I've been a good mum all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor and sold 62 packets of lollies to raise money to plant a shade tree in the school playground.
Sorry I had to write this on the back of a receipt with my son's red crayon, but I'm in the laundry room between wash 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 colour except purple which I already have) and arms that don't flap around in the breeze, but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the confectionery aisle of the supermarket.
I'd also like a waist since I lost mine somewhere in the 7th month of my last pregnancy.
If you are giving away big items, I'd like a car with fingerprint-resistant windows and a radio that only plays big people's music, a television that doesn't broadcast talking animals and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the vegetable bin where I can talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a pair of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. Oh, and 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!
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. And would it be too much trouble to declare tomato sauce as a vegetable? That would clear my conscience immensely.
Well Santa, the beeper on the drier is beeping and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and help yourself to the biscuits, just don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
P.S. One more thing, you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children happy, healthy and always believing.