Dear Santa

Books were read and the light turned out. Within seconds, they were asleep. For a moment I contemplated getting my tired body up and dragging myself downstairs to see the husband.

Exhaustion won, I gave myself permission to stay in the bed, and quickly floated off to dreamland. Out like the light.

I was awaken later (I actually don’t know how much later) to husband pulling my leg and sighing in frustration.

“Great!” he grumped.

At 4:30 this morning, Sophie woke me to tell me she was hungry.

I told her to drink some water.

She was still hungry.

Grace rolled over and had to pee.

Here we go again.

Santa, Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is an entire night’s sleep. I want to watch a new episode of Real Housewives first (Atlanta or Bev Hills, please).  I want to fall to sleep in my own bed as the preview for next week begins. I’d like my husband to be so happy that his wife is getting rest that he doesn’t mind another night alone. I don’t want anyone to cough or have to pee or cry from a nightmarer (not a nightmare, a nightmarer) and I’d like to stay that way until at least 10:00 the next morning.

I’ve been a very good girl this year, not to mention good sleep is part of the training plan.

I’d really appreciate it!



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