Warning: There is discussion of Elfs on the Shelf in this article that may not be suitable for all readers. Please use discretion.
As a mom, I begin fielding questions about what my family wants for Christmas sometime before Halloween. These requests come from thoughtful people who love us and want to get us things we will enjoy. The problem is—I’m also trying to figure out what to get my family for Christmas—as well as what to get the folks asking me these questions. I also need to decide what to get my December birthday daughter and the January birthday daughter and the class gift exchange for multiple kids, teacher gifts, neighbor gifts, and assorted and sundry other folks I am charged with choosing gifts for each year.
So, one thing I would love as a gift would be to not have to answer quite so many questions about gifts. Because the hardest part is not wrapping or finding the gifts—it’s deciding what to get. Plus—the stuff I really want can’t be easily wrapped. (If you think this is the part where I, sanctimoniously, say all I really want is world peace—then you don’t know me.)
Many of the things I really wish for feel a little lazy or a lot selfish and I wanted to see if I was alone in this. So, I texted almost 50 other moms asking them what they wanted for Christmas, literally and figuratively. With the promise of anonymity in place—the wish lists started rolling in. These are hysterical and heartbreaking, some are a bit dark, but all are incredibly affirming to me as a mom in 2020. While this isn’t as cute as the Northside Sun’s Santa Letters from second graders—it’s equally as honest.
Christmas Wish List
of the Moms of 2020:
Bethany (not her real name, none of them are) and 66% of the mothers I texted (myself included) want the Elf on the Shelf to die. They didn’t all put it quite so bluntly, but I don’t think any of them care how it happens. They just want him gone. All the Elfs on all the Shelfs, in all the land—magicked away to the North Pole forever.
One friend pointed out how detrimental they can be to the ‘magic’ of the season. Jolly old Saint Nick has a long and storied history that is beloved the world over—but now we throw a plush and plastic toy that flies away to the North Pole every night in the mix? Well, except for the nights that he ‘doesn’t go’ and we don’t have a consensus on why that sometimes happens, nor do we have a consensus on what these darn elves are supposed to do—which is confusing to kids hearing all about their friends’ elves shenanigans.
Over-achiever elves give gifts and zipline from the fridge to an obstacle course made of marshmallows and peppermint sticks, landing in a cup of hot cocoa. Some elves, like mine, don’t do much more than move around the house and those of us with slacker-elves think the rest of y’all’s elves need to chill out. And to any and all young families who haven’t received their elf yet—tell Santa ‘no thanks.’
I lost count of how many people wished for the death of GroupMe, as well. I dedicated a whole article to GroupMe rules—so I feel this, deeply. Some people wished GroupMe users would use more common sense, then there’s Sharon who said all she wants for Christmas is Botox and for GroupMe to freaking go away—or something close to that.
Cassandra asked, “For people to stop using ‘this is how we’ve always done it’ as an excuse anymore, if nothing else—2020 has taught us that adapting is essential.” Millie just wants to be able to have weekend plans and wear lipstick again, while one friend told me she wants to be able to be open about her sexual identity without risking relationships she loves. And another friend wants to get her eyebrows threaded without getting COVID and to see her out-of-town family again. I hope nobody buys these women socks.
Karie wants an end to extreme partisanship, a return to civility, the ability to have a rager of a 40th birthday party with all her friends, and a new tennis racket. But she noted, “I’ll probably only get the tennis racket so maybe I’ll ask for enough Botox to deal with the extreme partisanship and civil unrest.” Karie is also, “Totally over elf-staging, also—I want a real day off.” Amen, my friend not-really-named Karie, Amen.
Breanna wants more kitchen storage, no more masks, and over the top birthday parties and the social media posts that document them to stop immediately. She wants birthdays and Christmas to look like 1985 and social media and the Elf on the Shelf to just disappear. Lucy, another Elf-eradicator hopeful, wishes a decorating fairy would arrive in time to take down her Christmas décor, for wine to not have calories, her crêpe-y skin to become smooth, people to be less judgmental and quit projecting their own stuff on other people, and for those hot chocolate bombs to not be so damn hard to find.
Louise wants to go on a nice vacation—alone. Her husband can come for a few days at the end after he’s bought her the brown suede belt she asked for because he’s finally figured out that she has one love language—gifts. She’s been pretty clear about this over the years. Louise also wants her son to awake one morning with all the knowledge she did not successfully teach him when she was his quarantine teacher, and for her teenaged daughter to realize they have rules because they love her and not because they are, ‘the strictest parents ever.’ Also, she would be okay if Santa wanted to take her husband’s dog with him. I’ve seen the dog—my money is on the belt.
Mary, Martha, and Mamie all want their kids to just stop fighting. Stop fighting before school in the morning, stop fighting over the front seat, stop fighting over cleaning up their junk. Just stop. Mamie wants her kids to want the same thing for breakfast just once, and Martha wants swimming headphones that don’t take a computer science degree to use. She’d also like a nativity that displays the appropriate ethnicity of the people who would have lived in 1st century Jerusalem and for all the ones that don’t to go the same way as the Elf on the Shelf and GroupMe. She wants to magically be clean after a workout because you shouldn’t have to do all that work and then also go through the hassle of getting dressed. Amen to that.
Speaking of Christmas, Mary would like everyone to stop singing, ‘Mary, Did You Know?’ Mary wants to point out that, yes, in fact, the Mary in the Bible did know. If you are unclear about this please check out Luke 1:46-55, also referred to as ‘Mary’s Magnificat’ a very clear explanation of ALL the things Mary did know, for sure. So, we can stop asking her in song. She knew.
Two different friends want their streets fixed for the love of their tires. One mom/teacher wants a trip to a private island with an unlimited supply of alcohol, and Lord knows they all deserve it this year. Janet wants her spouse to throw away something—anything—and for spammers to stop calling her cell phone. Deena wishes for her kids to not have to wear masks anymore because COVID is gone—another common theme in the responses. Vicky wants a cozy blanket her family can’t steal from her, “ear pods that actually work, for people to stop being dumb on GroupMe, and for everyone to stop posting their Santa set-ups on social media.” It is bonkers to me that fake-Vicky was one of four to ask that people stop it with the social media-Santa-bragging—because that’s what it is and if you think otherwise then you are fooling yourself and you need to delete that post right now.
‘Death to dress-up days!’ This was a common request and yet—I’m pretty sure most schools in the metro area have anywhere from 1-5 dress-up days on their schedule for the last couple weeks of school. Exactly zero mothers that I texted asked for more dress-up days, none, nada, nobody. As Marsha pointed out, not having dress-up days or weekly ‘spirit dress days’ was one of quarantine’s few redeeming qualities and she is not wrong.
I loved the honesty and heart of my friend who wished for, ‘enough money to pay off the remainder of what’s owed for those who are finalizing adoptions—and some leftover to get myself a little lipo.’ And the vulnerability of the friend who just wants to bear-hug her immune-compromised dad for the first time in a year.
Several people requested ‘someone to organize my life/house’ and I’d like to add that I want someone to purge, pack, unpack, and organize my house when we move. And I don’t mean someone to come and ‘help’ me. I mean I want it to be like Bewitched up in here—a little nose twitching and it’s done.
Rosemary wants the metabolism she had at 18 and for everyone to treat each other like the bakers on Great British Bake Off, while Caroline said she wishes everybody was the same person in carpool line that they pretend to be in church. Rosemary, Sarah and Jennifer all want the hand-washing, grocery cart-sanitizing, and ticketed, timed, and limited access to Santa (and other non-Christmas events) to stick around post-COVID. Jennifer likes the encouragement to be anti-social that has come with COVID and wants to keep that as much as Sarah wants to continue the whole ‘not inviting every parent in the class to come watch their kids eat chicken nuggets’ thing. Sarah also wants the Grinch to sneak in everyone’s homes to steal our REPLY ALL buttons. Brilliant.
All Heather and Leigh want for Christmas is for people to stop being so judgmental towards those who are taking COVID seriously and forgoing events and gatherings. Heather said, “I want making healthy and good decisions for my children to not make them look like weirdos and feel left out.”
But the #1 Christmas wish of the moms of 2020 is a break. Just a dadgum break. Some asked for 24 hours with no talking, a teacher wished for a screen-free, decompression chamber stocked with wine and zero people asking her questions. One mom said, “I wish for 48 hours of complete ‘me time,’ locked in my room with Netflix and Waitr. No cooking, no cleaning, no carpooling, no looking for socks, or clothes, no taking the dog out, no endless/pointless kid discussions…just complete me time. And after rereading what I just typed—I think I just described symptom-free COVID.”
What does it say about the state of modern motherhood that being quarantined with COVID sounds like a vacation? Obviously, my friend isn’t wishing for COVID, but her request isn’t that different than another friend who asked for, “A weekend alone in a well-appointed mountain cabin where I can sleep alone, go for hikes, and read whatever I want without being interrupted 1000 times.” And that isn’t that far off from, “My legit Christmas wish is to build an outdoor room so I have somewhere to escape my family…Last year I asked for one-night at a local hotel, alone—silly husband thought I was joking. Maybe this year?” Or, “I’d love to say I want peace on earth, which I do, but honestly—what I want most is a break. A real break from work, family, stress, dress-up days, extra stuff. A day or two to do whatever I want—or nothing. A day totally off the grid.”
This year has been hard on everyone, parent or not, please don’t get me wrong. But everything that is hard for me right now—is because I am a mom, so that’s where my mind is. If there’s a mom whose Christmas you are a part of as her spouse, kid, sibling—whatever—consider not asking her what she wants for Christmas or to help you figure out what to get her kids.
Obviously, all moms are different, but I think a lot of us feel raw and wrung out from the quarantine and the constant risk-benefit analysis required to raise children in the middle of a pandemic. A trip to a private island may not be within reach, but during a year that has been heavier than most in more ways than one—even just taking something off someone’s plate feels like a gift. Taking the Elf off the Shelf or the ‘me’ out of GroupMe would feel like a Christmas miracle! But we’ll settle for a silent night. Or two.
