![]() ![]() ![]() Now here I am, facing the pressure and deadline once again. The author's older daughter (left) at work, and her younger daughter (right) during her semester abroad. Believe me, he is so much more than that (he also shovels snow!). Apparently, the only tidbits I ever share about him involve exercise and injuries. My sincerest apologies to Clement Clarke Moore. This keeps his joints from getting too hurty. Tom and I strive to resist getting older. Who knows what I was thinking in 2013, when I drafted a newsy update in the rhyming format of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” that included the following stanza: While preparing to write this essay, I scrounged up copies of the missives I’ve written over the years, and they aren’t all gems. Last year, I was quite proud of my eldest daughter’s new job as a software engineer, yet this is what I wrote underneath her photo in the letter: “Working hard or playing Tetris? Who can tell?”Īnd when my younger daughter studied abroad in Ireland, her caption marked the one major failure of her semester overseas: "Never did see a leprechaun." Laura watched his progress through the frosted windows while sipping cups of tea, falling more in love every moment,” I wrote, referring to myself in the third person.Īdoring sentiments like that are balanced by snarky captions for the pictures I select, like this one of my fitness-obsessed husband “targeting workouts for whatever part of his body is not currently recovering from a surgical procedure made necessary by too much exercise.” The author's husband. The year I made up “Achievement Awards” for each family member, my teen daughter played so many video games she won my award for “Most Likely to Become One With a MacBook Air Due to Uninterrupted Physical Contact.” For my husband, I created “The Sisyphus Award for Moving Snow from Point A to Point B,” noting that “this award recognizes his relentless battle against the ice boulders left by the city plow at the end of our driveway. One year, I wrote a business-like annual report complete with pie charts. I don’t want to disappoint them, even though every year it gets more difficult to write something original. “Loved your letter!” “Always excited to get your card!” Yet I started this letter thing and now friends and family keep me going with positive feedback. I really should just find a photo of my family where everyone’s eyes are open, slap it into a non-denominational card template and pour myself a tumbler of wine. My go-to makeup for a fancy event is Chapstick, because I have neither the time nor the patience to apply a bold red lip. Generally, my modus operandi is to do the bare minimum within socially acceptable standards. I’ve been doing this for over a decade and can’t even remember what madness possessed me the first time. Every year I feel compelled to write a letter that is informative, entertaining and clever. ![]() Of all the stressful things about the holidays, I can’t complain about this one because it is entirely self-inflicted. All this can mean only one thing: It’s time for me to worry about my family’s annual holiday letter. The air is chilly, the leaves have fallen, and I’m getting sick of pumpkin spice lattes. Facebook Email The author (middle) with her younger sisters on Christmas in 1976.
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