Dear Santa Claus,
It’s been a while. Remember me? Sara? American Girl doll Samantha circa 1991 that I never got?
But I digress.
I am now much, much older than I was in 1991. In fact I am in my 30s, if you haven’t been keeping track. I am Joshua’s Mommy–I am sure you are familiar with Joshua, as he moves between your naughty and nice list on a moment by moment basis. In fact, I am sure you have an Elf dedicated specifically to keeping track of which list Josh is currently on. And I am also Olivia’s mommy, but she is only eighteen months old and a fixture on your nice list.
And I haven’t written you a letter in a very long time, but I have a list this year, if you would be so kind.
#1) I would like a bath. Complete with bubbles, candles, and no children trying to strip their clothes off and climb in with me, all the while asking why we can’t eat hot dogs in the bathroom.
#2) I would like to go five minutes without someone asking me why or throwing a two hour long temper tantrum when I say no, we cannot build a snow bank and jump off the porch roof into it.
#3) I would love eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Between working overnights as a paramedic and the fact that my daughter still does not sleep through the night, I am about to lose my sanity to sleep deprivation. If you can’t accomplish this, could you at least make my children nap at the same time?
#4) Peace on Earth. If this isn’t doable, I will accept Peace in the Playroom.
#5) Could you make my wi-fi magically disappear whenever I start looking at all the pictures on facebook of all the neat and amazing crafts and games my friends are doing with their toddlers? And remind me that their husbands don’t work three or four 24 hour shifts a week, and most of them did not work 72 hours last week like I did?
#6) Speaking of magic, is there anyway to make chicken fries into a well rounded, highly nutritive meal, since that is all my 3-year-old will eat these days?
And last but not least,
#7) On days like today, when my children are literally climbing the walls(and the furniture, and the stairs, and me), and cutting their hair with stolen scissors, and trying to run around naked; days like this when my children are perpetual motion and noise filled with dirt, could you make me always remember how extraordinarily blessed I am? That these two beautiful, healthy, energetic children are mine, and I am so very fortunate to have them? Remind me that the peanut butter sticky hands pressed onto my face are my treasure, and whenever I start to take them for granted, remind me that these two tiny faces are not going to be mine forever. Remind me to take today, with the chaos and the mess and the sleep-deprivation and all, and enjoy every moment with them. These babies are mine today, but they are not promised to me forever.
Remind me, Santa Claus, to enjoy every moment of this Christmas season this year, with two children who believe wholeheartedly in you, who are so excited with the magic of this Christmas. Remind me to stop and enjoy these moments, because even though these days of toddlerhood are so long, the years will be so short.
p.s. Please remember to eat the cookies and milk we will be setting out Christmas Eve. My son will be brokenhearted if you don’t.