Dear Santa....

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I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my child on demand, visited his doctor's office more than my own doctor's, caught my sons vomit in my hands, fundraised for his school with items that I didnt even want to purchase, and spent 2 days a week volunteering at his school when all I wanted to do was go back to bed for a while and watch reality tv.  

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmas', since 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 (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child 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 and while we are on the subject perky boobs since those seem to be gone as well while I was feeding my child to what seemed like 24 hours a day.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year, I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals or anyone named spongebob; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone and eat cold York peppermints and not have to share them with anyone.

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 or a dog that doesnt misbehave, chew, bark or tear anything up and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without having to lay down flat on the bed.

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

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 having to get up from my dining table chair to refill a drink, get the ketchup, or grab another napkin to clean up spills, .

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?  And can you make my favorite Starbucks drink fat free but still taste like a mound of sugary delight?  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.

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 door and come in to 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 floor.

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.