Dear Guests,
Thank you for daring to step into a household filled with a teething little one, a spirited “threenager,” and two exhausted parents. I genuinely appreciate your company, which is why I’m inviting you to stay with us. However, I must extend my sincerest apologies for a few quirks that may have made your visit—how should I put it—distinct from a stay at the Comfort Inn down the street.
I apologize for my toddler waking you up bright and early, belting out “The Wheels on the Bus” at 6 a.m. on a Saturday. That was not the serenade I intended for you.
I’m also sorry that the only yogurt we have is in colorful push-up tubes and tastes like cotton candy. Not exactly gourmet fare!
I regret that you were taken aback in the middle of the night when you encountered a potty chair insert that played a cheerful Disney princess jingle as you tried to find some peace in the restroom. I understand how startling a swooshing magic wand sound can be during those quiet hours.
My toddler’s enthusiasm may have led to stickers being plastered on your skin, including your leg hair, eyelids, and even your neckline. I can assure you, that was not part of the hospitality plan.
I must apologize for the dust in our home. With only enough time to vacuum before your arrival, it won the battle against tidiness. So expect shiny surfaces next time—but crumbs on the floor for sure!
I’m sorry for the unexpected nudity of a small human during your visit; we’re in the midst of potty training, so it’s a phase we’re navigating.
I apologize for the early dinner at 4 p.m. to avoid a packed restaurant where judgmental eyes might witness my toddler indulging in spoonfuls of ketchup and my baby dropping food everywhere. A reminder for next time: takeout is the way to go.
I regret that the baby’s cries disrupted your sleep during the night. We follow the “cry it out” method—sorry, not sorry.
Our adult conversations had to be conducted in hushed tones once the kids were asleep, courtesy of our light-sleeping little ones.
I apologize if one of you had to eat while standing since two of our chairs were occupied by a booster seat and a baby seat.
Lastly, you might find yourself battling a cold after your stay; we’ve affectionately dubbed this phenomenon “The Daycare Special,” courtesy of my kids’ adventures with germs.
Yes, a home pre-kids is vastly different from one post-kids. But despite the chaos, I hope you remember that you are always welcome here, even if it means sacrificing sleep and privacy for an abundance of love. If you’re interested in exploring more about family planning and home insemination, check out our post on the at-home insemination kit. For a deeper dive into the experiences surrounding childbirth, you may find insights in this article on the blissful connection. Additionally, if you’re looking for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, the American Pregnancy Association is an invaluable resource.
In summary, I hope to offer you a warm welcome next time, chaos and all.