My kids refused to sit on Santa’s lap….for the life of me I don’t understand where I’ve gone wrong with this. My oldest who is 13 didn’t sit on his lap until she was 7, and my two younger ones are probably headed in the same direction….I just don’t get it…is Santa scary??
I also can’t make them sit still long enough to compose their own letters to Santa, so I’ve decided
the hell with them I will write my own letter.
I have been good, and by “good” I mean I have done what is expected of me. I have provided food for the family even though they choose to snack on pepperoni, chips, string cheese, and Wheat Thins. I have clothed them daily; sometimes twice in one day if one of them decides they are too busy to go potty. I have done homework with the Teen only to have her “forget” to hand it in.
I have attended meetings at the school, driven the Teen to where ever she is asking to go, and allowed her to have sleep-overs when I would rather have some peace and quiet. I have attended school band concerts even though the Teen was told to “pretend” to play the saxophone since she doesn’t have one to practice on and can’t get out any notes no matter how hard she tries….
I have broken up fights between the toddlers…I have pulled Little Man’s hair when he’s pulled his sisters…Ok…maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, but, Dear Santa…I was at my wits end. Can’t you forgive this one??
I have cleaned up dog shit…and more dog shit…and MORE dog shit even though I wasn’t the only one that wanted a puppy.
I pick up all the toys several times a day. I clean up the Teen’s room mostly because when I go in there to wake her up in the morning, the fluster-cluck gives me an anxiety attack. I clean up the hairs that the spouse leaves behind after trimming his goatee…I try not to complain about this one because he keeps threatening to shave it off, and seriously….I don’t know if I will like him if he does this.
(Yes…he is aware of this risk.)
I have worked the measly hours that my supposed FULL-TIME job gives me. I have pinched pennies because my FULL-TIME job sucks hairy monkey balls….
I have stopped getting my nails done because my FULL-TIME job gives me PART-TIME hours…..
So, this is what I would like for Christmas….if you could….Dearest Santa…
- An automatic pooper-picker-upper.
- A doll that can take notice of when the hair pulling starts and it can say…”STOP!!”
- A set of feet that aren’t dry and scaly.
- Hair that does what it’s supposed to do each morning.
- An endless supply of Caribou Coffee’s White Chocolate Mochas…no whip, of course.
- I would like to stop sweating when everyone else is freezing.
- Hands that aren’t numb each morning, and possibly a cure other than surgery for carpal tunnel syndrome.
- Jeans that don’t cut off my circulation at the waist when I sit down.
- Warm fuzzy socks because my feet are the only part of me that don’t sweat…they freeze.
- Better circulation to my feet. (This might go with the requested jeans)
- A four-year old that doesn’t scream like her left arm is being cut off just because she is crabby and her little brother is looking at her.
- A two-year old that knows when NOT to look at his crabby-ass 4-year old sister.
- A Teen that knows the boundaries between parent and child. (ok…this IS asking for a bit much…I apologize for my greediness)
- A FULL-TIME job that gives me FULL-TIME hours as well as FULL-TIME pay.
- I would love a bit of patience so that as they are pretending to be “kitties” and meowing me to death, I can smile and accept that I gave birth to “kitties” instead of Einstein’s or Stephen Hawking’s…..
If by chance you cannot grant any of these wishes, I would gladly forfeit them for just a bit of Christmas Magic so that I can show my kids what Christmas is really all about.