A Mommy's Christmas List

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 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 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 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 daughter doll that
says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, and three pairs
of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.


Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my youngest
daughter saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think she wants
her crayon back.

Yours always.....

Mommy