Dear world, I’m being held hostage.
They won’t let me eat. Or sleep. Or even use the bathroom in peace. They won’t take my money. They don’t even ask for anything, except chips and candy.
Every time I try to use the phone it’s as if they synchronize their clocks to all start screaming/fighting/whining at once.
My captors aren’t very strong. Heck, they’re not even that smart. They are easily distracted by a small piece of chocolate. But I still dance at their every whim.
The older one asks too many questions. What kind of torture is this? Do I look like I know everything? Then she tells me how to take care of the little ones. Really? I thought I was the one who gave birth to you. Patiently, I oblige.
The middle one can’t tell when something is running down her legs. It’s been weeks. I’m forced to clean up the dirty mess. And, with a smile, no less.
The little one seems to be in on the plan, even though he is much too young. I know they’re all in this together.
I’m told I must not scream at them, or they will scream back. I’m told I should not spank them, or they will learn spanking as a form of response. I’m told I shouldn’t always say “no.”
So here I am at their disposal.
When I manage to get a few moments of relative freedom, it is quickly shattered by a loud noise or a cough, which wakes up one, who wakes up the other, etc.
Of course, some days there is no freedom. It’s just 24 hour go time.
Since there seems no way of escape, I try to use the TV or other technological devices to “escape.” But even those I’m not allowed. It’s always their shows I have to watch. Or it’s their turn on the iPad or iPhone. Don’t tell them, but I secretly check my email in the bathroom. Or in the dark when they’re sleeping. Ha!
Others tell me to be patient and that I’m doing a worthwhile job. Some days I don’t feel it. My patience is always tested. I understand my freedom will come and then there are those moments of glory, for which I am grateful.
To those of you who will see this letter, I ask you all to pray for me. Pray that God gives me more patience. Pray for my sanity.
And to those of you who are going through the same ordeal, don’t laugh. I know you’re laughing at me. In fact, I bet you’re in on this, too.