Dear Mother of the Year...

I try to be nice on my blog (yeah, I snorted while I typed that). I try not to call people out directly, but on more of an indirect way. I feel it is my job to educate my readers (all three of you) into knowing how I feel about certain issues (like saggy boobs and The Bachelor) and hopefully get you guys on the same page. But, alas... today is not one of those days. Today I am going to be mean. Today I am talking to someone in particular. Today... is judgement day. (Oh, how I wish I could get that movie trailer voice over guy to say that on my blog).

Dear Mother of the Year,

I don't know if you read my blog or if you even know of it's existence. I am sure surfing the net for things about me would take too much time away from your personal ads and video games which are so fulfilling in your life, but just in case, I have a little message for you. Ready? BE A PARENT!!! Got it? Good.

I am not a perfect mother. I am not even close. I screw up on what is probably an hourly if not quarter-hourly basis. But, guess what I do better than you (wait... trying to count all the things will take too long, so I will just tell you), I try. I TRY!!! And you know what? They deserve that. All three of them. And yes, I consider myself a mother of three, because if I don't act like Tabbi's mother, no one is going to.

The decisions you make are just wrong. I am sorry to be the one to tell you that, but obviously no one else is going to. We'll go ahead and use head lice as an example, but just because you are a lazy, cheap person doesn't mean your daughter should suffer. I realize you are not as financially well off as we are, but I can give you a wee bit of a hint on what you could do about that. GET A JOB!!! Tabbi doesn't deserve to have to worry about whether or not she is coming back from your house with lice. What if she went to school like that? What if it was found at school because you didn't feel obligated to either treat it or tell us about it? Do you really want her to have the reputation of being "that girl"? Don't you care about her at all? Because if you did, I cannot imagine why you wouldn't go ahead and skip that pack of cigarettes and treat her hair before your squatters infested her YET AGAIN! Don't worry though, as her mother, I took care of it. As her mother, I spent all day Sunday and Monday gathering her bedding, clothes, hair accessories and I treated it for lice. I spent the entire day yesterday ensuring that she wouldn't be "that girl" and you know why? Because I am her mother.

I know that Tabbi and I don't get along sometimes, and I know why. Because I am her mother. I am not her friend. I boss her and nag her and make sure she does homework and chores and a lot of the time she doesn't like me. And you know what that tells me? It tells me loud and clear that I am doing something right. And you know what else? She has all As this quarter. And you know what else else? She was elected to student council over 7 other kids in the class. When she lives here, she isn't the dirty kid in ill fitting clothes. When she lives here, she plays sports and her self esteem is 100 times higher than it ever was before because she is tasting success in life for the first time ever... and you know why? Because I am her mother.

For the record, I never wanted that title. When I married Mark, Tabbi asked if she should call me "Mom" and I told her she didn't have to. I told her that it was ok to call me Lynn because I am her stepmother. She already had a mother and she didn't need another one. I never wanted to take your place, but you know what I've learned over the years? I didn't take your place, because you never had it. You never acted like a mother to her. So, I stepped in to a vacant role, not yours. And, for the record again, I would like nothing more than for you to step into it yourself. Take the role from me. It was yours by birth, and I would love to be able to sit back and watch you take the credit for the brilliant and beautiful girl that Tabbi is turning in to, but you can't. You sit on your couch and BFF her instead of parenting. So, I guess you don't get the title of Mother of the Year anymore. Even with my intended sarcasm, it doesn't fit. You know why? Because I am her mother.

Sincerely,
Me