Guy Dossi, Sports Editor
Dear Santa,
Well, it’s that time of year again – the time when hundreds of thousands of young children, and one 37-year-old sports editor, sit down to write you their annual letter. I know you’re busy fielding Christmas present requests, but I was hoping that maybe this year you could find it in your heart to make one or two of my wishes come true.
First, as the father of a 2-and-a-half-year-old and a 6-month-old, I want the same thing every parent in my situation wants: sleep. To say I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a while would be an understatement.
I remember when we were a one-child family. Back then, I got plenty of sleep. When the baby cried, he needed to eat – a request only the lovely Mrs. Dossi could fulfill – so I simply rolled over and went back to sleep.
With just one child, if one parent needed a little extra R&R, the other could be on baby duty while the tired one caught some Zs. With two, that’s no longer the case. Sleep schedules are completely different, with one awake while the other is sleeping. There aren’t many time slots that allow Mama and Dada to get caught up on our slumber.
And there’s nothing quite like getting only a handful of hours of sleep before being woken up with a foot in my face or seeing a little boy’s smile just inches from my nose saying, “Hi, Dada.”
Speaking of my little boy, Santa, is there any chance you – or maybe even Mrs. Claus – could potty train him? I know that eventually he’ll be out of diapers. He can’t be going to the prom with his Huggies sticking out from his tuxedo trousers. But getting him to simply sit on the potty has been a battle we are just not winning.
Our little boy has become quite the talker and has an impressive vocabulary. But there’s nothing more demoralizing than changing his smelly, rancid diaper while he lies on his back saying, “That’s disgusting. That’s gross, Dada,” as I’m knuckles-deep in baby poo. I’m well aware it’s disgusting and gross. I don’t need the reminder.
We’ve tried potty training a couple of times, and each attempt has ended with the diaper going back on. At this point, I’d settle for him feeling comfortable using the cat’s litter box. At least it would be a step in the right direction.
Another thing I’d like for Christmas is for my little girl to stay this little. I won’t lie – the first few months of her life, she was not an easy baby. Her brother was the reason we wanted a second child, and she may be the reason there won’t be a third.
Then, one day, she went from being the worst baby imaginable to the sweetest, cuddliest, cutest baby I’ve ever seen. She just sits there, smiling and cooing, melting every heart in the room. Because she was so difficult early on, I’m really enjoying this stage and savoring just how adorable she is.
I know she’s going to grow, and those little coos will turn into words. While I’m excited for the day she says, “I love you, Dada,” I’m not looking forward to her discovering the dreaded word every parent fears: no.
So if there’s any way she could stay like this – at least until next Christmas – that would be great.
As for the lovely Mrs. Dossi, what do you get the woman who already has everything? She has two beautiful children and a husband who is constantly funny, never insensitive and just happens to be right about everything. You don’t need to bring her anything this year. Being married to me must feel like Christmas morning 365 days a year.
As you can see, Santa, my list isn’t very long this year. I would ask for the Dodgers to have a losing season, but I’m pretty sure you’re also on their payroll, so I’ll stick with realistic requests.
I look forward to a full night’s sleep, no longer changing poopy diapers, and being greeted every morning by the smile of my beautiful wife – not the cry of a little boy who doesn’t want to eat his pancake because the fork he was given was green instead of blue.
And even if none of my Christmas wishes come true, I’m still a pretty lucky Guy.
Merry Christmas, Santa.
