Mom's Letter to Santa

Dear Santa, I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter's girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son'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 legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

christmas baby in green

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting, "Don't eat in the living room" and 'Take your hands off your brother,' because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

And please don't forget the Playdoh Travel Pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the in-laws' house seem just like mine.

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, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

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 declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch a 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.

Mom's 12 Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas my husband gave to me, a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the third day of Christmas my children gave to me, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the fourth day of Christmas I went to the store, 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the FIFTH day of Christmas, I saw 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the sixth day of Christmas I drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

candy cane socks

On the seventh day of Christmas I found 7 broken ornaments, drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the eight day of Christmas I went to 8 holiday parties, found 7 broken ornaments, drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the ninth day of Christmas I made 9 trips to WalMart, went to 8 holiday parties, found 7 broken ornaments, drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the TENTH day of Christmas I did 10 loads of laundry, made 9 trips to WalMart, went to 8 holiday parties, found 7 broken ornaments, drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the eleventh day of Christmas I lived through 11 toddler meltdowns, did 10 loads of laundry, made 9 trips to WalMart, went to 8 holiday parties, found 7 broken ornaments, drank 6 cups of coffee, 5 twitter trolls. 4 teachers gifts, 3 school plays, no carpool school lines, and a creepy little elf on a shelf.

On the twelfth day of Christmas I took 12 sips of wine, and don't remember . . . what? where? who?



Read the NEXT Story



Thank you for visiting A Time to Laugh .org today.