Dear Santa…love Mom

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SANTA CLAUS
NORTH POLE

Dear Santa,

I know the big day is getting close, so I’m sure you and the elves are crazy busy shopping online, wrapping, and packing the sleigh. I feel your pain Santa…I do!

I want you to know I’ve been a MOSTLY good girl this year. I diligently cared for my husband when he had emergency back surgery and in the following months of his LONG recovery. Santa, he was in terrible pain and (sometimes) very grumpy, but with a lot of prayer, a little wine and weekly therapy we made it through!

DSC_0442-2I also took fabulous care of my children. I took my son back East for a college recruiting trip and we bonded over BPM music, survived a hurricane and slept in crappy hotels. It was awesome! Ok, I might have helped him a little too much on the college applications, (oops!) but I made him pay for the tires he accidentally spiked when he drove through a gated residential entrance. (See Santa…I’m working hard not to enable!)

I’ve also cooked, cleaned, laundered, shopped for, loved, cuddled and cherished every moment with my sweetheart and kids. On my honor, I haven’t missed much church, any games or recitals. I’ve driven Kolby to endless auditions in the hoods of LA and navigated the mean streets of the stage Momster.

DSC_0373Santa, I’ve volunteered at J Serra High School until illness has overtaken me (I lost my voice for 3 weeks!). I’ve worked like a like a dog and sacrificed sleep to these munchkins. I’ve watched 400 freaking episodes of Bernstein Bears, read to my little girl every single night (best part of my day), shopped with my teenagers until I wept from frustration, and I’ve laughed and tickled and cried with each one as life throws its best punches at us.

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Santa, even though I sometimes lose my spit, go a little cray-cray and have to text my therapist and Bible Study gals for extra support, I have managed to show up for work, finish a book, keep the sparks going with my man and love to the best of my ability. I know I’m a little jacked up, far from a typical pastor’s wife (whatever that is), with a broken and old uterus and some social awkwardness to boot, but maybe you could still get me a present? (Hint, hint)

  • MAC Makeup
  • Coach, or Kate Spade Purse
  • Spa Day perhaps? (Optional item if I’ve been really good!)

Thanks Santa! You’re the best! And you look dang sexy in that red hat!

Love, Samantha

The Irreverent Project

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“Hey mom, I need to work on a group project tonight,” grins my seventeen-year-old son sheepishly.

Ding. Ding. Ding.  I suddenly sit up straight at the dinner table.  Oh bad, bad word! I hate group projects with a vengeance.

I think of vacations ruined by supposed “friends” who dumped all their work on my kid, who then dumped all their work on me.  I remember the Palm Springs trip where our entire family stenciled, cut and pasted presidents onto a behemoth poster board instead of frolicking in the pool.

“What is your part?” I inquire with dread.

“I have to make a Vine about Mother Teresa. I need the girls to help. Give me some ideas mom.”

“How about dressing up little Kolby and having her feed a homeless man with leprosy in Calcutta.  Then he can get up and dance.”

My freshman daughter moans, “Mooooom….that is so not funny.”

Kyle strokes his mini-beard deep in thought.  “Its a start mom, but I need to embellish.”

My pride pricked by my daughter’s snarky rejection, I throw up my hands and stomp over to the sofa. “Fine, I’m out. Make sure to finish the dishes when you are done with the video.”

The kids run off.  I hear giggles from the front porch.  Kolby rushes by enveloped in a black tablecloth.  I get bored, give up my mini-fit and end up clearing and washing all the dishes anyway–further confirming my enabling mothering status.

Finally, after an hour plus of filming, I get Kolby ready for bed and tuck her in with stories and kisses.  I hear Kyle downstairs grumbling and editing his masterpiece.

In the morning I ask to view the Vine.

Let me get this straight.  Mother Teresa (aka Kolby) gives wads of cash to a homeless farmer from central Mexico wearing a sombrero.  And then he Whip, Nae, Naes.

It’s so wrong, it’s right.  Irreverent? Stupid? Hillarious? Check, check, check.

Ok, kids…that’s funny.

Of course he get’s an A on the project.  I think even Mother Teresa would laugh at this one.

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