My Precious Little Munchkins

Still full of mush and things. Please bear with me, it shall pass.

Hello my precious munchkins. It’s 2011 and just so you know I’m risking my cool status (yes o, your mama was like the coolest in her day) to write this. At this time everyone’s complaining that too many bloggers are writing letters to their children. It’s kinda true really, a lot of bloggers have written letters to their unborn children and I almost didn’t write one because as you know, mama hates to jump on the band wagon and do things just because everyone else is doing it. However. I had an epiphany. I realised that in 5 years time when they show their kids their letters, they will be the cool loving parents and I will be the one who has lost because I will have nothing to show you. So I’m sacrificing my cool now, risking chasing people away from my blog for you guys. I know right, what a great parent I am.

So.

Let me first start by saying those three words I know you want to hear:

YOU ARE WELCOME.

Yes my darlings, I know you’re grateful I married someone as handsome as your father so that with our combined genes, you guys turned out so beautiful. Again, you are welcome. Although technically, we should thank God for that because I have seen cases where good looking parents give birth to…well children. So pause for a minute, close your eyes and say “Thank you God.” I’ll do the same now as I write this.

Ok done.

I’m not sure what stage you are in your life right now as you read this but whether you’re still cute and cuddly or naughty or adolescent or adult, I want you to know that I love you. Pieces. Even when I’m screaming at you like a banshee, I love you. Even when I’m giving you strokes of the cane on your hand or your precious behind, I love you. Even when we fight about appropriate items of clothing, I love you. Even when at first we disagree on your choice of partner, I love you. Do you know how much love it takes to discipline you? I know it sounds ironical but it takes a whole lot. When I see you doing something that’s wrong, I have to try to correct you and make sure you don’t do it again. Sometimes this may involve using the cane or some other form of discipline and even though it hurts me too I have to do it so that you can turn out to be a decent human being. I know this may not make complete sense to you right now but I promise you that it will as you get older. I also promise to never beat you out of anger because…well that just blows. I want to be your friend. Your best friend. I know you have your regular friends outside but I need you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Anything at all. I want you to be able to tell me everything. Be it that math problem, the fight you had with your bestie or that boy/girl that you have a crush on. Mama’s ears are always open.

And try to always tell me the truth no matter the cost. This is very important. You know why? If you form a habit of lying to me, I won’t trust you and if I don’t trust you I can’t defend you. So if someone comes and accuses you of doing something I wouldn’t know whether or not you really did it. But if you always tell me the truth and you say you didn’t do something, I will believe you and defend you anywhere. Okay? Another thing, I want you to always come home no matter what. Do you hear me? The doors are ALWAYS open for you. Even if you ever do anything seriously wrong and you know I’ll be really upset please don’t take it outside. Bring it home. No one, I repeat, no one can love you like family. Absolutely no one. So when it feels like your own don be (that’s how we say you’ve reached the end of the road or you’re finished) know that my arms are always and forever open. Even if I get upset and discipline you with my right hand, I will still draw you in and give you a hug with my left. Because you are my babies. Always and forever. (Feel free to pause now and run to me and give me a hug if I’m home).

Lastly, but by no means ‘leastly’, hold on to God. As if your life depends on it. Because, it actually does. He should be the first person you talk with in the morning before you leave your bed and the last person you talk with before you sleep. And talk to him a whole lot in between. About everything and nothing. He is the only person who loves you more than I do. So you can even report me to him when you think I’m being unreasonable and if he agrees with you he’ll reprimand me. Yup he does that too. Ok honeys, mama’s got to go while she still has some iota of cool left. This post is kinda long, any longer and she’ll lose most of her readers. I love you my loves. All of you.

P.S- I will be expecting a reply (or replies depending on how many of you inherited the words). I’m sure at least one of you did if not your father and i will be having a ‘talk’ :/