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Welcome to my blog. One Busy Momma is my space to rant about my life and the things that happen in it. I have a crazy life - and instead of focusing on the crazy - I like to focus on the funny. Because if I focused on the craziness - well, I'd have been shipped off to an institution long, long ago. And while, I'll admit, there are some days when being institutionalized sounds PRETTY GOOD compared to making ANOTHER diorama at 1am - I'd rather be right where I am - in my messy house with my not so perfect kids making crooked dioramas in the middle of the night.

Monday, August 27, 2012

An Open Letter to God

                                                                                                                                  August 27, 2012

To: The Lord God aka: The Big Ka-Huna

From: One Busy Momma

Re: School Year 2012-2013

Dear Sir or Madame:

     As you well know, today was the first day of school for Busy Momma's crew. It all went very smoothly - I'd like to thank you for that. As much as I'd like to think that my obsessive compulsive stockpiling and organizing of school supplies, non-stop labeling, laundering and RE LAUNDERING my boy's polo shirts to "get them a bit whiter" was a large factor in the day's overall "smooth sailing-ness", I know that you had something to do with it as well. So kudos to you.

    However - today was the very first day of a very long school year. By my count, we have about 189 days left...unless you'd like to send another lovely blizzard our way in January. (It would be a really nice 40th birthday gift. Just a thought...) And as much as I'd like to think that we will have 189 wonderful, smooth days like today...well, let's just say that I didn't fall off of the turnip truck yesterday. Our girl just entered Middle School...or as I remember it...the gates of hell. Although I do understand that you created all people in your image and likeness - I find it hard to picture you as a middle school-aged ,pre-teen girl. No loving God would appear in that form. Not that there is anything wrong per-say with these lovely, young, pre-women. However, I like to think of my God as a level-headed, wise, old grey headed man or woman...somewhat like a very shiny and glowing Dumbledore or Professor McGonnegal. NOT as a young girl/woman who is hysterically laughing at a joke only she is in on one minute and hysterically crying at nothing at all the next. Enough said.

The  there is the matter of Jack. As you know, boy-o entered the third grade and has, quite possibly, the nicest and kindest teacher ever born. And while this is a great thing...it is also somewhat frightening to me. You see - she is kind and gentle and is used to Bella. Not Jack. Bella is kind and gentle as well...and Jack is....well...Jack. He says it like it is. I am hoping and praying that she didn't hear him yell to me: "Hey Mom - look - so and so (names are being withheld to protect the innocent) sits WAAAY up here. Far away from me - which is great 'cause I hate her!" at meet the teacher day. Does she know about his first day in Pre 4 when he pretended to be a dog on the carpet and lifted his leg and FARTED in another kid's face? I hope not. As far as she knows, from dealing with Bella - we are a kind and gentle people. We have nice, quiet children who tell you how pretty you are every day. Not children who pass gas on command and "hate bossy-boss girls so much that I could just sock 'em!" Oh yes - he goes there.

So Lord, I know that I ask a lot of you. However - you ask A LOT of me as well. You have given me several insurmountable obstacles in my life: You cursed me with the O'Neil legs. They will always be fat - always. No matter what I do. My thighs will always touch. That sucks. You made me fall deeply, deeply in love with a wonderful man...who snores. Loudly. And I love him - but the snoring is so obnoxious. And let's not even MENTION the whole early peri-menopause thing that now includes HOT FLASHES during the DAY as well as night sweats.

And there is also the matter of my teeny, tiny bladder...I mean the list goes on and on and on...So as I see it - you owe me one or two favors. And I am going to cash them in this year. So here goes - my solem prayer to you as we begin this new school year:

Dear Lord...Lord of all that is good and holy...Lord who curses lovely young ladies with fat thighs and early hot flashes....please watch over my babies as they embark on this journey of a new school year. Watch over Bella as she begins her Middle School career. May she be happy. May no nasty bitches single her out and pick on her. Because I will hunt them down and cut them. Oh yes - you know that I will. (Not really - but I WILL shoot them withering glances AND give them the STINK EYE)  May she rise above the fray and understand that she is unique.  With that sentiment in mind...Please let her understand that the crap they sell at Hollister is WAAAY too expensive and that she really doesn't want to look JUST LIKE everyone else who shops at Hollister. Please save me from having to go into Hollister and feel like a 40-year old senior citizen because I can't see the price tags and I am lacking oxygen to my brain from the cloying, obnoxious fragrance that is piped through the ducts there. And while we're talking about Bella - please blind all of those 13-year old boys who stare at her at the pool. OK - blinding may be a bit harsh. But make them stop looking at her like she is a delicious cupcake. She is eleven years old for Christ's sake. (Whoops - sorry) (Oh, and please render PC mute when at the Arena Club pool. When he refers to these young gentlemen as"pimple-faced douche-bags" out loud it is very embarrasing. And I already have those afore-mentioned thighs to contend with at the pool.)

Dear Lord, father or mother of us all, please put some sense into Jack's head. Please grant him the patience that he needs to deal with all of the bossy young ladies in his class. Please grant him patience and a filter - DEAR GOD - put a FILTER over that kid's mouth. Don't let him tell any MORE little girls that NO ONE WILL EVER MARRY THEM because they are so bossy. Don't allow him to fart on anyone on purpose this year. Please grant him the wisdom to understand that I know that he is not "allergic" to going to mass and that going to mass every Wednesday can, in no way, make him so sick that he "just might die right there in the church." Please make him just a bit afraid of me. Just a bit. Just enough fear to make him think twice before he sends that spy car into his sister's room while she and her friends are in there talking about boys. Please convince him that he does, in fact, need to work on his penmanship because contrary to what he believes, police officers DO have to write with pens. Oh - and please make him stop wanting to be a police officer. Because I cannot take that kind of stress in my old age. So please have the network cancel the show "Rookies'" and "Cops" that he loves to watch. Seriously.

And while we are talking about TV shows - can you please send discouraging thoughts to my kids about trying out for America's Got Talent. Because they are all over that like white-on-rice - and while I think their rendition of "Call Me Maybe" done with hand motions and banana phones is just adorable...it's really not. Howard would eat them alive.

Oh - and PLEASE let someone sail through 6th grade math with all Bs AND stop asking for a phone. Seriously - she's wearing me down. Perhaps you could appear again in a burning bush...or someone's IPhone and make an 11th and 12th Commandment:

Thou Shalt Not Get a Phone before High School.

Thou Shalt Not Allow Middle School Students to Communicate via Text.

Seriously - you'd get VERY good press for that. Not that you need it...but good press never hurt anyone.

OK - that's all for now. Lots of Luv...XOXOXOXOX

Busy Momma

2 comments:

  1. Good luck with the mean girls in middle school. Hopefully she will think they are just stupid and stay away from them! Lol about Hollister! Though you forgot to mention the EXTREMELY loud music. I have a hard time just walking past. Good luck this year with school. They will do great and always remember, FARTS ARE FUNNY. Always.

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  2. I DID forget the music! I think the overall snarky attitude of the sales clerks there combined with the smell and darkness makes me not notice the music pounding out of the carefully hidden speakers...
    thanks for reading!

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