Dear Santa,

Sup big guy, it’s me, Lindsey. I know you probably are wondering why a grown woman is writing you a letter asking for something special for Christmas, but it’s happening, get on board, tuck in, and listen, k? Aight.

So, I need to ask for something special this year for Christmas. No, it’s not another Keurig, or a gift card to Starbucks (although, I’d totes appreciate one if you wanted to throw it in my stocking), but something that I really need to function on a daily basis. Patience. Yup, Patience.

I need me a heaping amount of patience that can sustain me til maybe next Christmas when I can ask for it again…will that fit in your bag? I’ll take any amount you can give me, because my tank is running on EMPTAY.

I notice that my main moments of frustration throughout the day are caused by my lack of patience with my kids, my self, my dog, basically anything that moves. It is messing with my ability to enjoy just about anything; for example. We were decorating the tree last week, cuz my husband loves me and lets me decorate the moment Thanksgiving is over, and the toddler was so excited about the Christmas lights he wouldn’t stop shaking them as I was trying to wrap the tree in lights. Of course he was excited, he’s never seen Christmas lights before nor does he remember the weird tradition of a tree magically appearing in his living room from last year. Did I take a moment and let him enjoy these fun twinkly strings of delight? Nope, I got grumpy because my 23 month old wasn’t acting like a responsible person who knows that shaking lights will break them…duh, that was stupid.

My toddler is a very energetic, spirited, curious, and adventurous little guy. He’s a guy who likes to maybe throw his food on the ground and watch the dog scamper to eat it. He’s a guy who likes to jump from the arm of the couch onto the pillows 54 times in a row. He’s a guy who likes to run circles around the house. He’s a guy who likes to sneakily steal his sisters paci’s. He’s a guy who likes to play in mud and dirt and explore the earth. He’s fun, I need this patience Santa so I don’t take away the twinkle in his eyes and make him “unfun”. He already has a really short fuse and frustrates easily…don’t let me be the instigator to these outburst by him seeing my own lack of “chill factor”.

So, in conclusion fatty, it’s really simple. Please send down a dose of parental patience so I can stop missing out on all of the fun things tiny one is asking me to experience with him. Like more laundry basket races and games of hide and go seek where he just lays under the tables and says “again” when you find him. Oh…and don’t forget that starbucks gift card…or dunkin donuts…im not too picky.

Thanks boo,

Lindsey