Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I am so behind this year. Here it is, December the sixteenth, and I have not bought one Christmas present. I barely got my tree up and decorated two days ago. And I have baked nary a Christmas goodie.

How can this be? you ask. It seems I am somewhat preoccupied these days. Juggling baby, work, laundry, cooking and cleaning has worn me out to the point where I cannot even watch a 20 minute TV show without dozing off and waking up an hour later asking Andy "What did I miss? Can you rewind?" (never mind the fact that he has moved onto and almost finished with another show).

I don't have time to eat meals anymore. It is 7:21 pm and I still have not fed myself anything for dinner besides one piece of buttered wheat toast.

Santa, I am tired so deep in my bones I sometimes have a hard time putting one foot in front of the other just to climb into my bed. (I know other moms out there are calling me a whiner, but cut me some slack - I'm new to all this juggling business.)

So the reason I'm writing you this letter is to make some special requests for those special people in my life.

For Andy: a job that pays him what he deserves. It's nice that he's working (trust me, we're grateful), but a guy can only work so many 12- to 16-hour shifts for lower pay. I think he might just fall apart one night and I won't know how to put him back together. The question is whether the emotional falling-apart or physical will come first.

For Max: a bigger stomach. I am trying to hard to get this kid on a feeding schedule, but now matter how much time elapses between feedings, he gets hungry early! A mom can only devote so much time in her life to preparing food, serving food, and cleaning up after the food for her child. If he were only more predictable, would eat more during a feeding, it would be ever so helpful for me.

For my parents and sisters: whatever they want. They have been so great, so supportive, so loving, and such great cheerleaders and babysitters since we moved to Utah and decided to remodel our house. They deserve whatever they want.

Seriously.

And for me, Santa: well, after I wrote this post and got the complaints all out of my system, the only thing I can think to ask for is this: please let me always remember every moment of what it's like to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, sister, and friend to these great people. I complain that there's too much to do, not enough time to do it, and not enough energy to go around, but even when I'm bone-tired, I get a hug, a smile, a laugh and there is noplace else I would rather be.

Or anything else I'd rather be doing.

Think you can deliver, Santa?

I hope so.

Love,
Alicia

PS: Thank you for bringing back Chuck.
PSS: Do you think you can help me get back to my pre-pregnancy weight any quicker? Thought I'd ask...