Thursday, December 11, 2008
This is a warning and an apology to those of you out there who usually receive a Christmas card from us. Usually, my first activity of the holiday season is to sit down and write a somewhat witty and very braggy Christmas letter to go with a nice family picture of ours. Then I spend several joyful hours stuffing between 40-50 envelopes and anticipating a possible return letter from any of our recipients. This year, the whole belly-up-to-the-table, filling out addresses routine just sounds horrid and tiring. (It doesn't help that we've nearly wasted a week of December with our family taking turns going through the stomach flu...) I asked Mark if he thought it would be okay if I just plead pregnancy and skip the Christmas cards this year. He heartily agreed (mostly because he hates it when I nag him for a week to hunt down the addresses of his friends or family I can't find.) Maybe we'll make up for it by sending out birth announcements this time around. (Well...if someone volunteers to make them for me. Miranda? Elsje? Michelle?)
Anyway, another problem was that it's not very likely that I was going to like any family picture this year, creeping up on 3rd trimester and all. We had a couple of ridiculous afternoons where we tried to get pictures of the kids being cute together and decided that we just needed Uncle Duke to come and make faces for them because Mom and Dad weren't cuttin' it. So if you are wondering what the kids look like, here's one shot we sort of liked...although it hasn't been trimmed the way we would have done it. And Boston's got a weird smile, but oh well. Atleast you can see the holes in Leslie's jeans from playing rowdy with the boys on the carpet and the gaps in her teeth.
And the Christmas letter? Well, I feel like I've already cued everyone in on all the cute stuff with this blog, anyway, and it's no fun to write a rerun.
This is turning out to be a nice Christmas though. I get to be involved in some music stuff with the Relief Society Christmas brunch and the ward choir. Mark had a very fun work Christmas party at Texas Roadhouse, where the country-fried steak I ordered was as big as the platter it was on. (Dad says beef is good for pregnant women.) All of the kids, Cooper included, can chime in when singing Angels we have Heard on High. I managed to pull off a double batch of my Grandma's Christmas rasberry bars and eat them before we all lost our appetite with the flu. Now that I'm feeling better I'm having trouble deciding what to make next! I've got Baby Grape's quilt top done and up on my new quilt frame. And Mark is having a very busy, exciting month for work to finish off the year strong after a lot of slowness and adjusting to all the new processing rules and mortgage regulations that the banks have changed this year. (So no one out there worry that we aren't sending a Christmas letter because Mark has changed careers to be a trucker or something...he still loves his job.)
This is starting to get as bad as the usual letter.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.