Hey Mama, Whatchu Want?

My girlfriend Julie sent this to me last week, and although it's cute, it's not really me. I did add it for your viewing pleasure though...as some of you might identify with it.

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, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.

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 (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.

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; and a refrigerator with 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 two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

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.

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.

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 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.

But if I were to write a letter to Santa, it might sound a little more different. A little more ME. Some call it je na sais quoi. Whatever. Nonetheless, here it is.

Dear Big Daddy,

I have not been that great of a mom this year, but I'm hoping you know a little something about forgiveness and mercy. I could certainly use it. I mean, I haven't been horrible by any means, but I wouldn't qualify to win any awards or anything.

Now don't get me wrong - I have fed them. And yes! Cheese Puffs and broccoli are considered a well rounded meal.

I've cleaned them. Though they haven't always looked it. But hey! That ain't my fault.

And I've cuddled my children on demand. Okay, that's not actually true. Because usually if I cuddle them it comes with a price. And that price is that they cuddle me in return. So it's a wash.

I would prefer you not spread these items out over several Christmases, since I am girl who knows nothing about delayed gratification but firmly believes that we should try to get it all - and get it all at once.

Here's what I'm hoping for:

I'd like a new pair of legs. That's it, just a new pair of legs. A pair that look better. That's all I ask.

I would ask for arms that don't flap in the breeze but I'm not sure you've got that kind of time. Besides, I might need these mighty indestructibles from time to time when protecting myself from any move that Kung Fu Remi might be throwing my way.

I'd also like a waist. Maybe I've got one. I don't know. I haven't seen it since my mom made me wear that Mexican dress to my 8th grade dance. But I know I had one at one time. But it was pretty long ago and I'm pretty sure it left no forwarding address. So any waist will do.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like "people." A lady to clean my house. A man to mow my yard. A woman to do my laundry. And some really really big guy to stand in front of the television and yell, "NO! This TV don't play nuttin' but the Golden Girls. You got a problem with that?" Oh, and a butler who comes whenever I ring a bell, but doesn't ask silly questions like, "What can I get for you madam?" He just says, "Will that be buttercream icing or cookie dough?" And then finds it hysterical and girlishly delightful when I say, "Yes."

If you're bringing in really big ticket items I'd like a husband that wants to do his own laundry, prefers eating out and gets frustrated when I won't spend time reading vampire novels.

And if you're into really really big ticket items, George Clooney.

It would be super cool if you could somehow get my dog to bark the words "Don't hit him on the head, Remi". I only ask this because my dog won't shut up barking and I seem to go hoarse saying this all day - so one of us should come out a winner.

I hope it's not too late to find any of these things. Because I gotta tell ya, 2009 is gonna be a slow year if mama don't get at least one thing on this here list.

In the mean time, when you get to our place, make yourself at home. If you tracked in mud we'd never notice it and if your cookies crumble all over the floor, well, what else is new?

All my love,
Melissa

P.S.
Some women may feel the need to request that their kids believe in you all their lives. I know you'd like that, but Santa, let's be honest - that's just nonsense! However, you put George Clooney under my tree? I'll see what I can do.

So mama's - what do you want this year? You never know who might be listening.