Dear Santa,

Uh huh, you read that right. I’m going to take a night and indulge in one of the most heartwarming (and yet oh so hilarious events) I’ve ever had the pleasure to be a part of. This was the first year that my 4 year old was actually able to understand and “write” his very own letter to Santa. We did the whole bit with the envelope addressed to the North Pole (although I didn’t go completely crazy and pay for that “Dear Santa” letter thing). We got the Dear Santa part down and then my son got this very serious expression on his face.

After a few moments of intense concentration (and no writing) I asked him what he was doing. His answer? “Mother,” (all drawn out, I can’t wait until he’s a teenager *shudder*), “I want to get it right.”

“Get it right?” This from me staring in amazement (and confusion) at this little being who was looking like he had found a genie bottle and was only allowed one wish. I had been expecting a frenzied babbling of every toy he’d seen in every commercial for the last 6 months. “Honey, what would you really like for Santa to bring you?”

And it finally clicked. The slow grin spread across the face. Those beautiful green eyes lit up. And we were off.

“I want a rocket that will take me places like they have on Little Einsteins and I want a dragon that can live in our tree – he’ll be my very best friend. And I want a Power Rangers bike with the dragon and the sounds,” (finally, something I could actually take care of), “and I want a little brother . . . ” (Uh oh) “. . . the same age as me so that we can play baseball and chase together.”

Well by now I have writer’s cramp and a headache from trying to figure out how to get around the ‘little brother’ issue. And then comes the pièce de résistance . . . “and Santa, I want you to make it so my mommy doesn’t have to work so that she’s not tired and she can spend all day playing with me.”

Wow! Number one I don’t think anyone has ever wished that for me before (except for maybe MY mommy) and number two – instant ocean of guilt. Am I too short with my son? Do I not spend enough time with him? I work from home. We do lots of activities together. Do I work too much? Well yeah, probably. But I have a house to take care of and rising costs from every direction.

My little one looked at me and I guess he saw the worry on my face because he grabbed me by the cheeks, planted a kiss, told me he loved me . . . and pointed at the paper because he had thought of some other things he wanted to add! Oh well, one of the few times that a short attention span is actually a good thing.

So now I think I’ll write my own letter to Santa. And I’ll ask for the health of my family and friends, prosperity . . . and a few extra hours a day to spend with the love of my life.

PJacks