cha want to smack him? Oops did I say that? I meant love him.

    The binky thing. Times up. For me by 2 it was time to hang it up. I convinced my son that it was a nasty gross thing. I never bought another one. When the old one got gross we made a big thing about how gross it was. He threw it out on his own. Trickery. The best way to parent.


talk to me, people. because you know i get all giddy when you do.