Saturday, March 9, 2013


Dear Violet, that solitary tear running down your face doesn't make me flinch. It doesn't erase the fact that you just told me that I am a bad mom.

Dear Cinderella, I have all of you memorized. ALL OF YOU. "By royal command, every eligible maiden is to attend..."

Dear Husband of 10 years, yo, 10 years. Anniversary was on Thursday and it was awesome. Dining at Communal in Provo. Things like Yukon Gold potato puree, passion fruit panna cotta, braised beef shanks, creamy fried polenta, PB and chocolate semi-fredo and braised leek salad with frisee and beet vinaigrette. It was all so dreamy. And then the show right after across the street. A few awesome local bands and then our favorite, Tyrone Wells, a guy we saw years ago while at the House of Blues on Sunset. Killer good show. Perfect night. Ethan, I love you. Lots.

Dear Baby Back Ribs in the Fridge, you had better be worth it. Jack of course chooses an expensive birthday dinner for tomorrow night. Because 8 is great, we are having ribs. He has also requested a chocolate mint cake and broccoli.

Dear Potty Training, we have been going at this since the beginning of January and it still isn't perfectly mastered. Violet had been my hardest. The boys were EASY, literally the cliche phrase "overnight". But Vi is a completely different story. She prefers to twosie in her underwear and it drives me batty. I have resorted to chocolate bribary. Mini Kit Kats. So far, it helps, but it still is a struggle. And the boys are getting sick of having to be enthusiastic about her pooping on the potty. It used to be "YEAH VIOLET GIRL! WE ARE SOOOOO PROUD OF YOU!!!!" Now, it's like, "Wow Vi. Good job." and they don't even look away from their movie. I know in their heads, they are thinking, "For the love of everything righteous and holy, please oh please do your biz in the potty. You disgust us."

Dear Dollar Store, I scored BIG for Easter. Turns out that if you go a few weeks ahead, there is still plenty of good stuff. This year, my mom isn't going to be here for her annual Easter egg hunt. So we will have to do one at home. Lame. But I am excited about hiding the money egg.

Dear Sister in-law Jenn, you are a bad ass. You get induced 4 weeks early because of bad preeclampsia and you proceed to get even sicker while in the hospital and pass out and crap like that. You then get Pitocin after waiting for your cervix to wake up after 30+ hours and then while on Pitocin, you delivery a healthy 5 pound baby girl, ALL NATURAL, because that was your plan all along. BAD ASS. I love you. And your baby.

Dear Honey Nut Chex, I just ate 3 bowls of you. So there's that.

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