If there’s but one time of year where we can make a wish and believe, it is Christmas. I’m no exception; like every other kid, I have wishes. And I want to believe. I could wish for a new car, a new phone, or a new brain, but I’m not the materialistic type. Travel, then? Um, no. I want simpler things (and cheaper). So in case my family stops by, these are just a few of the things that moms would love, even if they don’t fit underneath the tree:
- Interesting conversations with our kids at dinner.
Me: “So, tell me about your day at school. Did you learn anything interesting?”
My kid: “Oh gross! Mom, he just showed his butt! Ha ha!”
While our kids mostly have “ha ha” moments at dinner, we moms mostly have “oh for crap’s sake, seriously?” moments. I’m totally pooped out.
- An invisibility cape. While we’re on the subject of potty talk, let’s say that mothers should be allowed to pee alone. (Oh for crap’s sake, guys; it’s not funny!)
“Mom, you there?”
“No. Go away!”
“I need to go! Quick!”
“Of course you do!” (Bite your tongue when you mean to yell: “I’m reading as fast as I can!”) “Use the other bathroom! Oh, no no no, get out of here NOW and close that door behind you.”
And that’s not even the worst part of it. Remember that one time when instead you begged them: “Oh, no no no, don’t you dare open that door” and you had three seconds tops to wipe before everyone at McDonald’s could see you with your pants down? Yeah, we’ve all been there.
- Neurons. If only to remember that there are more references in this world than Mickey, Jiminy Cricket, or Cinderella. If not with our own kids, could we at least have interesting discussions with our grownup friends again? On serious topics. Like greed or the destructiveness of envy or the poison of betrayal. (Which, by the way, can all have fatal consequences, as we’ve learned from The Lion King.)
- A guide to kid logic. Or PLEASE someone explain to us how water can taste differently if kids drink it out of a green or a blue glass, how sand is a better meal than mashed potatoes, or why they decided to paint the wooden fence in the yard using toothbrushes and water. Honestly, kids shouldn’t be the only ones asking all these Why questions.
- Self-control. Where’s our poker face when we need one? Even if we don’t understand our darling children’s minds, we still can’t laugh when they get in trouble. Okay, I’m just gonna turn my back and pretend I didn’t see what just happened in there. And never ask the obvious: “Why did you ever think it would be a good idea to spritz Febreze all over yourself and call it perfume?”
- A book of algebra basics: learn how to count using only integers. “1, 2, 2 and ½, 2 and ⅔, 2 and ¾, 2 and ⅘ … be careful, little boy, you don’t want me to get to 3!” I’m exhausting myself, really.
- A bigger bed. To be able to a) sleep, b) alone in it. I am willing to tolerate my husband in it, though. He’s the only one of my kids who requires the most adult supervision, and I don’t take my responsibilities lightly.
- A back massage.
“Ugh, no guys, I mean a real one, not you riding me like a horse. Stop jumping! The new trampoline is in the yard.”
“No, but get off my back or it never will be.”
- A day off from cleaning. Okay, I’m totally kidding with this one. I’ve given that up long ago. I still want a clean house, though.
- A glass of wine when it has become a desperate emergency to talk face-to-face with our house (in a high-pitched complaining cry; “Waah-whyyyyyy are you doing this to me?”) and arrange plans to clean it. Only wine helps to come up with better plans.
- Go to the movies not to watch a Disney. I can’t stand Disney movies anymore. Oh, shut up, Ariel!
- A quiet coffee where I can imagine myself lost in the middle of a coffee plantation in Amazonia. Yeah, right there in that little house over the top of the hill. Can you see yourself there, too? Five minutes of loneliness? We just want to remember what it feels like to be lonely.
- A shower that lasts more than 3 minutes. (Without having to pretend to be looking for the kids as we play hide-and-seek. “Yeah, yeah! I’m coming! Wow, you guys are really hard to find today!”) I’m ready to agree on 4 minutes at this point.
- No more unsolicited advice regarding the way we raise our children. Let me address you, The Walking Parenting Guides, who love to judge us normal (and apparently failing) moms. We really don’t care how your three-month-old only-child is such a doll and how you will never get to the level of craziness we experience because you’re hyper aware of their needs. Experience has taught us otherwise. Same goes with you, whose kids listened to you right away every time you said something some thirty years ago without you having to raise your voice, or whose kids played outside rather than with their iPads (uh …???) without you having to turn off the Wi-Fi signal (it was complicated anyway on your 56k modem, right?). We really don’t need to know how we should do this or that instead of what we are doing completely wrong. There are no perfect moms unless they know how to love.
- More wine. No more explanation needed. Just, more wine.
- More weekends and vacations. With or without the kids? Um, good question. Give me a couple of days without them to think about it.
- A fatigue removal spray. You know, to take care of the panda-like dark under-eye circles, the sticking straight up Cruella de Vil (dammit!) messy hair or different colored and shaped shoes. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired or when I didn’t put a coffee capsule in the dishwasher instead of a dishwasher tablet. (Thankful it never happened the other way around though.)
- Peace on earth. Or is it more realistic to ask for peace on Sunday mornings in my bedroom?
“Shush… no blood, guys! Play nice.”
“But she broke my Spider-Man!”
“I don’t caaaaare!” * throwing my pillow at them *
- Honesty. Be able to look our kids in the eyes and say: “No, there’s no Santa, there never was. It’s just your dad and me, so you’d better behave if you want to find something under the tree at the end of the week. I’m gonna count to 3, so you’d better behave. Right. Now. 1, 2, 2 and ½ …”
- Nicer drug dealers. By dealers we mean kids and by drugs we mean kisses and hugs. Because those are our drugs, no matter how crazy these little monsters drive us. And as they get older, it’s becoming more and more difficult to get our fix. But we still need them as much as we needed them on day one, can’t keep going without them, we’re going through withdrawal, don’t you get it, dammit? Gimme my dose! Now.