Alright St. Nick, let’s try this again.

Dear Santa (part 2),

I’m not sure what happened last year seeing that I didn’t get ANY of the things I asked you for. I remember waking up at the crack of 10 am and running out to see what you had left me under the tree, only to find that the only ones who got gifts were my daughters. I was so puzzled, I knew I had been a good girl because I asked my husband and he told me that I’d definitely NOT been naughty…

Anyway, what’s the deal, Santa? I know you’re a man of a certain age, but I would assume that one of your elf helpers would’ve reminded you about your responsibilities as the grantor of Christmas wishes. If you still need a reminder click here, that’s the letter I sent you last year, I even sent it before Thanksgiving to make sure you received it with plenty of time. Maybe I should’ve sent it right in the middle of summer. I specifically remember asking you to give me the ability to cook; yet, it’s a miracle I haven’t poisoned my own kids.

But you know what? Water under the bridge. I’m not one to hold grudges. So how about we make amends and start from scratch? Yes? Perfect! Here’s my list for this year. I promise it’s not as ambitious as last year’s.

1- An invisibility cloak.

I don’t know about you, Santa, but sometimes I just feel like disappearing. But you know, I have two young daughters so that would be bad if I actually did disappear. So I thought that an invisibility cloak would be perfect for me. I would still be able to see them, but they wouldn’t see me, which means that for once, they would ask their father for help instead of me, the little one would at least make an effort to wipe her own butt (she can do it herself, I’ve seen her, she just conveniently “forgets” how to do it when I’m around), my husband would be forced to look for the white t-shirt that’s RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM and my name wouldn’t be called out one thousand six hundred seventy three times in an hour.

2- Tickets to the Ellen DeGeneres show.

I loooooooooooooove Ellen and I really, really, really, really want to go to her show. Going to the Ellen show would probably feel like Christmas morning for grownups, but better. Oh no, did I offend you? I really didn’t mean to, it’s just that Ellen is amazing and funny and amazing and she voices Dori so she’s even more amazing! Would you like to come with me? I’m sure you guys would get along great. You can be my plus one.

3- Thousands of Starbuck’s red cups.

Please deliver them to all of those who have nothing better to do with their time than to complain about a stupid red cup that “does not symbolize Christmas.” What more do you want, people?!? They literally have a Christmas Blend coffee bag. CHRISTMAS blend!! And their stores are covered in Christmas decorations! It’s like Santa threw up in there!

4- Dirt/smell/stain repellent clothes.

Because you know how much I love to do laundry… How wonderful would it be not to panic every time someone spilled chocolate milk, or pasta sauce, or wine, or anything else for that matter.  All that time I’m going to save not doing laundry could be quality time spent completely alone in my room binge watching anything.

5- Infinite patience 

Because, “Mami, where are my shoes?”, “Mami, I want some water.”, “Mami, I spilled the water.”, “Mami, I don’t feel like going to school today.”, ” Mami, I don’t like that food.”, “Mami, I’m not hungry.”, “Mami, I’m staaaarving!!!”, “Mami, I farted HAHAHAHA.”, “Mami, she hit me.”, “Mami, I punched her back!”, “Mami, what are you doing??”, “Mami, why are you screaming into a pillow?”

6- Awesome dance moves.

I want to be able to break out in song and dance WHEREVER and WHENEVER I feel like it. I don’t care who I embarrass as long as I don’t embarrass myself. My issue is that I only know how to do the MC Hammer and The Robot. I tried doing The Sprinkler and I ended up at the chiropractor’s. So maybe swoosh your little magic wand or super Santa powers and give me some super impressive dance moves. Or better yet, send Beyoncé to my house for a weekend so that she can bestow her awesomeness upon me. Yes! Yes! Send Beyoncé….and Ellen DeGeneres while you’re at it.

P.S.

If you’re feeling generous, please magically replace my back. I have a feeling I might throw mine out after Beyoncé is done with me.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

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I am a wise one I tell you!

A few posts back I wrote about this to-do list I started the day I found out I was pregnant with my first baby. It’s basically a list of things I needed to learn before she was born and obviously still haven’t because postponing everything is how I roll.

What I didn’t tell you though, is all the things I’ve learned that have made me the Master Mother Sensei that I am today. Not really, but it sounds bad ass so just humor me.

I think I read a few pages each of all the parenting books I bought while pregnant. I stopped reading them when I figured out my obgyn was giving me the Cliff Notes version on every appointment, and frankly, I preferred to spend as much time sleeping since everyone kept drilling into my head that once you have a baby you will never ever in a million years even when they get married and leave the house sleep again. This is in fact….a fact.

I’ve somehow managed to become an expert on a few areas and I would love to spread my wisdom. Please take note, this is very important:

POOP 

Everything I know is based on usually chaotic experiences, things that just suddenly happened, followed by frantic online searches (don’t ever do that) and calls to the pediatrician, only to have her tell me it’s all perfectly normal and that I should have really read the books. Case in point, the day my daughter proudly showed me the neon green poop she had just left in the potty. One panicky Google search later, and I quickly learned that she was either slowly turning into an alien or that artificial coloring does exactly that, artificially colors your baby’s poop. Damn you Lucky Charms.  7 years later I am the poop expert in my house. One quick look and I can tell you what they had for dinner the night before. My parents are very proud.

TOYS

I’m also, of course, a toy connoisseur.  I have spent my fair share of time playing with ALL OF THEM, so I know for a fact that Ken is gay and he might be having an affair with some other Ken dude that never has his pants on. I’m surprised Barbie still dates him, she seems to be a smart girl judging from all the jobs she currently has (Vet, Hairstylist, Mom, Teacher, Park Ranger and everything in between), but she just can’t get a clue that her boyfriend has better clothes than her and is constantly hanging around another blondie with a mad six-pack. Barbie, break up with him, but still keep him around. Trust me, they throw the best parties ever and they make the best friends a girl (or anyone for that matter) could ask for.

Ken, tell Barbie the truth and then come find me, we can totally be bff’s. image via dailybest.it

Hungry Hippos are just that, 4 starving hippos that never seem to get full because this mind numbing game never ends.

Mickey and Minnie are way overrated and have been collecting dust on the top shelf.

Monster High dolls have freakishly long legs and skinny torsos and they dress like ‘women of the night’, because calling them whores would be a little mean, after all, they are teenagers.

Hello Kitty will forever be a cat, no matter who says otherwise.  I will not let you crush my childhood.

Cabbage Patch Kids are still around, and guess what? They still have the same awesome smell they did before. Don’t pretend you never smelled them.

All this vast knowledge I have on toys is obviously because I’ve purchased them all for my daughters, which brings me to my next point of expertise…finance.

FINANCE

I learned this summer that once your daughters find out there is an American Girl store in your area, you might as well just kiss your 401k good-bye and walk inside because they will stop at nothing until they get one. That means cleaning their rooms and eating Brussels sprouts.

They have also been collecting these little dolls called Mini Lalaloopsy for about 4 years now.  Each one of them comes with their own personality (some very questionable), a pet (of course) and one million accessories (why not?). They cost around $7.99 each, multiply that by 91, add to that 2 American Girl dolls plus whatever accessories and outfits they’re going to want, at least 3 yearly shopping trips to the mall because they never stop growing, plus lots and lots of grocery shopping and you have what I like to call a one way ticket to bankruptcy city.

Bye, bye my loves :(

Bye, bye my loves :(

 

Hibernation 

It usually takes me getting ready to go out with my hubby in order for either one of my daughters, if not both, to suddenly, out of the blue, get sick. Not before, when I’m still lounging around in my yoga pants. No. They wait until I have brushed my hair, put on make-up (concealer and strawberry chap stick), squeeze into my skinny jeans and break out the stilettos for them to throw up out of nowhere.

If we do manage to slip away for a quick bite or even, wait for it….a movie, we will undoubtedly get a call from grandma saying that they’re either coughing too much or have a horrible, horrible tummy ache. And of course, because I’m as paranoid as it gets and must rush to their sides every time they say “ouch”, by the time we get there, whatever “ouchy” they had magically disappears.

So now I keep the house stacked with medicine, snacks, unread magazines, movies for the young and old and loads of toys, because I’ve become quite an expert hibernator, not that I mind now that the weather is starting to suck again.

And there you have it! 4 things I’m really good at. Next time I’ll talk about child psychology or something more profound that doesn’t involve poop.

 

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