Letters

Dear Valentine's Day,

You are a lovely holiday. Really. I'm only anxious for you to be over because I can smell the Cadbury Mini-Eggs already.

Mandy

Dear Ghetto Neighbor,

You have been having a yard sale for six months now. How can you possibly have that much junk still left in your house? Also, I was not a fan of the 48 inch TV that sat in the rain on the sidewalk in front of your house all last week. I'll probably not miss you a lot when we move. I'm sure you'll be sad not to hear my loud kids anymore. Toodles!

Mandy

Dear Neighborhood, Parents at the Elementary School, Michael's Work Colleagues and my Hairstylist,

I realize you probably think we are Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar over here, now that it is totally obvious that I'm pregnant. Thanks for keeping your opinions on global over-population and carbon footprints to yourselves. Your shocked and incredulous expressions when you hear me say "twins" make me wish I could pull out a camera to capture the exact moment I tell you. I suppose that wouldn't be very polite.

Mandy

Dear Twins,

Seven more weeks. Not that I'm counting.

Love, Mom

Dear Seth,

Dirty laundry goes in the basket. Consider it good practice for basketball.

Love, Mom

Dear Alice,

Eat your vegetables. All good little gymnasts do.

Love, Mom

Dear Thomas,

I can't play trains with you anymore. The problem is that once I sit on the floor it is too much work to get back up. Sorry. You are welcome to sit next to me on the couch (the lap isn't much of an option anymore) and we'll read a book.

Love, Mom