Christmas List 2014


Happy Holidays!

As the year ends, I just wanted to say a quick thanks to you readers that read each post, comment on the blog, on Facebook, via email or in-person. I love hearing from you because it’s nice to know that we’re all in this thing together.

I’ve said this before but I mostly write this blog as a way of journaling these *magical* (ahem) years with our young kids. But having you guys say things like, “THIS EXACT THING HAPPENS IN MY HOUSE!” or “YES! I hate when my kids do that, too!” and especially, “You made me laugh today,” makes it so much better. So, thank you.

Also, some people have asked me what my goals are for the blog. The answer is, I don’t have any. I don’t have any long-term plans for this blog; no burning desire to build readership or promote the brand or attract advertisers. NONE. In fact, I pay a small annual fee to keep ads OFF of this page because that would be annoying. I do look at the “site reports” but mostly because I’m fascinated by all the numbers and math and statistics that I don’t understand at all. (Sorry, Tom.)

So, as long as my kids continue to inspire me to write (and I hope they do… sort of?), I hope you will continue to read.

Pretty sure these guys still have plenty of inspiration material in them

Pretty sure these guys still have plenty of inspiration material in them.

And on the note of things I’m hoping for, here is this year’s Grown-Up Christmas List.

Dear Santa…

I think you’re AMAZING. The way you maintain your weight (albeit elevated) despite all those cookies? Super impressive.

We all know you’re pure magic, so I’m hoping you can deliver the following this year:

  • A lice-free existence. (I know this one tops all Moms’ lists, so if you could just banish the whole damn gross lice ordeal, that’d be great.)
  • A year without infections both viral and bacterial, including but not limited to, stomach and bronchial.
  • Math I can handle. (Too hard? I understand.)
  • A cure for “bumpy clothing hurts” syndrome. And I don’t mean 12 sessions with an Occupational Therapist; I mean, like a pill.
  • You know how cabinet-makers invented those drawers that don’t slam shut because they automatically slow down right before they close? I wish for door makers to do the same.
  • An emoji that shows a mom pulling her hair out… how does this not exist yet?
  • No more cilantro anywhere. Ever.
  • To never hear “UNFAIR!” again
  • A sarcasm font (this is not so much a want as it’s a need… I simply can’t communicate well without it.)
  • Bring back Fraggle Rock! Bring back Fraggle Rock!
  • Some basic winter courtesy:
    • No more than three big storms; no more than four inches at a time.
    • The last storm should be no later than Valentine’s Day and I’m going to need clear skies for my vacation travel.
    • After February, temperatures should start to rise (and stay) above freezing.
    • I’ll agree to a jacket throughout early March, but I want to be wearing a light fleece (or a vest would be OK, but I don’t own one… you need to know what works for you and I’m just not a vest kind of girl) by the end of the month.
    • Spring should arrive by April 1 and not a minute later.
  • An end to Happy Dude’s obsession with the word “eyeballs.” It’s inexplicable and really weird and I’d like it to stop.
  • A cure to my kids’ peanut allergies because I would like to start making my world not-really-at-all famous Peanut Butter Balls.
  • Continued good luck that no one has broken a bone playing wrestle baby
    • More wood to knock on because I insist on stupidly saying stuff like that out loud
  • HD embracing a full-night’s sleep in his own bed. Every night. (Rollover item. This one just keeps reappearing every year.)
  • Lastly, I don’t want to nag but I’m still waiting on that hangover-free Margarita I requested in 2012.

Thanks in advance Santa,
xoxo, kmac

Happy New Year everyone … see you in 2015!


My Grown-Up Christmas List


You know that treacly* song called Grown-Up Christmas List where Amy Grant makes completely and totally unrealistic requests of Santa?

If you said no, you are NOT listening to enough Christmas music on the radio. Get in the holiday spirit, Goddammit.

Let me just review Ms. Grant’s wish list for you…

  • No more lives torn apart
  • Wars would never start
  • Time would heal all hearts
  • Everyone would have a friend
  • Right would always win
  • Love would never end


Not even one of these is remotely doable. Does she think Santa is an effing Miracle Worker? Wait, I guess he kind of is. But still, don’t you think she’s putting just a TAD too much pressure on the guy?

Some might argue that Ms. Grant is a bit more selfless than I, (especially given that she is best known for her Christian pop music) but I’m just thinking of Santa here! If I had a direct line to the Big Guy, my list would be completely more reasonable.

Wait. I know where he lives. (“Santa! I KNOW HIM! <– best movie ever. If you can’t immediately identify that line, shame on you. And that’s coming from a girl who’s never seen Caddyshack.)

So with that, I present to you my own Grown-Up [Sort of] Christmas List.


Dear Santa,

My name is Krissy Mac. Perhaps you may remember me from the Willowbrook Mall in Wayne, NJ? Well, that’s going back about [ahem] a lot of years, so I’ll forgive you if you don’t.

I know you’re a busy guy, so let’s get straight to the point. I have been very nice naughty tired this year. Please reward me with the following:

  • A FDA-approved, pediatrician-recommended sleeping pill for kids. It would preferably knock them out around 7:00pm and keep them sleeping soundly until about 7:00am, at which point they would wake up happy, but not TOO chipper because that’s really effing annoying, too.

Side note: I feel compelled to confess that the Loud One and the Nibbit have actually been sleeping later than they ever have before. (Knocking 1,000 pieces of wood.) But as luck or Murphy, would have it, the second they started sleeping past 6:00, Happy Dude decided 5:30 would be a good wake-up time for him. He was all, “I CANNOT BELIEVE I WAS MISSING OUT ON THIS GLORIOUS 90 MINUTES… WHERE IT’S STILL DARK AND MOMMY AND DADDY WALK AROUND WITH THEIR EYES MOSTLY CLOSED!” And he also decided that the best way to fall asleep at bedtime is to climb out of his crib repeatedly and scream for about 20 minutes about how he “wants to pway cars and twucks!” before passing out. Good times!

  • A Robot Babysitter (think Rosie, from The Jetsons, or Alice from The Brady Bunch)
    • Bonus points if he/she/it could also handle potty training. And make dinner. And every other meal.
  • Calorie-free Cadbury Mini Eggs
    • NOT the big, gross ones with the “crème” inside. Ew. The small, delicious ones that only come out at Christmas and Easter. If you manage to achieve this, I’d also like them to be available all year-long.
cadbury eggs



  • Patience. More patience. A lot more patience.
  • A Hangover-Preventing Margaritano explanation necessary, am I right?
  • More yoga pants – (Shut up Santa, I know I don’t actually “do yoga” <– air quotes)
  • A world in which people would stop pitting Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie against each other. Because that story is as tired as I am. Bah dah bum.
  • A Kardashian-free existence – what? You made Paris Hilton disappear, didn’t you?
  • A Parenting Remote Control that would allow me to do the following:
    • Pause during those awesome moments that fly by too quickly
    • Rewind immediately after the laugh-out-loud quotes
    • Fast forward through the I-can’t-believe-you-are-doing-this-here-and-now meltdowns
    • MUTE. I MUST be able to mute. I’m sure you understand.
  • OK, sure I’ll throw Peace on Earth and all that ass-kissing stuff on my list as well, if it’ll make the haters happy. But you should know that I completely understand if that’s beyond your capabilities. I’m not a total idiot.

Love your old friend,
Krissy Mac

PS. If all of this is just simply too much to ask for, please, just work on the Margarita thing. That one is REALLY. REALLY. IMPORTANT.


No hangover? Heaven.

No hangover? Heaven.

*Has anyone else always thought the word treacly sounds like a descriptor for unattractive sea life? As in, “Jack caught a treacly sea urchin in his fishing net.”

Now THAT shit is treacly.

Now THAT shit is treacly.