Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, helped with loads of homework and projects without complaining and sold forty-eight dozen frozen cookie dough boxes for the Jr High Band. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my daughter's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes: I'd like a pair of feet that don't ache or crack (in any color, except pink and purple which I already have due to being constantly on the go!) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming kids out of the car when we get home. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the last four pregnancies. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows for my car and my house and a radio that plays anything but The Cheetah Girls and Hannah Montana; a television that broadcasts something other than Dora the Explorer and Blues Clues; and a refrigerator big enough for six gallons of milk and a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with kids who don't fight and three pairs of Turbo tennis shoes to keep up with them all. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your sister," because my voice seems to be just out of my daughter's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog, who ran away. If it’s too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, time for breakfast at least once a week or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served through a drive-thru window. If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to make a magic paint for the walls? You know, one that does not allow any sort of pencil, pen, marker or crayon to be seen on it. It would help immensely in the clean up of the murals my walls currently display! It would also be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without rolling their eyes, deep grunted sighs or demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family. Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my daughters have seen my feet under the laundry room door. I think they want their crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always,

MOM

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa for another year. Many thanks!

(Written last year by my good friend Julie)