DD, DS, Dear universe

Dear Daughter,

If you remove the piece of silicone from your mouth, it will aid you in talking and speech and all that guff, which will enable effective communication between us. If we can communicate, then you will not need to lie on the kitchen floor for half an hour screaming and sobbing in a heartbroken fashion because you want to eat a whole toffee cake and don't want to share and I want to take your brothers to school. We can find a win-win situation. It's OK, we can try this.

Oh, and please put the poo in the potty. I KNOW you can do this, so please try it. The house is full of toys and sweeties and stickers as bribes and rewards, so no more dirty knickers, huh?

Dear son the first,

I realise it looks untidy having the tail of the letter g hanging below the line, but that's just the way it is. If you write your letter g hanging in mid-air, unrelated to anything then your teacher is going to ask you to change it and so am I. Similarly, I know that the letter b looks a bit odd sometimes, but you can't just turn it round the other way and substitute d for it. That gets really confusing for people who want to read your handwriting , like me. I appreciate that you could just use D all the time for d, but that also gets confusing and Disorientating. Please Desist.

Oh, and please also refrain from storming up the stairs with much slamming of doors when we suggest making changes of this nature. I'm quite happy for you to just shout no at me. Kevin the teenager is not a Desirable role model, though Kathy Burke (aka Perry) is a genius.

Dear son the second,

Please wear your own school trousers, and not your brothers, even if you don't actually remember where you left yours. Please do not lose your socks, or your underpants. Sleeping in socks and underpants so you don't lose them is not a strategy for success in the long run, but if you will do this, then why do you insist on taking your jumper and coat off at school and forgetting where you put them????

I love your new glasses, by the way, and I think they're going to look great on you. It just really bugs me that I got the phone call telling me that you'd broken another pair, please come and get you from school just after I'd spent an hour on the bus taking Skye to see her friends and I hadn't even had time to have a cup of tea yet.

Dear son the third,

Eight months old is far too young to play on the wii. Thirty-one is far too old to be up all night whilst you party on down. Calpol is a pain killer, and it was meant to aid your sleep. Please let me nap, and not during the school run.

Dear universe,

Please get the psychobitch who is having a go at my husband to back off, the dotty old neighbour to stop writing us horrible letters and sticking things in our car tyres, and please help me find my missing digital camera. I realise that having poured water over it, I don't really deserve it back but right now, I'd value being given a break. 

Oh shit. Was so busy moaning on blogger that I've just boiled a hole in my mooncup, and I'm extremely premenstrual right now. Frankly, I think I made the wrong decision with the emergency coil last month. Pregnancy is far easier.