by Labels: Christmas ||
Season's greetings from Mandy and the Gingers! Though, honestly, if it were up to them, we'd be visiting each of you in person, cookies in hand. They are somewhat sticklers for traditional proprieties, as is evidenced by the sighs when I forgot to send out their birthday thank you cards and the patient "Mama's" when I confessed that I forgot to order Christmas cards. Again.
Ever since Chad and I separated, I've tried to get Christmas cards out on time. And every year I've failed. The ridiculous thing is that I love receiving Christmas cards. I love seeing families grow, smiling faces of those I adore, and messages from those I wish I were closer. I find myself saving them, wrapping them in string, and pulling them out each year to smile fondly at their cheery greetings.
It's not fair for me to receive and never send.
I'll try to do better next year.
In the meantime, since I've also been slacking on my blogging, I thought I'd attempt a bit of a Christmas letter. I've never done this before, so bear with me.
Dear friends and family,
We've had a busy year, though what year isn't? When I pulled out the Christmas decorations there were a few forgotten items on top the box that I swear I put out in the garage just last month rather than last January.
So what did we do?
Joseph played Little League and, while he wasn't the best player, won over his team mates with his easy smile and willingness to keep trying. In return, his team mates won of my heart for not chiding him when he ducked as the ball was being thrown at him.
Elizabeth spent most of the year jumping around in gymnastics. She was quite good. Not in that "we're training for the Olympics" way, but in that "Oh hey! She can do a pretty kick ass tumbling run."
Can I say "ass" in a Christmas letter? I'm thinking so since most nativity scenes seem to feature one or two. No. Literally. I'm not calling the Wise Men asses.
Joseph finished out second grade and started third. His report card came home with a jumble of letters and numbers and a note to parents to not mentally translate said digits to traditional grades. I, of course, ignored the note and am pleased to share that according to my calculations, he received at 5.9(S)(E) during his first trimester. His teacher also assured me he was a "very polite young man with exceptional manners".
Elizabeth started Kindergarten this year and in typical Elizabeth fashion, has completely taken charge of her educational career, informing her teacher, repeatedly of her displeasure in not learning how to read whole books by the end of the first day, week, month, and trimester. Her teacher has relayed to me that this displeasure is often expressed with hand on jutted hip and sighs of disappointment. Thankfully her report card also assured me that Elizabeth is a very polite and helpful young lady.
Either that or her teacher is afraid of her.
As for me, I'm still working on that damn novel. "Damn Novel" is currently the working title. I thought getting the initial story on paper would be the most difficult part.
Then I started to edit it.
I spend a lot of my lunch breaks listening to music while I trying to sort out plot holes and make my characters more realistic. I also spend a lot of my lunch breaks staring at the screen with my finger hovered over the "Delete All" command.
I'm still dating Steve. I'm still not sure why he hasn't run away. Probably because I have chickens and everyone knows dating a chick with chickens and who cans is the best idea ever.
We've traveled a bit this year -to Washington, a few trips to Disneyland, some day trips to Monterey. The older they get, the easier it is to jump into the car and take off to where ever the wind blows us. Honestly, except for the fact that all three of us get car sick, we're fantastic travelers.
We still live in our little cottage with our garden and our chickens. There was a little bit of fluctuation in that department with the gruesome death of Miss Clucks, the purchase of Ava, Peeps, and Gertrude who might or might not be George, and the departure to Nana's house of SnowWhite (Houdini) and Getrude (in case she's a George). If it all sounds confusing just nod your head and ask if we are still getting eggs.
To which the answer is yes. It was a bit barren there for a couple of months, but after I put golf balls in their nest, they started laying again. (Hand to heart. Golf balls.)
We've spent a lot of time with our dear friends and family, not as much time as I'd like, but there have been Supper Clubs and wine tastings, BBQ's and Grease sing-a-longs.
As I sit in my snug cottage, the heater humming, my stomach full, and the Christmas lights twinkling, I look forward to a weekend filled with dinners out, trips to the movies, and a party. I can count my blessings; healthy children, healthy body, cherished friends, phenomenal family, a passion I'm free to pursue with partners who support and encourage me, an ex I can still call my friend, in-laws that still treat me like a daughter, a boyfriend who tries to understand the dynamic, a job I enjoy with co-workers who make me laugh every day, and a boss who understands that sometimes I need to take a sick day to be home with a little girl who's biggest ailment is cured with hugs and snuggles and kisses.
Sometimes this year has been messy, stressful, and even heartbreaking, but in whole, it really is a Wonderful Life.