Dear Santa, an open letter from Mom

Dear Santa,

Let me explain.

It’s been a long year with a 1-year-old. Mostly fun, but I’m starting to see those terrible twos come out.

My son has been wonderful and as much as I am sure he’s on the nice list, I’m sure his parents are not.

We have seen you twice this season before the big 24th and last time went great. The second time not so much and I apologize.

You see, we left the house to come to the daycare Christmas party. At the house, I dressed him in the cutest Grinch Christmas pajamas with a dry diaper.

It wasn’t until we got out of the car at daycare that I realized we didn’t have any extra diapers in the bag.

Now at this point, the diaper is dry, so I’m hoping we will be okay until after your meeting. Although he’s had 2 cups of juice before we left the house.

We get our punch and cookies and enjoy them. When my baby finished I asked him if he had to go pee because we’ve been paying attention to having to use the potty, but we’re not there yet. I take him out to the bathroom because he acknowledged that he had to go.

As we get to the bathroom, it’s occupied. So we waited a few minutes until we heard that the kids were about to start singing Christmas carols. Being a new Mom I got excited and wanted to see my child’s first performance. I said, “We’ll come back after you sing.”

This was where I went wrong.

All the little kids got together and sang their 2 Christmas carols and Happy Birthday to Jesus. From there they went right over to the Christmas tree to wait for your arrival. I had told the Daycare Manager that I would photograph the kids with Santa because that’s just who I am.

New photographer. Do-gooder. New Mom. I want everyone to have pictures of their kids. I did this to myself.

So I’ve got my camera and my kid is sitting so perfectly and cute with all the other kiddos waiting for his name to be called to see you, Santa.

I start taking pictures of the kids with you. A few minutes later I hear my son ask for his Dad, so we both find him among the group and he runs over to him. I’m hoping he’s going to take him to the bathroom.

Over the next couple of kids, I no longer see my family and hope that his Dad took him to pee.

A little bit later my kid comes up to me no longer wearing his Grinchmas pants, but the black pair I had in the diaper bag in case we need a change of clothes.

As he’s standing at my feet I notice he’s doing some kind of little dance. With his two fists full of cookies. I squat down and pat his butt, “Do you have a diaper on?”

He looks at me and this little grin comes across his face and turns into a laugh. A laugh with a mouth full of cookies.

He’s freeballing… My kid is freeballing and about to sit on your lap.

His name gets called and his Dad helps him up on your lap so I can take pictures. He still has both hands full of cookies. I’m not sure what you said, but I see him offer you a slobbery half-eaten cookie.

I’m panicking in my head, hoping to the sweet baby Jesus he doesn’t pee on your leg.

This is probably the longest minute of my life.

I. Am. So. Sorry.

I don’t know what you’re still talking to him about, but if you knew he was only wearing skin under those pants you would wrap it up.

I realize you’ve probably put us on the naughty list for this. I don’t blame you.

You let him down and he comes running over to me. I immediately check his pants. They’re dry, shew… Thank you sweet baby Jesus.

Yes, I let my child freeball on your knee. It won’t happen again…

Hopefully.

Okay, no promises there. He is a boy.

I’ll see my punishment as the Elf on the Shelf that you’ll send to my house next year. That I’ll have to remember every night. And for the next ten years. And come up with many ideas for this magical elf, when I’m barely able to come up with creative ideas for dinner.

It was good to see you again.

Merry Christmas.

R’s Mama