I am past the point of writing letters to Santa Claus, but I am not past the point of believing in Christmas miracles. I'm thinking that if I just put what I want down on paper, I just might get it. The funny thing is that the things I want don't seem all that hard to get, but any mami will tell you that at times they seem impossible. This year I am writing a letter, but not to Santa because Santa can't do shit for me. This Christmas letter is to my two girls because they are the only ones that have the power to give me what I truly want.
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Mis niñas lindas,
I am so excited to be spending another holiday season with you. You two make every special occasion even more special. I know you are excited too as you keep talking about it. It's fun right to think of all the gifts that Santa might bring, right? Good luck to you on that front, but what about me? Oh yes dears, I totally expect you to give me something for Christmas. Don't worry you don't need any money to get me what I want and you need not pull out a glue sick or child-safe scissors either. The stuff I want is totally free and well within your power to give. So, here is my list. Thank you in advance and try not to make a mess.
- Please stop wiping your boogers on me, it's gross. I've told you it's gross and still you keep doing it.
- I would really like to take a poop in private every now and again. As much as I enjoy your company and as good as I am at multi-tasking, tying your shoes while I'm on the can is no fun for me.
- Hmmm, while we're talking about the potty … howz about you guys become expert self-butt wipers? It's time don't you think?
- On the weekends I would like to sleep in until 8:00 a.m. You don't have to. You are welcome to wake up whenever you like, but do NOT wake me up until the digital display on your clock reads 8:00. For crying out loud, I'm not even asking you to tell time the "real" way.
- I realize that my figure is not what it used to be since I had kids, although you have no way of knowing that, BUT your offhanded comments could make a weaker woman cry. When I take off my bra, please don't look at my belly area and ask if I'm having another baby. It's called gravity, you'll learn about it in school.
- Never EVER stop kissing and hugging me as much as you do now. Please!
Your loving, tired mami with the less-than-perky breasts,
Claudya
Image via Thinkstock
