Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Hey there, Santa.  It’s been a while. It’s me, Marisa.  Well, my alter ego is Marisa and she’s the girl you may remember.  Over the years, I sent you lists asking for things like purple legwarmers, a Michael Jackson purse, Cabbage Patch Kid bed sheets, a lockable diary, and a mint green cassette player and blank tapes so I could record songs from the radio.  You probably don’t recognize me anymore because so much time has passed, I’ve moved a few times, and these days I go by Mama.

This letter may be a little longer than what you’re used to reading, so I’m sorry about that.  I’m making up for lost time.  Before I get into the nitty gritty, I first want to tell you that I believe in you.  I really do.  I have believed in you since I was a little girl and that hasn’t faded with time like it has with most people.  My faith in you has stood the test of time.  Do you remember when my sister and I saw you?  I can’t tell you the exact year, but it was in the early 80s in Raritan, NJ.  My sister and I woke up, quietly walked out to the living room,  and saw you putting gifts under our tree.  You were beautiful–kind of like a hologram and your body was outlined with tiny, white twinkling lights.  You turned around and your face revealed that you were startled to see us.  Carla and I looked at each other with complete childhood amazement and delight.  When we looked back to the tree and to you, you were gone.  My sister and I will never forget that day for as long as we both live. Do you remember me now?

We like to think that you chose to show yourself to us for a reason.  So here I am 30 plus years later and I’m calling in a favor.  I have been so busy teetering between my multiple personalities of Marisa and Mama. Shoot, I may have another personality lurking that is yet to be discovered {I like to call her Cinnamon–she wears stilettos and doesn’t trip wearing them}. It gets confusing to go from Mama to Marisa and then Marisa to Mama, and maybe sneak Cinnamon in when the mood (and wine) strikes. I’ve also been busy planning Christmas for my two little girls–writing their lists, making menus and decorating our home in my mind.  I want this year to be super special.  But I got to thinking… I’ve also been good this year and I have a list too.  So here it is.   And by the way, this is Mama’s list.  Marisa is making a list by circling things in the Helzberg and Tiffany catalogues and leaving them by the toilet for her husband to discover. Cinnamon’s list is full of things we shouldn’t mention–wink wink.

So, without further ado, I present to you Mama’s Christmas List:

  1. Sleep–just give me a few nights where I can get a full 8 hours of uninterrupted, glorious sleep in the Sleep Number bed we paid a small fortune for
  2. House Man–I need a man who cooks and cleans for us; he does the yard work; he does the grocery shopping; he is a part time nanny. His name is Roberto or Fabio or something exotic like that, with dark skin and in good shape (because he’s outside a lot and lifting heavy things).  He’s hired help, Santa.  I have good intentions.  {Husband, if you’re reading this, I want a house man and not a woman because it just makes more sense.  He will only benefit us.  We’ll be able to spend more quality time together.}
  3. Guest house–for House Man to live in
  4. A pair of yoga pants with built-in Spanx–I need tummy, thigh, hip and butt control all built in to my standard mom attire and with the added convenience of not having to remove an unsightly undergarment
  5. A better toothpaste cap–invent one that is easier for my pre-schooler to actually put on and one that doesn’t make such a mess
  6. 24 hours alone–I want one day to catch up on all my recorded shows, read a book that doesn’t rhyme and/or isn’t about children, and maybe take an uninterrupted shower and straighten my hair
  7. Burp cloth–a good one.  I need one that covers my entire chest and actually absorbs the puke and blocks said puke from getting into my cleavage.
  8. A favor.  Could you please stop bringing my kids noisy toys? Like for forever?  I can’t take all the noise up in here.
  9. A bottle of red wine and a vial of Percocet. Cheap wine and generic drugs are fine–I know that stuff is pricey.
  10. Compound sliding miter saw–I have some wood I want to cut
  11. My boobs–1994 is calling and they want my boobs back!

Please try to work your magic for me.  In return I promise to instill strong values and morals in both of my girls.  I promise to keep the spirit of you and Christmas in our hearts all year round, for the rest of our days.  I’m juggling a lot, and it may be hard at times, but I will do my best.

Thanks, Santa.

Love,

Mama Marisa with a hint of Cinnamon

 

 

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