letter to my family.

Dear my fully grown husband, 9 (going on 29) year-old daughter, and 4 year-old-wild-child daughter,

Enough is enough. I have a full-time job. I have a long commute. The last thing I want to do is come home and start a second job as a housekeeper. How is it that I leave the house in the morning, which is semi-clean, and return at night to a home that appears a bomb went off? Please take time out of your very busy schedule of watching Shake It Up! or Hannah Montana and start picking up 30 minutes before I am due to be home. Pick up your dirt socks, shoes, coat and backpacks. All of which were dropped on the floor where you took them off. There is a place for everything so put it in its place.

I work for a printing company, not the electric company. Therefore, turn off the lights and TV if you are not in the room. An airplane could land in our cal-de-sac with the amount of light coming from our house. Two words: Energy conservation. Please.

To my hubby: I know you are trying to work at home this winter but is it too much to ask that you start the full dishwasher? Do you even know where we keep the broom? I love when you start dinner, especially since I have to make sure all ingredients on our weekly menu is defrosted and ready to cook for the evening. I have done 50% of the work for you. I take much time out of my weekend to come up with the weekly menu, please check it before calling me in rush-hour traffic to ask “what to cook for dinner”.

A word about our growing daughter. Please check Alex’s homework. Do not under any circumstances take her word for it when she says, “I did it.” I know better. You know better. There is nothing worse than finding out at 8:30 that homework is, in fact, not done. One more thing. If you snuggle with one of our daughters during bedtime, would you please not fall asleep in their bed. Remember that your wife needs snuggles and love too. And no snuggling/loving equals no knookie for you. Thank you.

To my oldest daughter: I know you are getting older and you think that in the 9 short years you’ve been alive you know it all. Trust me. You don’t. Please save the drama for someone else. You have plenty of years ahead of you to give me your attitude. There is no need to give it all to me right now.

When you come home from school, sit down. Relax, then do your homework. It will be easy if you just do it. Also your room is appalling. If you need help organizing your things, please ask for help. If you need shelves to put your stuff, please let me know. I am sure I can accommodate your request. I fully expect to see you on an episode of Hoarders some day. Although, I will fight to my death so that doesn’t happen. That is the sole reason I am always “nagging” you to clean your room. If it is dirty, put it in the dirty clothes hamper. If it is clean, hang it in the closet. If it is trash, put it in the trash can. If it is food, put it in the kitchen. Thank you.

To my youngest wild-child: Your adorable smile will not get you out of the doghouse every time. Put your shoes away. Your coat belongs on the coat rack, not the floor. We do not live in a garbage dump. Please put your candy/snack/food wrappers in the trash. Stop “playing” in the bathroom. It’s just gross. You may only be 4 but if you are old enough to make the mess, you are old enough to clean it up, or at least attempt to clean it up. Thank you.

To my old Beagle: Yes, you are also on my last nerve. Please stop barking during dinner time. Some how, unknown to me, I have trained you to go out the dog door when I yell, “Out!” when all I want is for you to stop barking! I have tried saying “Stop!”, “No!”, “Enough!”. Nothing works except “Out!”. But when you are outside you still bark. Please, I need an aspirin. Or two. Thank you.

Although I love you all very much, I feel this house, not to mention my sanity, would run more smoothly if you would just comply to my demands. I don’t think I am asking for the moon. I am just asking for everyone to take responsibly for themselves and their stuff. I am just asking for us to work as a team. I would hate to go on strike. Mostly because I couldn’t stand to live in the mess that would certainly follow.

With sincerest regards,

Your sanity-seeking mother/wife

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Categories: Life | Tags: , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

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7 thoughts on “letter to my family.

  1. I totally feel for you. In fact, I think my husband could have written this…to me. He is much more on the “organized” side than I am.

    Our house is clean, but lived in…messy, but happy…and cluttered, but well used:)

  2. It’s good to have a rant about these things! I can stand mess for so long then I explode. I took the fuse out of the tumble drier plug once because our sons would insisted on putting the tumble drier on for 60mins to heat the creases out of their shirts rather than put the iron on!
    PiP 8)

    • got2havefaith

      That is so funny. We could be sisters. I would totally do something like that. I sometimes take the dirty socks left on the floor and I will put them under hubby’s pillow. Oh, sorry honey, they don’t go there either?

  3. I feel for you. It seems no matter how clean one makes the house, it always seems to be completely undone by the time the day ends. It’s unbelievable how quickly the tornadoes (significant other, child, pet) can destroy everything that you’ve put your hard work into without concern for how well organized and clean it was only moments prior.

    Bless you. Find solace in the fact that one day your daughters will have the joy of weathering a similar storm, and you can stand back and giggle. šŸ˜‰

    • got2havefaith

      Thanks. The thought of Alex having to pick up after her messy daughter is already making me feel better.

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