Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, and sold forty-two pizza kits to raise money to send the eighth graders on a mission's trip to Costa Rica. I've gone on two field trips and helped with a first-grade Thanksgiving feast. I've even taught a Sunday School class and carpooled seven kids to school every day. I know you are used to hearing from children, but I would appreciate your attention to my list as well.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have)and arms that don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my pouting, label-conscious teenager out of that expensive store at the mall. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. And that was more than seven years ago!

If you're delivering big-ticket items this year, then I'd like a radio that only plays adult music, a telephone that detects if someone of the opposite sex is calling my daughters, a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking sponges or professional sports players, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone. A hot water heater that cuts off the showers after five minutes would be nice too.

On the practical side, I could use a robot that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with four 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." My voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the neighborhood dogs.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and apply real make-up in the same morning and not in the van on the way to school. The luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature that didn't come in a Styrofoam container would also be appreciated.

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 also 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 dryer is buzzing and it's time to chauffeur another child to a lesson or practice somewhere. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and hang up your coat and sack. Help yourself to the cookies on the table, but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Oh, and one more thing. I was hoping you could spread my list out over the next 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 more free time in the next 18 years? Thanks Santa!

Yours Always,

A. MOM

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep
my children young enough to make me crazy every Christmas!