Christmas Wishes from Mama
By Jennifer Eyre White
For my youngest child, four-year-old Kirby, I hope that Santa somehow manages to bring you what you most want for Christmas, which apparently is a "Bazookelele," which I can only imagine is some unholy melding of weaponry and small stringed instrument. Which would suit you perfectly, my darling.
For my handsome seven-year-old, Ben, I hope that you continue to love opera (thus surprising the hell out of your parents) and find music as deeply satisfying as you do all things vehicular, explosive, and/or having Great Potential for Bodily Harm. And may the Discovery Channel never break your tender heart by cancelling Dirty Jobs or How It's Made. (I do think it would be ok, however, if Sponge Bob disappeared forever from the face of our blessed Earth.)
May both of you, my young sons, find that your aim is true in matters of the toilet and less true when trying to bean each other in the head with small metal cars.
For my oldest child and only daughter, Riley, may you survive the horrors of getting elastic bands on your braces, which distress you deeply and make you feel like a Clydesdale in a severe new bit, and which prevent you from sleeping comfortably and eating and saying your lines in drama class. Speaking of which, may you survive drama class. And for that matter, 8th grade in general.
For my kind and steadfast husband, Kennard, may you continue to find reasons to come home every night after work, even though it's unclear why anyone would. May you remember that without you, we're not a complete family, we're just a harried, grumpy mom and three wild children. Which is pretty much what we are with you, too, but it always seems better when you're around. May you remember how much we all admire you and think that you build really cool stuff, like doghouses.
For my dog Joey, the newest member of our family: May you one day be able to get into that new doghouse Papa built for you, some day when the boys get tired of playing in it. I know you adore those boys, but sometimes you feel like they're everywhere, right? And when the two of them are crammed inside your doghouse, laughing maniacally and making you wonder if they've had their rabies shots or even the most basic of puppy training, the doghouse seems a bit too full and noisy and kind of frightening. Believe me, I know what you're feeling. But I also know that we would be lonely if our houses were too quiet.
And for me: May my house never become too quiet. May the sounds of boys and dogs and daughters asking for help with algebra keep the decibel level right where it should be, which is a little too high for comfort but never in danger of sounding like loneliness.
Wishes from other moms on HavingThreeKids.com:
"I'm looking forward to an amazing 2009, full of lots of changes for my little ones. It's hard to believe all the changes that 2008 brought to us, and that it's already over.
For Mason, I hope you continue to have success with the potty, and carry that proud-feeling with you always.
For Jake, I hope I understand more and more of your words and ideas, and learn what you have been trying to tell me all this time.
For Paige, I know you can't wait to get off your tummy and explore the world. May you learn to cope with all the future frustrations that come with being mobile but too young to know what is dangerous. And while I spend the year whisking you out of harm's way and distracting you from your brothers' choking-hazard toys.
-- Renee, mom to Mason (3.5), Jake (2), and Paige (5 months)
I also hope that my son's educational testing gives us some better tools to help him in school. He is doing OK, but he still needs remediation!