My name is Mommy. Well, actually, it's Christy, but these days I mostly go by "Mama," "Mommy," or "Maaaaaaa!" The last version usually accompanied by tears and screaming. I realize that I'm a few years older than your usual correspondent, but I hope you don't mind me sending you my Christmas list, too.
I'm not looking for any toys, jewelry or clothes. I won't ask for elves to help with the decorating, shopping and wrapping. (Though if you want to spare a couple, I promise to feed them really, really well.) I'm leaving my requests for peace on earth and my family's continued blessings to God. What I want from you are the following:
1. Three full nights of undisturbed sleep. No interruptions. No crying children. No wails for a pacifier. No getting out of bed because of monsters. Minimum of 8 hours, preferably from 10-6, though I'm willing to negotiate times.
2. An entire day filled only with good smells. Cookies, flowers, chicken noodle soup, chocolate. No sour milk or spit up. Poopy diapers that are unscented. Hands that smell like my nice lotion instead of diaper cream.
3. And if I may add one material item to my list, I would love to have a Diaper Genie that does what a genie should: Disposes of the dirty diapers completely -- without me changing the bag -- then restocks with fresh clean diapers so I never have to go shopping only for diapers. That's just depressing.
I understand how hard your job must be -- all the shopping and wrapping, the millions of children asking nonstop for things, the deadlines. But I have been a very good girl this year, so please do your best to surprise me with a gift from my list.
Merry Christmas and thanks,
Mama to Amelia (3 1/2) and Sam, Isaac and Alex (14 months)
This post is part of Writer's Workshop. Hosted by Mama Kat.