Hi. It’s me. I know you haven’t heard from me in a while. Okay, since 1978. I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry about the way things ended between us. That’s partly my fault. I should never have listened to my big brother. After all, he’s the same guy who used to con me out of all my candy cigarettes every Halloween, and he’s the same guy who tried to convince me to take the blame for breaking Mom and Dad’s Fleetwood Mac album.
I never should have stopped sending you letters or visiting you at the mall or leaving you milk and cookies, but here I am, 40 years later asking for your forgiveness….and also for a few other small items that I’m hoping you’ll bring me this Christmas.
15 Things This 40-Something Mom Wants for Christmas
1. A cure for wrinkles Apparently (if the commercials and ads are to be believed) being over 40 is no excuse for crow’s feet and laugh lines. I know you can’t work miracles, but apparently there are a multitude of creams, potions, and serums that can. Unfortunately, many of the good ones cost roughly the equivalent of my kids’ college tuition, so if you could just slip a jar or two of the good stuff into my stocking, that would be awesome.
2. Speaking of the good stuff. Would you please bring me one of those monthly wine subscriptions. On second thought, I have teenagers—better make it weekly.
3. Reading glasses. Lots and lots of reading glasses.
4. An awesome playlist of the newest, hottest music. That way I can learn all the words and sing along with my teenagers when we are driving. Kids love that.
5. I take it back. I would rather have a playlist of all the totally awesome tunes from the 80’s. That way my husband and I can sing and dance around the kitchen to our old jams. Kids really love that.
6. A fun girls’ night out with my friends—eating, drinking, talking, laughing. I want a night to remember—as long as the restaurant is not too loud, and I’m home with my bra off by 7:30.
7. A journal I want to write down all the cute things my kids say like, “Ugh, Mom! You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Or “That’s so unfair! Everyone else’s mother lets them.” This way we can look back on it together someday when my children are parents, and we will laugh and laugh.
8. A self-loading dishwasher. I would just ask you to teach my kids to load it properly, but again, I know you can’t work miracles.
9. Did I mention wine?
10. Driving lessons for my youngest child—because I don’t think there’s enough wine in the world to get me through teaching another kid to drive.
11. Empty nest lessons. Before long I will need to know things like how to prepare a meal for only two people or how to spend an entire weekend without attending a sporting event.
12. More naps.
14. A doctor who doesn’t look like he just started shaving.
15. Better labels than “middle-aged” or “empty-nesters”. Something like Prime Timers or Freedom Finders. I’m sure you can come up with something that sounds cool.
I guess that ought to do it. I’ve missed you a lot, Santa, and I am glad we’re re-connecting. Still, I can’t promise to wait up for you on Christmas Eve, and I tend to stay away from malls this time of year. But now that I’m a grownup, I can promise to upgrade your cookies and milk to cookies and Irish cream!
Mom of a teen? Here’s one more thing you might want to add to your Christmas list this year:
Grown and Flown, the book