I know you keep tabs on all the kiddos at Christmas time (and I fear mine are currently on your naughty list, but hey, they have a few days to redeem themselves – or so I will tell them, bahahaha), but I think I also deserve to be included on your nice list.
Here’s why, and also some Christmas wishes of my own. I really hope you hear me out.
I know I’ve been a bit naughty
Santa, I know I probably sit on your naughty list. But I don’t think that’s where I belong.
Sure, I have a potty mouth, but you see, I am exasperated! Those kids of mine, who are on your naughty list for so many things I have lost count, have broken me. I need to drop the odd f-bomb under my breath occasionally because if I don’t, I might just explode.
Imagine, Santa, having to clean up your little one’s muddy footprints from the carpet, after you’ve repeatedly told them (and I admit, not as calmly as you’d like) to “WIPE YOUR FEET”? F!ck me. Or when making their beds, you find RED jelly crystals sprinkled all over the new truck bedspread that they STOLE from the pantry. Yep, swearing is not my fault, I swear!
I also know, Santa, that I tend to drink ‘mummy juice’ like it’s medicine come 5pm, but again, I need it. THOSE KIDS! I may also use Paw Patrol to babysit a tad too much, but how else would I make a phone call?
And Santa, I know, I know, I have broken your golden ‘no shouting’ rule, but I had to, and really, you need to rethink this.
I can’t help but be shouty
I know you are all, tsk, tsk, about yelling, but Santa, do you even have kids? I don’t think you do according to the books and movies. Because if you did, I don’t think there would be a song about suppressing your feelings: “You better not shout, you better not cry …” Kids need to cry and Santa, it’s a release.
Oh and as far as the shouting goes, yes, I agree they need to quieten down, but as for me, the truth is I can’t help but yell.
I know I shouldn’t raise my voice as much as I do, and believe me I do try the ‘calm parenting techniques’, but when we are running late and trying to get out the door, I can’t help but scream, “Put on your shoes NOW “.
But I really, really am nice
Santa, despite all of the naughty, I really am such a nice mummy.
Did you know that ten minutes before writing you this letter I sticky tapped a dead cicada back together, because my son was upset it had been decapitated?
Or that I read The Gruffalo until my eyes close from boredom, over and over every single night because it’s my boys’ favourite?
Did you even know that I pick out the slivers of spinach from the spag-bol sauce because my youngest is onto my sneaky ways and won’t eat his dinner with green bits?
My cuddles are also so loving that they can soothe every ouchy there is.
Oh, and I have also lost a hell of a lot of sleep because of those darlings of mine. All the nights spent breastfeeding, rocking, pacing the floor and soothing nightmares; being kicked because a little someone wanted to co-sleep, and changing bed-wet sheets have all given me a massive sleep debt.
I give and give and give.
So Santa, please take note of the below, because I really am good, I am so giving, but I am also bloody tired.
My mummy wish list
Santa, for obvious reasons, sleep is at the top of my wish list. I’d love it if you could please send over a few of your elves to babysit so I can have a full night’s sleep, as well as a sleep-in (instead of being woken before the birds). I’d also love a nap in the middle of the day, like my youngest has. Oh. My. Goodness. That would be amazing!
While the elves are there, could you please ask them to clean my ENTIRE HOUSE? I am talking about a deep clean. I shudder to think about the build-up of dust on top of the ceiling fans after five years of parenting. Oh, and could you also get them to straighten out my linen cupboard? Plus fold and actually PUT AWAY the washing, and get rid of all the old toys. That would be ace.
I can probably think of 10,000 other things I’d like, but I know I haven’t been THAT good, so if you could pretty please grant me these two things I promise to try and do better next year with the shouting thing. I can’t guarantee I’ll stop swearing, though.
From a naughty but actually very nice mum.