Dear Santa....

Dear Santa:

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, educated and cuddled my child on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, played strategy game after strategy game, drove her to many field trips all over the state, went to (almost) every soccer game and provided her with all the reading material she could go through.

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, playing, keeping up with my daughter (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to give all the cuddles necessary to my ten year old. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays NPR; 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, along with one dauther who will always independently complete her schoolwork, two people (daughter and husband) who live with me who will learn to pick up their dirty clothes 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 plate to the sink' because my voice seems to be just out of my daughter's hearing range and can only be heard by the cat.

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 daughter to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my husband didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my daughter saw my feet under the laundry room door I think she wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire 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

PS One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in you.