It's been a very long week. Dad's been gone 7 days already. The emotions hit like title waves. I spent 3 hours going through medical papers with my mom. Dad kept everything...receipts, medical papers, prescriptions AND made a copy of everything too. I have 3 large trash bags to go out on trash day. I made it all the way home before I started crying. I just had this feeling that I couldn't shake, a feeling that I just wanted to turn around and go back. The thought of Mom all alone at night just breaks my heart. She hasn't been alone (with the exception of 1995) for 45 years.
But on a lighter side, this should make you laugh. It helped me.
I've been a good Mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the pediatrician's office more than my own doctor, and sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son'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, (in any color, except purple, I already have purple) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child 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 fingerprint resistant windows and 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 doll that says, 'Yes, Mommy' to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight 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 hands off your brother,' because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
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 chocolate a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants me to feed him or take him somewhere..
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off 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. (You promised me last year you would lose some weight with me so next year you and I could be a cute size six...) Okay, some requests go too far.....
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children, healthy, safe. And of course, young enough to always believe in Santa