My letter to Santa


Dear Santa

I’ve been a good girl so please may I have my Christmas wishes.

Number 1 ,

Is a cure for Rett syndrome I have lost too much to this devastating condition please pack the cure into your big red sack.

Number 2,

Please Santa let the world know that parents of children with special needs know what’s best for their children. Take away the ignorance of the world and give them the voices they need to be heard.

Number 3

Santa I wish for health and happiness for my family and friends. I am blessed to have some incredible people in my life. Happiness and health for all pretty please.

Number 4

This may sound like a speech from Miss World but Santa peace for the world would be really nice. Let us all learn to respect each other, let the wars end and the brave men and woman in our forces come home safe to their families waiting for them.

Now dear Santa I know I’ve asked for quite a lot but my fifth and final wish is simply this

Number 5

Sleep, my bed and I haven’t been seeing as much of each other as I would like. Please send me some peaceful nights sleep

So Santa here is my Christmas list.

Many thanks in anticipation

Sara xx

Santa stories

Ok it’s that time of year again when we cannot avoid mentioning the man in the big red coat and hair all white.

Yes that right a week today Santa will be coming to visit us all.

Now I love Christmas but with two teenagers and two pre-teens the magical essence is beginning to wear off slightly.

In fact the horrible creatures are actually spoiling it for me.

It seems its uncool to sing carols anymore.

It is super uncool to wear tinsel in your hair and when I suggested a visit to Santa’s grotto they pretty much wet themselves. Did I mention they were horrid children!

So it’s back to my memories I go to my very first Santa visit with my first born. To be honest she was only 6 months old and I may have been just a little presumptuous taking her but visiting the local city and checking out the fantastic grottos of John Lewis and Rackhems. I had some of my most special childhood memories made there and of course like any loving mother ( yeah I know sick bucket required) I was desperate for my child to feel that magic and have wonderful memories of their own.


So there he was Santa dressed in all his Christmas finery open armed to receive on to his lap this beautiful chubby six month old angel. He is holding her close posing for the perfect photo, all the parents in line gushing about how cute she looks when disaster strikes, that cute adorable little girl takes hold of Santa’s beard and with a vice like grip yanks that beard with all her might. Letting the whole world, ok maybe just the line of waiting children know that Santa is in fact a clean shaved twenty something year old.

Oh my the shame, the tears, the tears. A line of children sobbing into their parents arms “Santa isn’t real” “Santa isn’t old”, “mommy that isn’t “Santa”.

It was certainly one of those moments when you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

I also wish the whole episode ended there but the adorable six month angel/devil refused to let go of Santa’s beard for at least 5 minutes more and eventually had to be bribed with chocolate buttons (bad mother i know)

And as she reached for those buttons I’m ashamed to say she did so with a handful of white pretend beard hair.

Oh the joys of parenthood.

Anyway please tell me I’m not the only one who has experience grotto nightmares.

I mean two years ago my youngest when asked by Santa what she wanted for Christmas replied “you know what Santa I don’t think you are real but my friends and I are going to play along for our moms ok”.

My 2nd oldest once informed the man in the red coat she was just covering all the bases. And that she had also asked Santa for something that wasn’t on her list, if she got it then she would know he was real if not oh well.

The joys of Christmas

As for dodgy looking Santa’s check my hubby stepping in to play the role when our own Father Christmas got stuck in a snow drift.


I love Christmas

Bye bye Santa

Ok I’m devastated I’ve tried for the last 15 years to bring Santa to life in my home.

The eaten mince pie

The empty glass of milk

The half eaten carrot


Each Christmas eve we have gone through the ritual of being Santa just to hear the excited screams of “he’s been , he’s been “. As they check the empty plate.

This year I’ve been told that’s it’s ok I don’t have to pretend anymore. It seems my ten year old knows the truth.

This has happened twice before as both Kennedy and Eden informed me that Santa isn’t real. Yet for some reason it hurts that little bit more with my youngest. I guess this is where the pretence ends. No more playing along for the younger children the youngest has said enough.

I wonder if they would indulge a old mommy with pretence. Allow me to stay in the illusion that my girls are still babies. That they still believe in wishes and fairy tales.

My eldest is three years off being a woman, where did the time go. It seems like only yesterday I was holding this chubby little new born in my arms.

Time moves on and children grow.

Though this year there will still be a cake for Santa and a carrot for Rudolph. Not for the children but for the poor mom who is struggling to realise her girls are growing up.

Indulge a old woman please.