Dear Santa, please can our baby go to sleep now. Its very late and you’ll be here soon. Thank you and Merry Christmas (24 December, 23:21)
Dear Santa, thank you for helping baby fall asleep by midnight. It was touch and go there for a moment but he succumbed just before the midnight bells. If I’d thought ahead I’d have asked you to stop him from dropping the two glass dishes on the floor but hey, what’s Christmas about if not being on your hands and knees hoovering up the tiny sharp splinters. Anyway, we’re off for a week. What could go wrong? Will keep you posted. MC dude (25 December, 09:54)
Dear Santa, it was great that baby got to bed normal time on Christmas Day, thanks for that. But you were just fucking with us weren’t you? False sense of security and all that. That he now needs to put his toys to bed as well, well that was a moment of genius on your part. Not only do we have to get a recalcitrant toddler to bed, we also have to get a Lego Stormtroopers alarm clock; two plastic safari dudes and their vehicles; and a wooden fire engine with two firemen, a woman who frankly doesn’t really look like she needs saving from any kind of fire but that seems to be her lot in life, and the fucking fire station cat to bed as well. How complicated is it to put a bunch of toys to bed? Very complicated. Very very complicated. I had no idea until two days ago just how complicated it was and how precise putting toys to bed has to be. Or how long it would take. Or what the penalties would be for trying to put them to sleep in the wrong place. I have learned so much more about the intricacies of parenting this Christmas. Thank you! PS, the five hour journey home yesterday was fun. Having the tablet strapped to the back of the passenger seat was a life saver. Unfortunately I forgot to actually download the other movies so I think we’ve now listened to The Muppets Take Manhattan five or six times. Won’t make that mistake again. Take care dude (28 December, 21:54)
Dear Santa, It’s almost twelfth night so I guess it’s time to wrap up this whole Christmas thing. Of all the things I didn’t actually ask for but really wanted, to have my son be a crazy Star Wars and Muppets fan was way high up the list (Lego imperial shuttle is still there too). it was a wise person once said be careful what you wish for you just might get it…
Thinking the Star Wars episode of the Muppet Show, conveniently appearing as a special feature on my Best of The Muppet Show dvd, was the best of all worlds was at the time a stroke of genius. Then very quickly Moo decided he didn’t want the whole show, just the Star Wars moments. Then just the end when Chewie appears. Over and over again. The mantra: Da Wahs Da Wahs over and over again whilst a remote is waved at me requiring the sequence to be replayed. Six, seven times. It should be noted that Da Wahs is the first time he’s strung two words together (hooray…)
I find my patience, and my love of Star Wars and The Muppets becoming severely tested. And then we reach bed time. Da Wahs. No baby, bed time. Da Wahs. No baby, bed time. Da Wahs. Da Wahs. Da Wahs. Remote gets waved. Then thrown. DA WAHS. KafrigginBOOM. Meltdown. Total meltdown. Nothing else will do, nothing else is going to happen. We have rage, we have tears, we have screaming sobbing pleading. And that’s the parents. This is now a curse, to be repeated again and again and again.
Thank you Santa, I got what I most wanted and if things keep going the dvd player is going out the fucking window. It’s been fun, see you in twelve x (4 January, 22:12)