Last night, I finished writing my annual Christmas letter. I have to be honest and say that I am on the fence about Christmas letters. I want to give family and friends an update on our lives, but Christmas letters always come out so predictable. I tried to make it interesting and concise but it ended up following the standard form “this is where we went, what we did, and what the kids are doing.” Pete and I have extended family spread out across the country. Years go by between visits with many of them. The Christmas letter seems like the last bastion of contact. I would love to go out for coffee with the people on our Christmas card list. Over a cup of coffee you can talk about life in all its warts and glory. But what you talk about over coffee is not what you are supposed to write in a Christmas letter. You don’t vent and ramble and gush over your crazy yet spectacular kids in a Christmas letter. You’re supposed to follow that old predictable format. After reading over this year’s letter, I started thinking, “what if I wrote the things I talk about over coffee?” What if I wrote another kind of Christmas letter? A letter that told about who my family is instead of what we do. I might write …
Dear cherished family and friends,
This year Sarah has become obsessed with horses. She loves to play with her toy horses and when she gets bored with them, she substitutes her little sister. We have asked her to stop referring to the stairs as “the barn” and told her it’s not nice to tie her sister to the banister. She does it anyways. Sarah started taking riding lessons this fall. It is obvious that she was born to be a rider. She is amazing. At five, she is more confident, strong and brave than I have ever been. I wear sunglasses to her lesson, because the wonder of who this little girl is becoming makes me cry.
Emily is now two years old. We are working on potty training. She understands that poop goes in the potty, which seems like progress. Unfortunately she hands us poop from her diaper to put into the potty – so really not much progress is being made here. We are currently seeking any potty training suggestions, so please send them our way. In September she started preschool. She goes one morning a week. This has turned out to be my favorite day of the week. Not because I get to drop her off, (although that’s not bad) but because I get to pick her up. Each week when the teachers open the door, Emily is waiting, scanning the crowd of mommies, looking for me. When she sees me, she jumps up and down screaming, “That’s MY mommy! That’s MY mommy!” as if she thinks she has won the mommy lottery. In that moment, my heart jumps up and down, and in my head I am screaming “That’s MY little girl,” because I know that I’ve won the little girl lottery.
Amid temper tantrums, sleepless nights and poop -my cup overflows and I pray yours does too.
Love Wendy
Alas, this year’s Christmas letter is already printed and ready to go, but next year, I think I’ll write about our life in all its warts and glory. I’ll write about what happened in our hearts instead of what happened on our calendar. Next year, I’ll write this other kind of Christmas letter.
