Torman's excellent blog post today made me think. What are my Christmas wishes? Something as poignant and beautiful as Torman's wish for 20 more years with his wife?

The last couple of months, since September, really, have seen every spare minute of my life supervising middle school homework. Times two. Chasing down tests, calling teachers, pushing and shoving my son through algebra homework, helping my daughter find her head with both hands, making lists, making threats, making appointments, confiscating video game time, pushing a rope uphill, generally busting my ass as ringleader, rodeo boss, and all around badass mom, making it all get done. Pushing and shoving against the inertia of early teens, against the irresistable forces of TV, dawdling, daydreaming, texting, and video games.

I'm tired. Really, really tired.

When I stop and ask myself why I'm doing all this, it's because I want them to have good lives. Not fabulous lives. Just decent ones, free from poverty, debt, and want.

I don't really care if they know algebra or Spanish, or how much money Queen Isabella of Spain gave to Christopher Columbus. But I do care if they make it through high school and into something, anything, that will enable them to live without eight roommates, food stamps, or tins of cat food for dinner.

So that's my Christmas wish. For my kids to be OK. To get through school, to find some way to earn money that they at least like, that doesn't crush their souls with boredom. To find spouses they love. To find their way through this messy business of life into some sense of contentment. To figure out that contentment doesn't come from a store, but a full belly does. To have enough. Enough love, enough space, enough food, enough challenge, enough peace.

That's what I want.

What's your Christmas wish?