Dear Danielle

Dear Danielle,
Today I would like to quit being your mom. I resign. First when I woke up with a cold and you woke up an hour early I didn't think I wanted to quit. Then when you discovered how to open doors and got my lipstick I sortof wanted to quit. Just so you know lipstick goes on your lips, not your eyes. Is there any child proof makeup I can get her that is just a bit cheaper. Suddenly I know why my friend wears really cheap makeup. It is expendable. I also didn't quit when you pulled your chair up to the counter and threw all the dishes you could on the floor, breaking most of them.
I didn't quit when I was nice enough to buy you a balloon and you handed the man six more when I wasn't looking because you had moved on to trying to eat the candy. I would like to personally punch whoever thought of putting all the candy at toddler height - I would punch them in the nose or maybe just put lipstick in their eyes. I also didn't quit when I didn't give them to you fast enough so you threw yourself on the floor and screamed. Or when you continued screaming for the 20 minute car ride home. Glad I got that errand done. Is it spiteful to pop all the balloons in front of your face? I thought so but next time I will.
What really made me want to quit was you pretending to take a nap. Next time you want to change your poopy diaper remember that your dress is not what you should wipe your poop on. Neither is your table. Or the floor. Good job on finding the 20 baby wipes you did use though. Please don't put the remnants of your adventure in your child size kitchen sink next time. Or hand them to me. I also didn't appreciate you dumping all the dog shampoo in the bath with you while I was rinsing out your dress.
Some days make you realize why your friends told you to have another baby now before you don't want to anymore. If I had only made it four more months maybe Danielle would be an only child.
Love,
your former mom.