Yes, I know you’re not real. I have paid the shopping bill and swore at the elusive end of the sellotape enough times to know that its all on me but just for once, I am trusting, in the same way that millions of children do every year, in the power of something bigger than myself and I am writing to you with a few requests.
You see, I definitely belong on the good list. I have tried my very best all year to be the best mum, partner, daughter, sister, and friend that I can be. On top of that I have been a counsellor, taxi and arse wiper (not to my friends may I add, just my son!) and yes, I have drank one or two too many gins but honesty, if you lost your child’s ear and his eye fell out as often and randomly as mine, wouldn’t you be drinking?!
Anyway, the thing is Santa, this year I don’t want material things for Chrismas. I want the people I care for to be happy and healthy. I want to see all their dreams come true and their plans unfold as they hope they will. I want my sisters baby to be healthy and sleep well (I ordered two of those by the way and didn’t even get one! ) I want my brother to find some peace and happiness. I want the world for my mum who does so much for everyone else and always puts herself last.
For my boys I want them to feel happy in their skin and to be as proud of the men they are becoming as I am of them every day. I want Oliver to continue his passion for fitness and realise just how bloody handsome he is! I want Harry to carry on playing his music. I know it will bring my Nan close to the boy she loved. I want my step-children to find happiness in their friendships and success in the studies and passions that they work so hard at.
I want Andrew not to worry about things (If there is a pill for that can I order some for myself too please) and I would love you to present us with opportunities to enjoy life together on our shoestring budget.
I guess for myself, I want you to remind me from time to time to check in on the friends who mean so much to me. To actually catch up with them and finally send the messages that I all too often write in my head but forget to send. I want you to help me find time for myself and my own mental and physical health. You seem like a jolly fella who is pretty self-assured and confident on the days when I see you (or is that just the mulled wine?). I’d love a self-belief infusion please or a magic mirror that I can see myself in, the way that others see me (if it could knock 15lbs off too that would be wicked!) so that I can continue to build a business for myself and my family.
On a more practical note, I’d also love some privacy in the bathroom if you are able to influence the thinking of my kids who absolutely NEED to talk to me the minute my bum touches the toilet seat and if there’s such thing as mature cheddar cheese that makes you skinny then I’ll be in your debt forever.
I hope this letter finds you well and that you consider my requests. I would love to say that I’d leave you a mince pie and some gin out but in all honesty, I’ll be eating it myself and wishing a very Merry Christmas to all the other parents doing the same thing!
Charlene Yvonne Beswick, Aged 40, Stoke on Trent xxx
Just to explain this letter better you may also want to read…
7 things I never thought I’d say as a mum