Please Remove Your Head From Your Nether Regions

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There are times when I am sometimes truly amazed by how inwardly focused are sometimes. That's not to say that there aren't days when I am selfish and unaware of things that are going on around me, but I sure hope that I don't fall into these categories.

Dear Mom At Gymnastics,

I know there aren't great places to view what's going on inside the gym, especially for small children. The row of small windows they provide isn't the easiest to see.

But having your child sit or stand on the very narrow ledge that they built to cover the coat hooks so that no one injures themselves accidentally bumping into them - well, really is that the smartest thing to do?

We won't get into the fact that your child standing there then blocks the view for everyone else in the area.

Or the fact that the gym has requested multiple times that you not place your children on the ledge for safety reasons. Or the fact that the gym now has a notes pasted every (literally) two feet on the windows asking you to keep your children off the ledge.

Please, make sure that your child - who was previously racing up and down the hallway with a lollipop in his mouth - can see his sister on the balance beam while no one else can see. At least you have the justification of not being able to read the sign requesting that your child stay off the ledge because he's blocking it while sitting on the ledge. Oh, wait. There's another one by your left elbow.

sigh

kthnxbai,




Dear Dad In the Carpool Line,

Generally, I feel badly when I'm dropping off the carpool. After all, there is only a ten minute window of six cars at a time dropping off children, and I have four children who have to pile out of my car. They don't always do it as quickly as I'd like, and I feel badly that we're holding up the line.

I don't feel so badly anymore.

Yesterday, I was dropping off the carpool, and after everyone piled out of the car, I noticed that your passenger door was still open. I felt for you - I always worry that the carpool kids will get out of the car and leave me with my door hanging open. It isn't easy to fix. I waited for your to reach over to close it.

And I waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, I saw movement. It was a girl climbing out of the car to go to school. Uhhhh, you held up the line for four minutes waiting for her to get out of the car? You do realize that with the narrow dropoff lane, no one can get past you until you leave, right?

At least she finally got out of the car - and closed the door behind her!

Or so I thought until I saw you waving at her, while remaining in park. She slowly walked toward the school, and you continued waving. I apologize for the lights flashing at you, but c'mon!

I'm grateful that you started moving forward at least. For the first three feet before you stopped to continue watching her progress toward the school. Again, my apologies for the slight horn honk. Really. But move already! Anyone who wasn't in our group of six now has kids who are late for school because of you.

By the time you left the line and allowed the rest of us to get along with our day, it was six minutes after the start of school. If your daughter needs that much assistance getting into school, might I suggest that you park and walk her in next time?

kthxbai,

This Is What Happens When I'm Crabby

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Hmmm, or maybe it's what happens when I don't get enough sleep and then try to shop - at Costco no less - on the day before a major holiday.

Dear People-Stalking-The-Samples,
I'm here to shop. And I'd like to get home to finish making up a few items for parties this weekend before the store closes. While it's nice that Costco provides samples, they aren't meant to be your lunch. If the samples aren't ready - especially if it's something that is baking - please don't block the entire walkway so that no one can get by. And if someone asks you politely to move, do so.

kthxbai,


Dear Lady-Behind-Me-Exiting-Costco,
I teach my wee ones certain rules when we're shopping. Among them, make sure you leave sufficient space between you and the person ahead of you. Needless to say, my bleeding stump of a foot and I were somewhat shocked to find that the person who rammed me with a cart while I was waiting for my receipt to be highlighted was a woman older than I was. Now, had I stopped suddenly or in the middle of an aisle, I might understand this, but... really? Please make sure you're watching where you're going when pushing a heavy cart like this.

kthxbai,


Dear Car-Behind-Me-While-I'm-Waiting-To-Turn-Left,
I lived in Chicago for long enough. A small tap of the horn really isn't going to do anything. A longer beep, and you're just going to annoy me - provided that I'm not in the wrong. And when trying to turn left against a heavily trafficked 50 mile per hour four lane highway when I have a stop sign and the other traffic has nothing, I'm not going to just go when I have a tiny whole and hope for the best. Yes, I know it isn't a fast turn left, but such is as it is. I have no interest in risking my neck, so you can beep all you want, but it won't sway my opinion.

kthxbai,


Dear People-Driving-On-My-Two-Lane-No-Passing-Zone-Road,
Yes, I know it's a two lane road. And yes, I realize that it has some hills. Did you notice that sign you've passed four times now? It's the white one with the black writing that read "SPEED LIMIT 50" - in pretty big letters, mind you. That "5" and "0" on the sign tells you how fast you can go on this bright sunny day. It doesn't mean that you stop when your spedometer needle is halfway between the 30 and 40. It doesn't mean you stop when it's at the 40. Driving 15 miles under the speed limit mile after mile with cars tailgating me because of the speed you're forcing us to go is really not very safe, never mind inconsiderate.

kthxbai,


Dear Hosts-And-Hostesses,
When your guests arrive, offer them a beverage. It helps if you have more than one choice for guests who may not wish to drink a particular kind, but at least offer something. Food is also nice. When you invite people to your house, it's generally expected that you're going to provide something for them, and frequently they're thirsty when they arrive. No one likes to beg for something, and I for one always feel a little weird when I have to go digging for something to drink. Just be nice and offer us something upfront, and we'll all be in a better mood. Or so I hope.

kthxbai,


Dear Little Miss,
When someone goes through the effort of making you something and gives it to you, learn to be gracious. I don't care if you don't like it or don't know what it is. You've been raised to appreciate what you're given, and it's really sad when you hurt someone's feelings because you aren't nice to them when they offer you something. I'm very disappointed that this lesson hasn't sunk in.

Shape up,
(Mommy)

An Open Letter To The World

Dear World,

Can you please slow DOWN?

Please?  Pretty please?

I discussed yesterday my issue with missing out on December.  I admit that this was entirely my fault.  In fact, I did an admirable job catching up in the past twenty-four hours (all cards are written and mailed, presents are sorted and wrapped, shopping is complete, and prep for food is done).  I'm giving you some of the blame, too, though.  Since you've been pushing Christmas for so long, I no longer have the jolt that I need to start preparing for Christmas.  You've lulled me into a false sense of security that Christmas is still far away... and it's not.

But still.

It's not even Christmas yet.  I still have two full days to enjoy preparing for Christmas and the joy on my family's faces for the season.  Quit rushing me.  I want to celebrate the season, and you're making it awfully difficult.

Case in point.  A week and a half ago -- on December 11 to be exact, I received an email from our local baseball and softball organization letting me know that summer registration was now open.  Are you kidding me?  Two weeks before Christmas, and you want me to start thinking about a sport my children won't be playing for another four plus months?  Last year, I missed registration and signed up after teams had been formed, and now I know why.

Retail stores, you are not exempt.  When doing a little shopping last weekend -- a full week before Christmas, mind you, I noticed that the Christmas items were already being moved to the back and Valentine's items are being displayed.  Trust me, there's no way I'm buying any Valentine's when I don't have any Christmas cards out.

I'm slowly figuring out why I'm constantly exhausted and feeling behind.  There's no time to enjoy the moment we're in.  And I refuse to go along with the constant rushing ahead into the next "thing."  Watch out, World.  I am busy living in December.  And enjoying it.  Give me my Christmas.  I'll get back to you in February about Valentine's Day.  And in March or April about t-ball.

Love,



PS Only two days left my LOFT $200 gift card giveaway is ending on 12/25. One more week for my $200 VISA gift card giveaway.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I've been a very good little girl this year. Or at least, I think I have. I've tried really hard to be a good mommy and make sure I stayed on the "good" list.

I haven't quite figured out what I want for Christmas this year, but I'm working on it, I promise. Last year, you were so nice to me, and I got everything I asked for -- even some things I didn't.

After I finished opening all my presents though, I realized that I didn't feel that I didn't have that happy bubble in my heart that I did when I was younger and got the gifts I coveted. I looked around at my family, and I realized that they and their happiness are what makes me happy. I don't need anything else, and I'm happy with what I have.

It was really kind of a revelation. I want nothing.

So why am I writing to you? I'm not asking for anything. In fact, I'm writing a letter that I'm sure you don't get nearly often enough.

Thank you.

Thank you, Santa for all the you do for all our children. Thank you for the joy and excitement that you bring them every Christmas morning. Thank you for the patience you teach them as they wait for you to come. Thank you for the lesson you teach them in how to deal with disappointment when you don't bring them everything they have.

And thank you for being constant. Thank you for not becoming new and cool and hip like so many treasured friends from Tinker Bell to Mickey Mouse. Thank you for staying child-friendly and for helping to maintain my wee ones' innocence for just a little longer.

This year, I'll leave you a couple extra cookies by the fireplace, and maybe a few more carrots for your reindeer.

Love,



PS If you want to leave a little high quality chocolate under the tree, I wouldn't object. Or some new kitchen gadgets.

An Open Letter To Icky Ladies

Dear Icky Lady At The Wedding Last Night Who I'll Assume Had Too Much To Drink,

Hi there, I'm the one who was in the bathroom stall next to yours at the end of the wedding reception last night. I didn't get a chance to talk to you, but I'm still stuck with the vision of you in my mind, so I have to share. I'm assuming you just weren't thinking, so I'm hoping this helps you in the future.

When I first walked into the bathroom, I noticed that there was a roll of toilet paper on the ground between two stalls. Realizing that it was likely that at least one stall was out of toilet paper, I resigned myself the to thought of using that toilet paper. Let me clarify: to using that toilet paper roll after I'd peeled off an inch or so of the paper that had been touching the dirty bathroom floor.

Fortunately, my stall had toilet paper, so it wasn't an issue. Even taking off the paper that I know was close to the ground wasn't quite enough to really make me all that comfortable with the idea of using it.

Anyway, I noticed when you entered the stall that you had great red polish on your toes. Normally, this wouldn't be that unusual, as so many women (including me) wear open-toed shoes. However, you weren't wearing shoes.

Ewwww.

You weren't wearing shoes walking around outside on the patio where cigarette butts at the very least and broken glass most likely were there just waiting for you to step on them. And you weren't wearing shoes in the skanky end of the night bathroom. Ewww. That really grossed me out. REALLY grossed me out.

But then, then, you picked up the toilet paper roll off the floor -- it must have been your stall that was out of paper -- and just ripped of a bit and then used it. Granted, at this point, I was staring at the divider between our stalls in horror. I know you didn't take off the outside paper that was on the wet dirty nasty floor, not even the first layer. Your feet weren't quite so bad then, or maybe your feet were more explainable after that.

But then you put it back on the floor again for the poor next woman! I had thought about this when I walked into the bathroom (because I have these weird hypothetical situation conversations with myself on a regular basis) and already decided that if I had to use the icky toilet paper off the floor once I removed the ickiest parts, I would at least have the decency to put it on top of the dispenser after using it rather that simply returning it to the floor to get even grosser. Next time, do you think you could do that?

And maybe wear some shoes when you go into the bathroom?

Thanks so much!



PS I did love your gold heels. I saw them sitting on the counter when I went to wash my hands, so yay -- you did at least have some shoes somewhere. I also noticed your gorgeous iPhone sitting next to your shoes. In the empty bathroom. Next time, you might want to find a safer place to leave it. I didn't steal it (obviously!), but it would be so easy for someone to do so. And wouldn't that just be the cherry on the cake?

An Open Letter To Spring

Dear Spring,

I'm writing you in the hopes that you can rectify an error. It snowed here last yesterday and this morning. And I don't mean just cute little snow, I mean heart attack causing, massive, heavy snow that had trees bowed over and touching the roads kind of snow.

I know we have a little time warp around my house, but I think this is a little excessive in your lateness. While I will admit to having been late once or twice in my lifetime, I've never been this late. Ok, don't count the time I was three weeks late for my own birth. I didn't know any better then.

It's March 29, and it is cold and wet and icky. People are getting sick because you've missed the boat, and I'm hoping that it was just a slight oversight on your part. Did you know that Spring Break is over? That it's been spring for nine days so far?

In fact, my husband is supposed to play baseball outside next Sunday, but I don't see that happening at this rate. We won't talk about the t-ball practice that Mister Man is supposed to have because I forgot he had a broken arm and signed him up for t-ball anyway.

I'd really appreciate it if you could find a way to make it here. I thought you were coming, and so did my crocuses. In fact, I almost tilled my garden last week until it rained too much and made it too muddy. Maybe it would help if I provided some photographic evidence of how very wrong this most recent snowfall was?









As you can see, this wasn't just a "sprinkle" of snow. This is a good December of January snow. Trees were on the ground here. And branches are down everywhere -- especially where the incredibly dumb people drove through the trees that were bowed over and knocked off all their branches.

Do it for the trees then? Neither of us wants to see any more trees harmed. Regardless of your motivation, if you could work on making it here, my sanity thank you.

Sincerely,



PS Last year, I tried going to a higher power in May. I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to go over your head this year. I don't want to get you in trouble again.

You Give Your Profession A Bad Name

Dear Doctor D,

I wanted to let you know that I will not be returning to your practice in the future, and I felt it was only fair to tell you why. I'm letting you know via letter, as I am afraid of what would happen were I to call.

First, I do want to tell you that I really appreciate the speed with which you first got me into your practice. When I cut my thumb open and needed a doctor for the wound care, the fact that you got me in to see a nurse the same day I called was really appreciated, especially since I was a new patient at the time.

From there, it kind of went downhill though. Since Google and the phone book still list your old address, I might suggest alerting new patients to your current location so that they don't try to enter an abandoned medical building and have to call to get directions.

And when I arrived at the medical office and saw no one in the waiting room, I was pretty stoked to be able to get in and out pretty quickly. Granted, I was somewhat behind on my Sports Illustrated reading, but I had other things to do than reading. Oddly, no one came in or out of the reception area while I waited the half hour to be called back, but I'm beginning to think you have a transporter in there. That must be why I waited so long for the nurse to look at my finger for seven minutes before sending me on my merry way.

I did realize that I was probably overdue for a physical, so I made my appointment with you this time, Dr. D, instead of the nurse practitioner. I had a bunch of things that I wanted to discuss and make sure that they weren't concerns, and I'm just biased towards doctors for these things. Again, it was great to be able to get an appointment fairly quickly; friends of mine have horror stories of waiting weeks to get in for a physical.

I had the fun experience of waiting by myself in the waiting room for a good twenty minutes. Funny, I thought 8am was the first appointment, but I guess I was wrong. I did see the sign as I was signing in that any paperwork was $X to fill out, phone calls were $Y, and so forth -- that's why I'm writing you a letter instead of calling. I don't take kindly to being charged for complaining.

In the room, a nurse took my vitals after only a few minutes, then I got to stew -- naked under that paper gown, of course -- for awhile, hoping that you'd show soon. When you arrived, you introduced yourself and did ask if I had any concerns. I told you my concerns, but that was it as far as you were concerned. You decided that I needed a blood test and were ready to walk out and be done. When I asked what the next steps were, you said that we'd figure them out after seeing the results of the bloodwork.

Oh and I almost forgot to thank you for writing down the word Mirena on a prescription pad as information for me to look up, since that was your birth control solution to me, although your office doesn't handle them. No questions about preferences or anything, just asked if I was taking anything now and wrote that down for me. I feel so informed.

When my blood results arrived, a nurse called to let me know that everything was normal. While that was a relief, that did beg the question of next steps because I assure you that my concerns aren't in my head. The nurse was confused for a moment, as she wasn't your nurse calling me back. For whatever reason, my lab results were assigned to a different doctor's nurse. And I had to ask her three times for various labs because originally all she told me was that my iron level was fine. I'm afraid to ask for a copy of the lab results for fear of what you'll charge me, as I think it was near $15 per page.

Regardless, she said she'd pass along my question to your nurse and that someone would call me to talk about what we do next. Three days later, your nurse called me and asked what I wanted from you. I explained, and she said that she'd pass the message along to you.

Two days later you called me. You said that blood work was fine and so I didn't need to come back again for another couple of years for another physical. When I started asking questions, your tone got much more clipped. I reminded you that I'm trying to figure out what's going on with me - for example the fact that I am burning around 2,500 calories a week at the gym and yet somehow gaining a half pound or so a week for the past few months. While I didn't give you my calories burned total in this conversation, I had mentioned it when we first chatted. Your recommendation was to ramp up the exercise and ramp down the calories. My hope pretty much died there, since I can assure you that isn't the issue. I can't get to the gym more than four or five times a week, and I eat quite healthfully and in moderation.

I pretty much wrote you off at that point, and I didn't bother to bring up my heart rate issues again. Or argue with you about my caloric intake or outtake. Or discuss my exhaustion even when getting eight plus hours of sleep. Or mention my recurring issue with low blood levels that weren't for whatever reason evident in the sample I gave. I can assure you that I won't be back to see you again. And I won't be recommending your practice to anyone I know.

Oh, and my work happened to send me an email about testing my resting metabolic rate right after this all transpired. I paid the small fee to have it tested. My RMR is around 1,550. When you couple that with the calories I'm burning on a daily basis, I'm actually not eating enough food. I'm literally unintentionally starving myself -- so thanks for your advice and the deep dive you took to decide what I should be doing.

Lastly, when my PAP results arrived and a different wrong nurse called me to let me know that they're normal -- so my information was passed to yet another unnecessary person in your office -- that really was just the icing on the cake. I don't question my decision whatsoever.

Good luck with your practice,



PS Yes, I'm cranky today, but I am highly disappointed with this doctor and practice. They forgot the patient aspect of care.

An Open Letter To The Ladies Of My Office

Dear Ladies,

I really hope that I can call you ladies. I sometimes wonder, but we'll start optimistically. I have just a couple of really small requests, and I sincerely hope that you'll take them under advisement.

We are, after all, professional women who share an office. We know most of the women on our floor by sight if not by name. I hope that we can treat each other with the respect that we all deserve.

When we use the restroom, please note that we have toilet cover seats that the lovely paper company Weyerhauer has made. Two hundred fifty of them, in fact, according to the language on the box. I've yet to walk into a stall and find the dispenser empty. If you really are freaked out by the germs that you'll pick up while sitting on the toilet seat that is cleaned at least once every two hours and used only by other ladies in the office, please consider using one of these toilet seat covers rather than crouching over the toilet and peeing all over the seat and, I'm sure, yourself.

Personally, I find it disgusting to walk into a stall and find the seat covered in random droplets of someone else's urine. I then have to use toilet paper to clean off the toilet seat before I can use it, as it doesn't matter which stall I choose, they all are urine dropped. If we all sit down, either with or without a toilet seat cover, none of us will have to worry about either urine or yucky germs, right?

And please, when you finish using the toilet, I can see when you flush and then walk straight out the bathroom without washing your hands. EWWW! Seriously, just eww! Can't you at least fake it if you really have that much of an issue with washing? Actually, no, I want you to really wash. You're then touching things that I have to touch, from elevator buttons to desks in conference rooms and everything in between. Tell me we don't have to review why this is important.

Plus, you ladies who fake washing your hands by putting them under water for 0.000005 seconds and then dry them off without using any soap, come on. I appreciate that you're at least starting to make an effort, but can we please use soap? Germs, people! I've already got two wee ones sick since the start of the school year, and I can't afford to get sick myself (FYI, that tickle went away; I give full credit to yoga, as it seems to kick out the germs and keep me healthy every time).

I will admit that I am truly impressed by the women who brush their teeth in the bathroom. I will admit that I am just not that dedicated to my oral hygeine. Putting a toothbrush into a work drawer in my desk just absolutely grosses me out more than slightly funky teeth. However, if you do choose to brush your teeth, at least have the courtesy of rinsing out the sink. Just like I don't like to see toothpaste scum at home, it's disrespectful to leave it behind for the rest of us. Especially the few of you who miss the bowl when spitting and instead leave it all over the sink counter.

Oh, and lady on her cell phone while in a bathroom stall (I assume) using the facilities? If I were on the other end of the conversation and could hear the periodic flushings of the toilet and God knows what else, I'd be grossed out. That's just rude to do to people. Is your conversation really so important that it can't wait until another time or more appropriate place? I really don't want to hear the details about what happened the last time you got a manicure or how you smeared the polish getting into your car. I really don't care, and I don't want to hear about it when I'm using the restroom.

Lastly, ladies at the health club, don't think I'm forgetting about you. Seriously, whoever taught you that it was acceptable to remove a (necessary) tampon and throw it onto the floor of the shower in the locker room, they were wrong. You are horribly mistaken, and this is simply not acceptable. Ditto with placing used gum on the shampoo shelf. I'm assuming that either you're the same lady or that you know each other, as I discovered both in the same stall when I went running last time. Seriously, that's disgusting, and I don't know how you ever thought that this was a good idea. Just don't do it again.

Thank you for your attention.

Sincerely,
Michelle

An Open Letter To My Dental Hygenist

Dear Ma'am,

I am sure you're a lovely person. Really, I am. I can tell this by the picture of you and your happy husband that you have sitting right in my line of sight as I'm leaning back in the chair. Your fun-loving dentist scrubs scream "I want to get to know this person better."

But I'm just here to get my teeth cleaned. I want to get in and out as fast as I can. God knows what the wee ones are doing to the poor neighbor who agreed to watch them for me while I got my teeth cleaned.

If you want to talk to me, that's fine. I am ok hearing about how you went to Vegas when you were in 8th grade with your parents and stayed at Circus Circus. And how you and your friends went to Potawatamie and played bingo and won $1,000 that you split amongst the four of you on the very last game of the night.

But when you're telling the stories, please don't stop cleaning. Don't back up your stool and look at me and expect me to respond when I have a mouth full of dental implements. Every time I try to talk, I drool a little, and drool creeps me out. Yes, even my own drool.

And when I mention that it took me a month and a half to get the "first available" appointment when I called, I appreciate that you sympathized with me. You told me about how busy it is in the summer months. But if that's the case, then why were three of you hanging out talking when I walked in. And why was I the only patient there the entire time?

When you're looking at my previous X-rays, don't make "bad" noises. It sort of freaks me out. I did feel a little better after you actually looked in my mouth and understood how my teeth work (I was born with no wisdom teeth and was missing 1 1/2 adult teeth -- a blessing and a curse, really) and then expressed your relief. My mouth isn't that freaky. Really, you have to see a lot weirder things on an almost daily basis. You work in a dentist's office for goodness sake!

I do have to thank you for the new flossy devices though. They are way cool. I love how they're made of foam at one end that's nice and soft and really traps things. Giving me a whole package was really nice of you. I guess that's what happens when I listen to all your stories.

I really don't want to offend you in any way. Your overtures of friendship were sweet and all. But I've got too many friends as it is. Did I mention the ten birthday parties I have to go to between July 27 and August 24? I'm working on removing some of the fringe friends right now. It's nothing personal, but I just want clean teeth every six months.

Thanks for understanding, and I'll see you in January. I promise to have flossed more by then. Really!

Sincerely,
Michelle