Single Mom Survival Guide: My Letter to Santa

Dear Santa, I am writing to request that you send some holiday cheer (i.e., kindness and pity) to a tired, overworked single mom this year. I have been very good all year long! (Ok, ok...I really haven't been that great, but based on the behavior of my children and co-workers alone, I think I'm still in the running.)

If you would be so kind, please bring me the following (wrapped and topped with a big red bow is optional, but would be a nice touch):

A big delicious bottle of Bailey's (i.e., Mommy's "chocolate milk"). You know, the one with a handle that requires a shopping cart at the liquor store. I promise to only use it medicinally.

72 hours of uninterrupted sleep. The only physical and mental recuperation appropriate for me at this time needs to mimic hibernation. During this time, I plan to wear my most hideous sweatsuit with legs unshaven and face void of makeup, curled in the fetal position on my sofa under a heavy blanket spooning my TV remote. I know babysitting my children for the weekend is a lot to ask, but I am not opposed to you assigning them to hard, manual "elf" labor. Trust me, they deserve it.

A man. A handsome, single, attractive man who loves me, my children and my creepy collection of Christmas nutcrackers. A man who finds my small, filthy, toy-ridden home "charming." A man who's sensitive but strong, and enjoys me bossing him around from time to time. A man whose hobbies include vacuuming, small home improvement projects, cleaning toilets and car-pooling. A man with the libido of a twenty year old, despite roaming the hallways all night tending to crying babies, requests for water, and middle of the night bathroom runs. (Please note: I will gladly substitute a maid and a one-night stand for the gentleman referenced above. Come to think of it, I think I would prefer the maid and the one-night stand. I don't have the strength to be witty and full of enthralling conversation most days.)

Thanks so much for your abundance of goodwill and joy. You're the man. Seriously, I mean it.

Sincerely, Missy xoxo