Yes, you. You're creeping me the hell out. It's bad enough that you have the most annoying voice ever, one that reeks of a poor man's Julie Andrews who's trying way too hard to get the part of Annie in a local theater production (yes, it's a mixed metaphor; get over it), particularly when you sing the alphabet, "Do Your Ears Hang Low?", and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." And it was even more irritating that you shouted "YOU'RE MY FRIEND!" at me in your cutesy-tootsy voice when I was putting you away. Yes, that was my fault; I shouldn't have pressed on your whatever body part it is that makes you say that. It was an accident.
But did you then have to demand, "HUG ME!" a good five to ten seconds after I had set you down? I DIDN'T TOUCH YOU! IT'S CREEPY AND WEIRD THAT YOU SAY THINGS WITHOUT BEING TOUCHED! I particularly didn't appreciate it because I was already in a shitty mood from having to put my daughter through a bout of "cry it out."
The only reason I keep you around is because my daughter thinks you're hilarious. But when you've worn out your welcome, know that you will be locked away in a closet, and if I ever so much as hear a PEEP out of you before I (reluctantly, oh so reluctantly) bring you back out when child #2 comes along, I WILL DE-BATTERY YOU AND LET MY REAL DOG RIP YOU TO SHREDS.
Dear Whatever Truck It Is That Is Making That Humming and Lifting Noise Down the Street,
I will scratch you the hell up with my husband's Santoku knife if you wake up my daughter. I don't know why you are making all of this noise when it is past 11 pm. Somebody better be having an urgent power outage or something. I suspect you are doing construction in the little cloverleaf area of the highway exit not too far from me. And while I appreciate that you are doing this construction at night instead of during rush hour, I repeat, I WILL CUT A BITCH IF YOU WAKE UP MY DAUGHTER.
In case you have any lingering guilt over the times that you left me to cry it out when I was a baby who had sleep problems similar to your granddaughter's, I want to formally state that I absolve you of all of it and do not hold a thing against you. So, for all of the times that I cried and flailed around and you sat crying by my crib feeling like the worst mother in the world, you were not. And I hope one day Meghan says this to me, because it feels like shit to sit there and do nothing while your baby cries, but I don't know what else to do. Giving her the breast just to help her fall back asleep less than an hour after she ate and went to bed is not helping her learn to sleep properly, and everything else (e.g., rocking, singing, walking, back patting, pacifier) fails at soothing her. I know you went through the same thing with me, so just know that you are absolutely, 100% forgiven (if you felt you needed to be; I know I do) and karma -- mine, that is -- is a bitch.