A Birthday Note To My Daughter

Dear Avery (*) -

If you are reading this it means two things: 1. Your snooping has finally produced something useful to explain the nagging neglect you always felt in your heart.  Or  2. I have passed away in shame, and due to the requests in my will, you are now finally allowed to know the truth.

Here it is kid, in a week you are going to turn 1 years old, and everyone, from random strangers at the store to close family members, have been badgering me to answer one forsaken question:  What am I going to do to celebrate your first birthday?  Ideas like princess themed parties, bouncing houses, clowns and big spreads of food have been thrown around, but here's the truth you - you are almost 1 and your brain capacity is not that big. In fact today, you tried to eat a computer cord.  A computer cord!  And as I tried to stop you I realized you were chowing down on a cheerio you had found somewhere near the couch.  Listen, bottom line is you actually have no idea your birthday is in a week, and therefore I'm not really going crazy in the whole "celebrating" category.  Yep, you read that right, I'm consciously deciding NOT to really celebrate your birthday.  Sure, I'll wake you up in the morning and say, "Happy Birthday," change your diaper, offer you some special momma brew (from under my shirt), let you play, give you a cupcake and then take a picture.  Will you get some gifts?  Sure...oh wait, I've already given them to you.  Remember?  Yeah, I didn't think so.

So, listen take this letter to your therapist, put it on your refrigerator so your husband will understand why you are so needy, but please know, I don't regret this decision.  Don't get me wrong, I do love you, I'm just not in love with all the crazy moms, who feel the need to throw extravagant parties for a child, who doesn't even really know if their parents are the ones smiling at them or the ones on the couch.

Love Mom.

* Or addressed to all the crazy moms I've encountered.