Dear Santa,
I've been a good mammy for most of the year. I've fed, driven, cleaned and cuddled the kids on demand. Gone to the doctor's surgery more than the doctor has. I've sold God knows how many calanders, cakes, tickets, and . . . sorry, what were the school looking for again?
I was hoping you could spread my list out over the next couple of years, since I had to write this letter with # 3's crayon. On the back of a TK Maxx receipt. In the loo! I mean, who knows when I'll find enough free time in the next 18 years (or a pen for that matter - finding the crayon was a fluke. I wouldn't mind but I've been tripping over pens for weeks now but the minute you need one? Yeah!)
Sorry Santa, here are my Christmas wishes:
I've already written to you about the need for an arse that isn't misshapen and broken but I'd also like a new pair of legs that don't ache (any colour except purple - gotta pair of those) and arms that don't hurt and flap in the wind but are strong enough to drag a screaming child out of the supermarket.
Also, a waist? Please? I lost mine somewhere, think it was around the time of # 3.
If it's not too much trouple I'd like smearproof/finger proof windows and a radio that only plays proper music. A telly that doesn't show any programmes with talking animals or tools and a fridge with a secret drawer somewhere so that I can hide in it and talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says 'yes mam' to boost my mammying confidence along with three boys who don't fight and at least one pair of jeans that I can put on without lying flat on my back and wriggling like a mad thing.
I could also do with a recording of chanting hippies chanting 'don't eat in the playroom/sitting room/bedroom' and 'take your hands off your brother' as my voice seems to be out of the boys hearing range and can only be heard by the dog (who happens to be a nervous wreck these days).
If it's too late to organise any of this I'd settle for time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning. Or even the luxury of eating my dinner at a pace slower than that of speedy gonzales. Oh and a cup of tea that doesn't get microwaved a minimum of 3 times. Ick!
It would be really helpful if you could coerce the boys into helping around the house with being threatened or bribed 0 as if they were bosses of an organised crime family.
Well Santa, #3 has caught up with me in the loo, I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch a cold.
Help yourself to biscuits on the table but try not to eat too many or leave crumbs on the floor.
Yours with love,
Niamhxxxx
I've been a good mammy for most of the year. I've fed, driven, cleaned and cuddled the kids on demand. Gone to the doctor's surgery more than the doctor has. I've sold God knows how many calanders, cakes, tickets, and . . . sorry, what were the school looking for again?
I was hoping you could spread my list out over the next couple of years, since I had to write this letter with # 3's crayon. On the back of a TK Maxx receipt. In the loo! I mean, who knows when I'll find enough free time in the next 18 years (or a pen for that matter - finding the crayon was a fluke. I wouldn't mind but I've been tripping over pens for weeks now but the minute you need one? Yeah!)
Sorry Santa, here are my Christmas wishes:
I've already written to you about the need for an arse that isn't misshapen and broken but I'd also like a new pair of legs that don't ache (any colour except purple - gotta pair of those) and arms that don't hurt and flap in the wind but are strong enough to drag a screaming child out of the supermarket.
Also, a waist? Please? I lost mine somewhere, think it was around the time of # 3.
If it's not too much trouple I'd like smearproof/finger proof windows and a radio that only plays proper music. A telly that doesn't show any programmes with talking animals or tools and a fridge with a secret drawer somewhere so that I can hide in it and talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says 'yes mam' to boost my mammying confidence along with three boys who don't fight and at least one pair of jeans that I can put on without lying flat on my back and wriggling like a mad thing.
I could also do with a recording of chanting hippies chanting 'don't eat in the playroom/sitting room/bedroom' and 'take your hands off your brother' as my voice seems to be out of the boys hearing range and can only be heard by the dog (who happens to be a nervous wreck these days).
If it's too late to organise any of this I'd settle for time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning. Or even the luxury of eating my dinner at a pace slower than that of speedy gonzales. Oh and a cup of tea that doesn't get microwaved a minimum of 3 times. Ick!
It would be really helpful if you could coerce the boys into helping around the house with being threatened or bribed 0 as if they were bosses of an organised crime family.
Well Santa, #3 has caught up with me in the loo, I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch a cold.
Help yourself to biscuits on the table but try not to eat too many or leave crumbs on the floor.
Yours with love,
Niamhxxxx
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