If Our Christmas Letter Was Honest

Every year, I painstakingly write out a Christmas letter to accompany our cards that go to friends and family far way.  I write and print and fold and stuff and breathe a sigh of relief when that job is finally finished.

This year I didn't do it.  I couldn't drum up the energy or time (it's fleeting, don'tcha know).  However, I couldn't rid myself of the compelling thought that someone somewhere on our Christmas card list would be absolutely devastated, devastated I tell you, that they didn't receive a letter detailing the ins and outs of our daily lives.

But here's the thing, I only try to be nice when I write those letters.  Sometimes when I'm writing things out, what I really want to say can't come out because it wouldn't be nice.  Annddd, I really, really, really want everyone to think that I have it all together all the time and not that there are days that Jack doesn't get dressed until after lunch or that Paco gets full of joy when I do our semi-annual room cleaning.

So I thought I'd come up with a nicer, more honest Christmas letter for you, just in case you were devastated at not receiving the letter this year. 

Some of these may be pretend examples, some might be slight exaggerations, and some may be the ugly truth.  I'll let you decide.

Over the last year:

1. Judah has discovered the joy of his voice.  (meaning:  He's loud and he memorizes as many movie lines as he can repeating them, over and over and over. Loudly.)

2. Teaching three children this year has been a learning experience for all of us.  (meaning:  Three children are at the table "helping each other" (yet again, loudly) as I'm chasing a semi-naked Judah through the house as the phone is ringing, the dryer signal beeps and the baby is upstairs in his bed screaming for his mama.)

3. Maggie continues in her wonderful love for books and reading. (meaning:  She's very good at disappearing when it's chore time.  She's usually found hiding under the bed or in the bathtub with the shower curtain drawn, book in hand.)

4. Jack has developed a very refined palette.  (meaning:  He wants to eat nothing that we give him.  Except puffs.  Thank God for puffs.)

5. Our garden seems to be doing well this year. (meaning:  We haven't destroyed the two zucchini plants which constitute our garden with wagons or bikes.  Yet.)

6. Olivia's maternal nature has been developed more and more this year.  (meaning:  Sometimes, I hear the baby cry and know that she's picking him up again and/or trying to torture him in someway, like squeezing his cheeks.  Or lungs.)

7. Sam started taking music lessons and is loving committing songs to memory.  (meaning:  If I hear Oh, Suzanna or Jingle Bells being pounded out on the piano thirty-five times today, I may just be requiring a straight jacket.)

8. Jamie has discovered a love for crafting which is a great way to unwind.  (meaning:  The kitchen counter and table are covered all the time in another one of "Jamie's great ideas."  Glue guns, scraps of paper, scissors...  It's a toddlers paradise.)

9. Pat is always up for the challenge of raising a large family.  (meaning:  Some days, he really, really wants to run away to live on a golf course.  But he doesn't.  What a guy.)

10.  Our family has been exceedingly blessed this year.  (meaning:  We made it through this rough year only by the grace of our loving God.  Hallelujah!!)

Wonder what I'll get to write next year.