“When kids are torn between getting what they want and controlling themselves.”

My daughter’s letter to Santa this year.

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Dear Santa, I can explain…

He’s the yellow sponge you can’t find in my kitchen

He’s the kind of employee every employer wants

He’s the only perfect friend made for Patrick

He can annoy the mean people with his happiness

While

He spends more time with my daughters than their father

He brings my daughters a good laugh

And

He inspires me on how he sees things.

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The yellow sponge

“Kids have to exposed to different things in order to develop. A child is not going to find out he likes to play a musical instruments if you never exposed him to…”

– Dr. Temple Grandin

Writings of my daughter, aged 8.

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Like mother, like daughter

( A letter to my daughters when they grow-up )

 

Dearest Ali, Alecs & Andie,

First, maybe you will be asking me why I named you name of a boys.

This was because I wanted you all to have a balance perspective of the human race. But in reality, your mother just playing mysterious.

Second, the picture of the boy from my old photo album during my high school years was not just a friend. He was my first love, I told you that I will tell you his name when you’ve grow-up.

” Dennis “.

Third, I confessed that me and dad was the one playing Santa Claus every Christmas. I’ve made all the stories every time you caught me wrapping toys. And somehow that made me practiced my creativity.

Fourth, I was a late bloomer. Your dad and I was married because you all came into our life unplanned. It scares me to death for having you.

Fifth, I never lied to you about the status of my relationship with your father.

Sixth, I hate it every time you asked me for help and all I can say was, you can do it on your own. It hurts me to teach you to not need me anymore.

Finally, my only goal as your mother is to raise you all that you don’t have to recover from your childhood.

And maybe you’ll thinking why your names starts with letter A?

It is because you’re my first and top priority.

Your mom.

P.S. You all know that I love you so much. That’s the one thing I don’t need to confess.

Mom’s confession