Dear Back Fat

Dear Back Fat,
I do not love you anymore. Frankly I am not sure that I ever truly loved you. To be perfectly honest, at first I didn't even notice you. Like a creepy, jiggley stalker,you followed me around ever so quietly. Not a sound. You slowly became a part of my life, yet I do not remember welcoming you.
Of course you have your strong points, I would never deny you this. You've been so willing to commit without a single complaint. Remember that time I practically smothered you when I was out with my friends in my hot skinny jeans? They didn't even notice you. Yet you were willing to just stick with this girl like the icing from a little debbie double fudge brownie. Don't believe that I am heartless. I won't forget how you kept me warm that night in Jersey, when the heat went out and Tony never showed like he said he would.
All this you offered...but... I just do not feel right when I am with you. You make me feel like a rock covered in slimy green moss. Well, I am not a rock and I do not love you, and this. is. goodbye.
You can start moving out while I am out for a run today. I will burn any speck of you that you leave behind. We are so over. You are so over.

Wishes,
Neena

Dear Back Fat

Dear Mac

Dear Mac,
Really? I saw you. I was looking out the window. I witnessed your practically gleeful jump from the roaring recycling truck. I saw you smile a bit after you emptied the bin and tossed it carelessly into the driveway again.
Do you mind me calling you Mac? That is what I imagine your name to be, it may be cliché, do hope you don’t mind.
As you could surely tell from the flattened Midol box and mountain of Hershey’s foil wrappers, this has been a tough week. Endless hours of laundry and I still found time to separate the plastics from the cardboard. I didn’t leave a drop in those bottles of wine. I left them bone dry and ready to recycle. That is not easy to do while breast feeding Mac, but I did it. For you. And for what? I imagined myself going out and moving the empty bin to the side before I drove off to the grocery store, but it slipped my mind somewhere between diaper changes and mother/daughter cookie consumption negotiations. Have you even been in talks with a four year old Mac? It’s a pressure cooker in there.
We emerged from the house a few hours later covered in breakfast, trailing coupons and cheerios. I wrangled my three precious darlings into the van. I slammed it into reverse just as my tiniest little lamb exploded in angry pleas begging for freedom from the straps. I can drive with sippy cups flying at my skull, with a latte in one hand and a play date schedule in the other, but NO, I couldn’t miss that bin.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the one surviving corner of the bin had not clung to the axel as I barreled through our subdivision blasting Kiddie Bop 2000 out the window. I looked nuts Mac and I don’t need much help in that department these days.
Anyway, Mac, could you send me another recycling bin? Bill me separately again.
My husband is still under the impression that I am a super mamma by day/ diva by night. Let’s not spoil it, shall we Mac?

Wishes,
Neena

Dear Jane Anne

Dear Jane Anne,

I think of you often. I have heard of you from my first moments in the school yard. My mum dressed me up and sent me out to play… “beware of the Jane Annes” she would shout. I know when we are young we know not what we do, but Jane Anne, how could you do it? Did you have it planned all along? Did you just snap Jane Anne? How ridiculous you must have looked when you hit my poor mother and snatched her sweet Teddy while she was down. I imagine your curls flying like fire in the wind as you laughed wildly fleeing the scene of your crime. Late at night when my mother sleeps she often calls to you… “bring back my teddy Jane Anne Bricken”
All my life you have plagued us. No wrong that has ever been done could out do you in the eyes of my mother Jane Anne.

Wishes to you Jane Anne,

Neena

Wonder Neena

Today is Wonder Neena's first day.