Letter to Santa, from the mom of school age children - Journals

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Letter to Santa, from the mom of school age children
Nov 20, 2009 at 7:44 PM
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- aretheyallyours
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A few years ago, I read a selection from Erma Bombeck, I think. It was a mother's letter to Santa. In that vein, I wrote my own letter, as the mother of school age children. Enjoy!

Dear Santa,
I'm writing you today with my own Christmas wish list. I've enclosed the lists of my children. Note the scratches through BB gun and bowie knife, cell phone and dirt bike. Yes, I'm one of those parents and I just can't approve of gifts like that yet. (Maybe during those teen years - coming soon.) At any rate, I've been a decent parent this year. As the years go on, my confidence dwindles. I've fed my kids, forced them to bathe, bribed them to clean their rooms, tackled fourth grade spelling lists, listened to them read, flossed their teeth (most nights, okay we skip sometimes), dragged them to the doctor, kissed their boo-boo's (but only if no one is watching), cleaned up vomit, and scrubbed out their underwear!
I'd like everything this year - I need to reload my parental arsenal. And this should make it easier for you to read - I am not writing this list in crayon anymore! I have moved on to the flashing pen that my children recieved from those amazing grandparents and am writing on the back of a note sent home from my son's teacher that explains why he had to miss recess again.
Here's my list:
I'd like the butt I had when I was chasing a toddler around the house. Now that my children are older, I don't have to run after them to pull the car keys out of the trash. I seem to have lost some shape because of that. Or maybe I need to exercise more. You remember I used to complain, when my kids were toddlers, about the little tiny extra weight in my butt? Well, I want to trade for it back. Now that I'm older, I seem to have someone else's extra weight.
I'd also like an ivisibility cloak like on Harry Potter. Then I could talk on the phone, check my email, breathe, without contant interruption. Oh, I just remembered, I'd like some earmuffs for my daughter. I know they didn't make her list, but I need her to have them. It's just that she has this mechanism in her ears that alerts her to the fact that her father and I are discussing something she shouldn't hear. It's like a switch turns her head to cock her ears in our direction, even if we're four rooms away with the doors shut and the dryer running. Oh, and an alert button for our sons. Something we can sound when the tv is on and they can hear nothing else. Maybe like a dog whistle.
I'd love to have extra memory installed in my brain. I think of it like computer memory. I just need more. I can't seem to remember all the field trip forms, lunch money due, class projects, web log reading, blue homework folders, on top of guitar lessons, cub scout meetings, CCD lessons, overdue library books, pringles cans that the teacher needs, water bottles for basketball practices, parent conferences, and on and on. I can't remember the rest, but you know where I'm going with this.
I'd like a new attitude adjuster for Christmas. Top of the line please. One that stops eye rolling and snorting. One that can stop the giggling associated with a child realizing that you can't fit in your jeans. Something that stops the huffing, stomping, and door slamming that I think is just beginning. I need a product that zaps my kid whenever she thinks she's smarter than me because I can't do fourth grade math. They do it differently now!
And something that brings back the child's belief that I know everything. It's devestating to try to impart some amazing knowledge to your child and have them say (with attitude, of course), "I know that already, you don't have to tell me!" Something that gives them back the look in their eyes to know that I am right up there next to God instead of closer to old news. Toddlers are exhausting, but to them every new realization is a miracle. To schoolage children, every new realization is something their parents didn't already know. Maybe to teens every new realization is something they didn't know they already knew. Hmm. We'll see.
I don't expect the Christmas miracle of having children that don't argue. I just want a soundproof window that can go up between the front seat and the back, so at the flip of a switch, there can be Peace on Earth. Or at least in the car.
One Christmas miracle I could use would be silence before 7 am. You know I am not so good first thing in the morning. I know this is a lot to ask for. That's the reason there are extra cinnamon rolls on the table by this letter.
Please don't forget the popular roll of duct tape as a stocking stuffer. This amazing product tops the list of every parent of a schoolage child this year. I could use it to fix a broken sword, hang a poster of Cole Sprouse (ask any 10 year old girl) to the wall, or if the fighting is really bad, well, you can picture what it could be used for. I ran out of my last 23 rolls.
I just realized that I need to sign this note and send it back to my son's teacher, so I'll need to retype this on the computer.
Thanks so much for everything,
Mom
PS. If you could gift wrap all of these and stick them under the tree, that would be great. In the rush of filling my kids wish lists, I forgot to get myself anything. Thanks.

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