I'm writing this letter to Santa for Macy's and the Make-A-Wish Foundation's "Believe" campaign. Take a letter to Santa to any Macy's store nationwide and they will donate $1 to Make-A-Wish. Check out the cute commercial here.
Dear Santa-
So, it's been a while. And not just because I found all the presents that were supposed to be from you stashed in the hall closet Christmas Eve, and was then threatened that if I ratted my parents out to my younger siblings, I'd never get any presents again.
I've been a pretty good girl this year. I ran a 10K. I've eaten greek yogurt and green beans (not together) because I read online that they were good for you. I've gotten through 8 months of pregnancy with only momentary outbursts of insanity. I've read Fancy Nancy so many times she's started showing up in my dreams. I've shopped and cooked and laundried and scrubbed and dusted and waxed and laughed and played a lot.
I know most of these letters turn into a big, long list of material things that people want. And in an effort to not disappoint you, here's my list:
-I'd like for sleep to multiply
-Can you have the elves come up with a magic box in the kitchen, where when you say what you want for dinner, it magically appears? Hot, and served on my own dishes? And can it also have no preservatives, artificial coloring, or calories?
-I'd like a dog that stays a puppy forever
-I'd like one date night a week with my awesome husband and without guilt for not being with our daughter after being gone all day at work
-I'd like for the Beauty and the Beast CD in my car to disappear so I don't have to lie about where it went
-I'd like Mary Poppins to be my nanny. Not my daughter's nanny, MY nanny. And then maybe I'd like a nanny for my daughter, too.
-I honestly would like World Peace, so I can sleep at night and wake up the next day knowing that the world is right and people are intrinsically good.
There you go Santa. I know, it'd be much easier to just get me a pair of princess cut diamond stud earrings. Fine. Take the easy way out. But make sure they're at least a carat.
Love,
Carrie
And here's a much funnier Mommy's Letter to Santa by syndicated columnist Debbie Farmer. I'd like to echo her P.S. at the end.
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter's girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.
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 any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler 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 a car with 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 daughter doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with one potty-trained toddler, 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.
And please don't forget the Playdoh Travel Pak, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the In-law's house seem just like mine.
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 ketchup 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; or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire 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.
Yours always.....Mom
PS: One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.
