What this note manages to do is describe the truly hectic, completely engrossing, miraculously difficult job a parent has when alone with his or her kids — especially if he or she has six of them, as Meghan does.
It’s a reality that is under-articulated. Not that I would know, of course, seeing as the only creatures I’ve ever cared for are the flies that sometimes appear in the sink when I don’t do the dishes for a week.
But the 70K shares and the thousands of comments on the Facebook post from parents tagging each other speak volumes about the accuracy of the letter.
Oh, and by the way, she refers to their six children throughout as the others. Yes, like in Lost.
I’m writing this to you out of love, not fear. I wanted to go over a few things with you before you embark on this weekend alone…with the others.
Nighttime, daytime, breakfast time, and somewhere around lunchtime can easily be mistaken for pure HELL, with Satan coming off as a My Little Pony in comparison.
Dinner will suck. Bailey will want pizza, while Harper will ask for hotdogs. Quinn will cry when you say the word hotdog, and will insist on Mac n cheese (but not the orange kind or the white kind, but the purple kind).
You’ll also forget about Harper because her friend Lily “unexpectedly” stopped by, so they went ripsticking down the street. Everyone will eat cereal for dinner, and Lily will come inside for a bandaid.
You’ll want to sit down and relax after dinner/breakfast, but I’m warning you against this. It will get quiet…REAL quiet. This is when you’ll realize that the threenager has fallen asleep somewhere. Do NOT let the threenager fall asleep. You’re basically fucked if this happens. She will be wide awake until at least 1:30 am if you’re not careful. Given your 9:30 bedtime and 5 am wake up, this is less than ideal.
Bedtime…Good. Fucking. Luck, buddy.
Pajamas. FUCK pajamas. Don’t even ATTEMPT anything but a nightgown for Penny. And if you cannot find a nightgown for Penny, keep fucking looking. She’ll ask for her Minnie Mouse nightgown, but once you put it on, she’ll scream in agony because the sleeves are CLEARLY ripping her fucking arms off.
You’ll end up bringing Penny to bed with you, thinking that’s a good idea. Ha ha ha ha ha! You may as well sleep next to Evander Holyfield on uppers.
Oh, and don’t forget her fan. That girl sweats like a whore in church that just ate 12 beef sandwiches.
Breakfast. Ha! Just as fun as dinner…if not worse. Get coffee. LOTS of coffee. You’ll need it. Penny might want cereal, or she’ll go for toast. Whatever you do…LET HER PICK HER SPOON.
It’s almost lunchtime. Just start drinking now.
Lather, rinse, and repeat. I’ll see you Sunday.
Oh, also…just incase you wanted to get ANYTHING done this weekend…good fucking luck.
I think, when I’m older, I’ll just get a plant instead. Maybe a cactus. Those need very little water.