All I want for Christmas, is you!
Sorry, Mariah has taken over my brain this week.
But hold on! Before Mrs Claus guts me for her next season of snow wear, I really do have something I’d like for Christmas. (And by something, I mean a few things… You’re used to this by now.) But these aren’t your run of the mill seasonal must have toy’s, no these things will require you to use your real magic, so much so I reckon you may need to leave a reindeer behind this year as there just won’t be enough magic dust to spread around.
Now, now, don’t let that frighten you off. You see Mummy has been a bloody fan-fuckin-tastic girl this year, I truly deserve Rudolf’s sprinkle of magic powder (oi,oi!) . I’ve had to listen to tiny creatures moan, wail, and hit me all year, and I know you have your fair share of moaning tiny elves, but you haven’t had to poop them out of your arsehole, destroying it in the process, so I think you will agree that I win here.
It’s not too much, all I really would like is…
- One un-nocturnal child…
Just one. ONE! That’s all I’m asking! If I have to go another year, downing redbull, and living off a few hours’ sleep, I don’t think I will survive. This isn’t even a want, It’s a need! I’ve used three exclamation marks in this paragraph alone, that’s how much I need this! (See, now it’s four.)
I don’t care how you do it; the sand man’s sleeping sand, magic dust, sedatives or a mallet. Just please, let one of them sleeeeeeeeepppp!
- Talking of vagina’s….
Can I have a new one, or just the old one that I had? Either that or you’re gonna have to widen my poor husband’s penis so he can stop lying that ‘it feels the same’.
- A food item that my child isn’t allergic too…
And preferably has all the daily nutrients he needs in one bite. That is also in the shape of a chip which has been deep friend within an inch of its life.
- Erase the mummy worry…
I’m losing my hair here Santa, and unfortunately my alien/lightbulb shaped head is not pulling this off! (I’m not painting myself in a good light). I didn’t realise that as your children get older the worry gets worse. It’s no longer worrying if that shit was the right colour in their nappy, but more are they being picked on at school!
Now, I understand we all need to worry about our children in order to keep them safe, but when worrying becomes unnecessary, like that time when I fretted that my child intestines were being eaten alive by a parasite when he developed worms, is basically just taking the piss.
Whatever you can do to relieve the mum worry would be lovely.
And last, but definitely not least…
- An actual happy new year.
Each bloody year I think this one will be brilliant, a new start! And then the next day I wake up to a screaming child and a stinking mood.
It’s been almost five years now, I think I’ve suffered enough carrying Dickweed Depression and Aggie Anxiety around with me, so do me a favour? Pick them up on your way to the North Pole and drop them down a frozen cave. Help me grab 2017 by the balls and begin to be happy with the little imperfectly perfect life I have.