Christmas what?

Mom asked for a Christmas wish list... Uh, really? Santa still delivers to unwed single moms who are about to lose their mind for rapid, anxious thought-racing? I can't even imagine Christmas right now, let alone my first Christmas with a ten-pound pink meatloaf crying because she just wants my boobs and another diaper change, please. I'm supposed to think about what I want? For me? Just for me? Uh, okay. Here's what I'll want in December.

First, I want to blow-dry my hair every day with this... because it gets it dry in 6 minutes, and straightens it in the meanwhile. Not bad for someone whose naturally thick, kinda curly hair currently takes nearly an hour to get dry and managed with her $12 blue Conair mess of a blow dryer.


Then, I want to dress little F. Mae in these for a night out on the town...

And I'll be so nice and cozy in this crazy sweater...

And I'll carry my baby bag, but also this cute new little purse for my own luggage...

And since she's a baby and I'm exhausted, our night out on the town is really just a run to get one of these, which I've been wanting for, oh, 9 months...

Then we'll come home, and she'll change into her Christmas jammies...

And I'll change into mine...

And while she nurses and eventually falls asleep, we'll all watch some of this...

And then I'll go read by my lampside from this fabulous author's new book.

There. The perfect Christmas wish list. Oh, and peace on earth and good will towards all men willing to support their children. (The rest of the men should get something horrid in their stockings, something far worse than coal... Something like... a William Shatner CD, or rotten orange sticks, or William Shatner himself...)