What Mums Really Want for Christmas: Dear Santa...

What Mums Really Want for Christmas: Dear Santa…

What Mums Really Want for Christmas: Dear Santa…

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good girl this year. I’ve tried really hard not to have tantrums in the supermarket and I haven’t bitten a single one of my friends. I hope I’m on the good list, because there are a few things I’d like for Christmas. If it’s possible, please bring me:

1.       A lie-in. Until nine o’clock. Or eight. I don’t mind if the kids are in bed with me, as long as the toddler doesn’t sit on my head or kick me in the stomach and the baby doesn’t vomit on my pillow. That’s reasonable, right? I’d even take seven thirty.

2.      An uninterrupted poo. I’d like to lock the door and find no-one but me in the room. And I’d love it if I couldn’t hear the baby crying or the toddler shouting ‘Mummy, where have you gone? Mummy, where have you gone? Mummy, where have you gone?’

3.      An unshared biscuit. It doesn’t have to be a chocolate one. It doesn’t have to be a custard cream. I draw the line at a rich tea, but a plain digestive would do. Untouched by sticky fingers. Or at least unlicked.

4.      A sick day. Next time I have a cold or a stomach bug, could I please lie in bed all day and not wipe anyone’s bum or spoon food into anyone’s mouth? A half day, then. An afternoon.

5.      An hour of silence. In the middle of the day. When the toddler doesn’t insist that I hide my leg from him eight hundred times in a row, and doesn’t ask for a snack while still eating his lunch. Half an hour? Twenty minutes?

That’s it. Oh, but there are a few things I want for my children, too. I understand that world peace and a lifetime or health, wealth and happiness is a little too much to ask for. I’ve aimed a little lower.

For the baby:

1.       The ability to sleep through the night. Can I hear you laughing? Okay, then the willingness to go back to sleep after a night feed instead of grinning up at me with wide, unblinking eyes.

2.      Socks that will stay on her feet. Just one pair would do. I’d hand wash them every evening and let them dry while she’s not really sleeping.

3.      Bowels that produce a poo once a day, rather than storing it up for three days and releasing it over every item of her clothing as soon as I dare to leave the house.

For the toddler:

1.       The ability to put his shoes on the right feet. Just once in a while. Just one time in ten, maybe.

2.      An appetite for foods other than sausages, cake and eggs. Or at least a willingness to try. Perhaps a reluctance to spit the things I’ve lovingly cooked back into his bowl, so at least I can finish them off when he inevitably rejects them.

3.      An understanding that asking for the same thing sixty seven times in a row won’t change my answer. An understanding that, perhaps, forty five times would be enough to really make sure I’m sure.

I think that’s everything. I hope you and Mrs Christmas are well. You don’t have children yourselves, I understand? That explains why you’re so jolly.

Lots of love,

Laura Pearson (aged 36 and a half)

Like this? Then you’ll love Laura’s last Motherload blog about whether church playgroups are the right place for an atheist. Read it here

About Laura Pearson

Laura is a copywriter, blogger and unpublished novelist. She lives in Leicestershire with her husband and their two children – Joseph (2) and Elodie (3 months).

Blog: breastcancerandbaby.wordpress.com/

Twitter: @Cancerandbaby

Laura Pearson

Laura is a writer who lives in Leicestershire with her husband and their two children. When she’s not writing or reading, she can usually be found trying to get her son to put his shoes on, encouraging her daughter to sleep past 5am or moving small items from one room to another. You can follow her on Twitter and on her blog about getting cancer when she was pregnant.

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