To Whom It May Concern: You know who you are

Dear Sir and Sir:

It is with a heavy heart and much regret that I feel the need to inform you of my decision to tender my resignation as Greatest Mother In The World. We all know that lately I’ve simply become unable to keep up with the demands of the position, and I wish to fall back at this time to something more befitting my capabilities.

This morning I feel that perhaps Mom Who Does Just Enough might be a more suitable choice. Or—should you feel it a better selection—Serviceable Mom. I shall leave it to your discretion as to which title would be most useful to the organization as a whole.

I do thank you for the chance to be something more, but now that I’ve realized exactly how thankless this position really is, I’m afraid I am simply going to have to suggest that you get your own darn breakfast in the future.

So, effective immediately, here are the changes I propose:

1) If I spend my entire Sunday evening (the last night of my vacation) helping to bail your butt out of the proverbial academic fire, I shall not be expected to either be kind or care about whatever your major malfunction is during that time period. If, in addition, you choose that time to have a knock down drag out fight with your brother and you wing a rubber ball passed my head into the wall of my new house, you can expect to not be having any kind of social life or tv watching time for at least a week. I could’ve been reading a book, watching TV, doing anything else but I chose to help you not FAIL—I shall be entitled to suggest that you please take your fit and hurt feelings to your room where I do not need to look at your ungrateful little pouty face.

2) If you’ve wrung me dry during the previous week, should you elect to sob over the lack of “GOOD” snacks in the pantry, I will be allowed to open up the refrigerator, take out an apple or an orange, shove it down your throat and ask you when you turned from a 16-year-old boy into a 2-year-old girl. Last I knew, Sydney and Ireland were in UTAH!

3) I will no longer make wake-up rounds in the morning, gently coaxing and cajoling the two of you awake and out of bed, rechecking to make sure you’re up, and yelling the current time down the hallway while morning preparations are made. Your alarms will be set and you can rise or not as you see fit. As you will be fixing your own morning meal (to save me the grief over placing inferior sustenance before you), you’ll have plenty of time to determine what would be the best breakfast choice for your WALK or Short Yellow School Bus ride to school, as your failure to be ready on time will result in forfeiture of your ride. Please keep in mind that the school only allows 3 unexcused absences before you are given in-school suspension. In-School suspension will affect your eligibility to graduate or be on the soccer team next year.

4) I will only launder the clothes I find inside of your clothes basket, Clothes near the basket or squirreled away elsewhere in the house shall remain unwashed. Complaints about favored items being unavailable shall be met with a sad song played on my tiny violin and an hour-long lecture of how you are capable of doing your own laundry.

5) Items left on my desk become my property to keep or dispose of as I see fit. Period. I am pretty sure I didn’t leave a marching band T-shirt (as I don’t have a marching band T-shirt) and if you couldn’t be bothered to put it away, I can’t be bothered to ask you fifteen times to take your stuff. Sorry. That is also the case for anything left on the living room tables, or any kitchen surface. I just want you to know that I recently made a donation to our Christmas Jar in the amount of $2.85 found around the couch in the game room.

6) Dishes left on the table at the end of a meal shall be used in their unwashed state to serve the next meal on. Mmmm mmmm good.

7) Crumbs, banana peels, and cereal bar wrappers which are not disposed of properly shall be transferred to your beds for safekeeping.

8) Any request to “help” with homework which you are perfectly capable of completing on your own shall result in my leaving the house for a scenic walk. On the down side, you’re going to be spending a lot of time alone, I think. But on the bright side, I should be 10 pounds lighter in no time!

9) Rather than attending every activity, as I’ve been doing, I’ll try to get to a few if I can fit it into my schedule. You won’t mind; after all, the criticism I’ve drawn while showing up for absolutely everything has indicated that my presence has gone completely unnoticed, anyway. Let me know when something big is happening and I’ll see if I have an opening.

10) I will no longer be participating in arguments about the weather. If you’re convinced you won’t be too hot/too cold in that outfit, and/or that you don’t need a jacket, fine. You’re right; you DO know better than me. Enjoy your day wearing whatever you’ve deemed appropriate. I’ll no longer be paying attention to any subsequent whining, so have at it! Also please be warned that any trips to the doctors office due to your inability to plan your wardrobe appropriately will result in you paying the $15 co-pay and prescription fees.

Again, I’m sorry that it’s come to this, but I think the resignation of my post and subsequent reorganization will be for the best, all around. I do appreciate the opportunity and wish you all the best in your future endeavors.

Regards,
Mom