Rowan Jetté Knox

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Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

It's me, The Maven. Remember me? You know, the pretty one? Doesn't ring a bell, huh? Weird. The last time we saw each other was at the workshop Mrs. Claus hosted on what to do with your elderly reindeer. I was the one who suggested putting them in stew. Did you see how fast I ducked the flying chair you threw at me? I may be insensitive, but I'm quick!

Oh, that Maven. Yes, that's the one. But I've turned over a new leaf this year, Santa. I'm a different sort of Maven. For one, I'm a vegetarian now. That's right: a non-meat eater. My stew is reindeer-free. When I take a walk in the country I'm surrounded by forest critters who break into song with me. It's a wonderful way of life, and I think it should put me squarely on your "nice" list.

But just in case, there are other things I've done this year to earn my place in your good graces. I house trained a dog. By "I", I mean my husband, the vet who cut off his pair of wonkers, and me. But whatever. It was my idea to get the dog, so I get to take credit. I'm the nice one.

I made new friends, which has allowed them to experience the wonder of me. My social calendar was already bursting at the seams (do calendars have seams?) and yet I allowed more people into my inner circle so that they may feel the joy of knowing me. What better gift to give?

I watched a lot of documentaries about electric cars and fair trade coffee and how big industry makes the trees cry. That brought me to a new level of consciousness, which helped the greater good. Now I know more than many of my friends and I can look down on them as I lecture. Guilt is a gift that keeps on giving.

And look: I'm writing even though I've been suffering from major writer's block, bringing good tiding and insight to the masses! Thankfully Laurie from Not Just About Cancer recognized my need for some writing therapy and sent me an amazing book. Thanks again, Laurie. Internet stalking is a great ability and she put it to good use, so I'm sure she'll be rewarded not only by more blog posts but by that warm feeling of knowing she's spread the joy to others. Well, and maybe I'll buy her a coffee or something.

... Oh, wait. Sorry, Santa. This isn't about Laurie. It's about me. Me, me, me and how great I am and how I deserve lots of prezzies. Focus, big guy. Back to The Maven.

Good job.

So what does a Maven want under the tree this year? I've compiled a short list for you:

  • 25 hours in a day (I would split the extra hour equally between catching up on laundry and sleep)
  • The ability to sit down without having a toddler climb up on my lap and say "Oh! Hi, mom. I want some mommy's milk right now." To which I reply "When do you get mommy's milk, Spawnling?" To which he replies "At bedtime." "Is it bedtime, Spawnling?" "No, it's not. Okay, mom." Then he starts to climb off, changes his mind and promptly dives a hand into my shirt while saying "Mommy's milk right noooowwww!"
  • Headphones that play music loud enough that I don't hear any happy/angry screaming, but I do hear hurt screaming. That could save me a neglect lawsuit.
  • Self-cleaning floors, please.
  • I would like the Prime Minister to declare at-home parenting a government job and start paying me. Benefits and a pension would be pretty sweet too, thanks. Perhaps a witty personal assistant, too?
  • A baby I don't have to give birth to or stay up all night with or nurse ever two hours. She - hey, we're wishing here, right? It's a wish list? Now shush up - she would show up in a basket at my front door. She would probably be about three years old and sleeping through the night and be very quiet and pleasant. Oh, and if the rest of the basket could be filled with money I would like that very much.
It's not like I'm asking for a lot, here. Just a few things to get me through the year with the strand of sanity I have left intact. In return I promise to be an even better girl next year and fill the world with more Maven-y goodness.

Now pony up or Blitzen's being schnitzelled.

Lovingly,
The Maven