Dear Santa: A Wishlist for the Special Needs Mom

Dear Santa,

Everyone tells me that I have been very good this year. They say they “don’t know how I do it.” They say I’m “amazing.” I think I was even called “inspirational” once.

I don’t believe them, of course. I think I’m a pretty bad mom a lot of the time. I’m too tired to be much fun, I raise my voice sometimes, and I feel sorry for myself when I should be looking for the joy.

But, if you could find it in your heart to split the difference, and classify me as an OK-enough-to-get-a-small-gift-mom, I would be ever so thankful.

Here is my wishlist for you to pick from:

1. I would like to be able to keep the bubble bath and shampoo in the bathroom.
   
   It’s annoying to run to the laundry room and fetch it off the top shelf every time I bathe the kids, but you know it is a necessary annoyance.
   
   I don’t want to clean up a room full of bubbles (again), or buy kid shampoo twice in two days (again). And of course, there is the ever-present safety concern. Why do all kids’ shampoos smell like fruit or candy, Santa? That’s just (another) call to Poison Control waiting to happen.
   
   While we are on the subject, Santa, I also wish:
   
   1.b. that inedible things did not smell like edible things, and
   
   1.c. that edible things would smell like something my child would actually want to eat.
   
   
   
2. I would like to not have pantry food in my bedroom.
   
   Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t need a pantry. I have one of those. I would just like to be able to keep food in it.
   
   When I imagined my dream home as a little girl, I kinda pictured a jewelry armoire in the closet, not a mini-fridge and a mini pantry. But, safety and sanity first, I guess.
   
   I’m sure you remember seeing the unplanned sensory session with the spaghetti noodles, the cake flour, and the cooking oil. To say nothing of the time an entire week’s worth of applesauce was eaten in 2 minutes. That was a crap-tastrophe.
   
   If you could bring me a pantry lock that not even a master safe-cracker can get into, I would be grateful forever.
   
   
   
3. I would like to not have medications and vitamins in my bedroom.
   
   It’s getting a little crowded in here with all of the other off-limits items.
   
   I do already own a medicine cabinet, so if I could just get the confidence from you to use it…
   
   On second thought Santa, no thank you.
   
   I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to give this one up. The risk is just too high.
   
   
   
4. I would like my kid to eat a vegetable.
   
   Any vegetable will do. I’m not picky.
   
   I know this is a really big one, Santa, so up to 12 months for delivery is ok with me. Or maybe you could make it a combined gift for me and our nutritionist?
   
   
   
5. I would like people to stop calling me “amazing.”
   
   You see Santa, I know they mean well, but I think they have the wrong idea about me.
   
   I’m just a normal mom. A very tired mom. A mom with an extra challenge. A mom who could use a hand now and then.
   
   But somewhere along the way, people started calling me amazing, and I’m beginning to see that means they think I’m super-human. They seem to think I am better suited to doing it all and surviving than the average mom, but I am not.
   
   I’m just a typical mom, trying to navigate an atypical situation, and I could use some help. Could you help people see that?
   
   I don’t want to be amazing anymore.

Thank you for your consideration Santa. Please say hello to Mrs. Claus, the reindeer, and every hard-working elf on the toy floor. Let them know that I see them.

Sincerely, A Special Needs Mom

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