Monday, February 28, 2011

Letter to Myself

If I could see the future, I would have written this letter to myself before last week:

Dear Megan,

Take a deep breath. Here's what's about to go down. You're going to have a lot of conference calls scheduled and some major writing deadlines, but those aren't really going to matter, because your two year old is going to have a major allergic reaction to her second antibiotic and break out in hives and a general case of toddler meanness. You will feel sorry for her, even when she smashes her juice bottle into your face for kicks and pulls the cat's tail and - well - you'll see.

Oh yeah. And it's going to last all week, and she's going to have a cold on top of it.

And then - when things are going really well - it's going to snow again. A lot. And THEN - get this - the old copper pipes in your farmhouse are going to give up on life and drench your living room ceiling in beautiful brown spots.

And the ceiling will need to come down.

But that's cool, because you've already made a mess of the dining room, which you and the Dogtor are attempting to paint yourselves after stripping the wallpaper.

Did I mention how much the toddler is not going to support your efforts? Try and maximize painting during nap time. Except I should probably tell you that she's not going to nap on Sunday.

Keep the cats out of the paint and remember to bend over and wipe 16 snowy paws when the dogs come in - oh that's right. Bending over kind of sucks for you right now, huh?

But look - everything's fine. You're just 27 weeks pregnant. Let the sound of ceiling demolition soothe your nerves and fill you with delight. Let the iced over driveway bring you peace. Let the toddler rage in all her glory. (and God bless the heroic Dogtor.)

Hug, kiss!


  1. Yoga is portable. Hang in there. Auntie Em cannot wait to zoom (uhn uhn) up to VT to whisk Fray away for some major play time. She has no idea what is in store for her! I am sending you some frizzy hair humid air from the south. xoxo

  2. I can distinctly remember myself telling myself, "Oh, Kristi, if you would have known last week what the following 'x' days would entail, you would run out of the front door in your underwear 100mph holding your head, screaming, 'I'M NEVER COMING BACK!!!'..." And then usually I imagine myself doing that, tank top and striped boxers, and I start laughing so hard. :)

    It's the "when it rains, it pours" weeks that help us appreciate the "normal, everyday" weeks, I guess!

    Everything takes 45x longer with a toddler...there was a very funny and popular Dear Abby post in the last few years about this, but I can't find it online. Anyway, hang in there, and happy painting, writing, medicating, surviving! :)

  3. Oh man. My heart goes out to you, Megan. xoxox

  4. Thanks for the support guys! This life just gets funnier by the day. We're like a really bad sit com, but the Dogtor isn't fat and I don't have a New Jersey accent and acrylic nails. But things could change - you never know. :) Much love!

  5. I found the article - finally! :)

    Ref. here and elsewhere:

  6. Oh, I love this! After the rough days, I often say to my husband "Bet ya never thought you'd be doing THIS 20 years ago." And then we can laugh about it.