Molly, on the other hand, is a species of child I am completely unfamiliar with: the child who eats mostly anything. Except, of course, what Jack eats. I know. SHOOT ME NOW. 

Move over Eartha! I've been singing my own baby-voiced plea to Santa and it goes a little something like this:

Santa Baby [As Sung By A Very Tired Mom]

Santa baby, slip a foot rub under the tree, for me
Been an awful good mom
Santa baby, and vacuum up the carpet tonight.

Santa baby, a brand new spotless minivan too, light blue
With a DVD player
Santa baby, and scrub down both my bathrooms tonight.

Think of all the sleep I've missed
Think of Time Outs, potty training, sassy-mouthed kids
Next year I could win Mom of the Year
If you'd check off my Christmas list 

Many many Christmases ago, I had a couple dollars in my backpack to shop at my elementary school's Santa's Secret Workshop fund raiser. I remember picking out a pair of what were probably hideous earrings for my mother, and because my parents taught at the school and all the teachers knew me (read: SPOILED ROTTEN), I also remember sitting in the office while a teacher wrapped up my gift and the secretaries cooed over what a nice girl I was, and how excited my mom would be to get these beautiful earrings. And then I remember my mom opening her gift and watching her put them on and feeling so! very! proud! 

This year we're letting the kids give their own gifts. We've hit this sweet spot between They're Old Enough and I'm On Top Of Things, and we've been busy making all sorts of crafty and edible items for the important people in our lives. These are easy projects that I try not to micromanage - it's from the kids, so it should LOOK like it's from the kids, right? I want them to be proud when they hand their grandmother a [ATTN MY MOM: SPOILER ALERT!] warped-looking cinnamon Christmas tree ornament bundled inside yards of wrapping paper and an entire dispenser's worth of tape. (Wrapping might be their favorite part.

It's a statement I agree with WHOLEHEARTEDLY, and not just because one of my kids thinks the food groups consist of Cookies, Cake, Frosted Mini-Wheats, and Apple Juice. No, I would dare to say that feeding the kids is the most annoying part of my job. I could handle the sleep deprivation (possibly because they were half decent sleepers) and the discipline (because for all my moaning they're actually pretty good kids) and icky stuff, like cloth diapering and potty training and cleaning up barf in the middle of the night. But thinking up, preparing, serving and, in my case, throwing out most of three meals a day has GOT to be the lamest part of my job.