Sad Faces and Newsletters

It's the week before Christmas, which means I've stopped in between each word of this sentence to add something else to my grocery list.  A forgotten ingredient for the chili we're bringing to Crisler Christmas this Saturday, a can of frosting for Atticus's Polar Express party next week, ground ginger because Adelaide reminded me we haven't made any kind of gingerbread concoctions so far this year and that is a hanging offense in her book.  She tends to moderate her requests so much that when she asks for something, I jump to accommodate her.  Hang on, was I just outsmarted by Daughter?  Again?

This week has also brought things like cookie decorating day at Caedmon's preschool.

Parents were invited to stay and help decorate the creations, and it was fascinating to get a glimpse of Caedmon's time away from me.  It turns out Cade is an interesting mix of Derek and myself, which has somehow turned him into an early reader who isn't afraid to shout out the answers to every question the teacher asks, not giving anyone else a chance to answer anything.  This is why I sound like a Catholic nun anytime I'm around his teachers, constantly saying, "Bless you," and patting them in solidarity.

This week- this morning, actually- I've also been sure to brush off Caedmon's fears to go downstairs by himself, especially when he cites "the sad face in the kitchen" as the basis of his worry.  When I finally sigh in resignation and hold his hand as we go down the stairs and into the kitchen together, this is what greets me:

That is indeed a sad face in the kitchen.  It's also the back of the toaster oven, which I'd forgotten I'd moved in order to make room for our demon printer that refused to print the Christmas newsletter I finally finished last night.  Something about needing both ink and paper to work.  I'm sure once I've replenished our supply of both, it will still refuse to work simply because my IT guy won't be here.  (Note:  My IT guy is Derek.  He's also the Information Technology guy for various family members and at work, despite the fact that he is not an actual IT guy.)

At this point I'm just thankful the dang newsletter is written, because it is tortuous to write.  Scratch that; it's fun to write, but tortuous to read.  Derek asked me to read it aloud to him last night, and I got three sentences in before I thrust the laptop at him and told him to please, please, please read it to himself, silently.  I knew that if I read one more word aloud I would no longer be able to fight the compulsion to delete the whole thing because it's all TRASH, UTTER GARBAGE.  

I love reading the holiday newsletters that come in our mail from our loved ones.  It's one of my very favorite things!  I don't put any of those newsletters through the interrogation that our own has to go through:  Is this thing too braggy?  Boring?  Overly long?  Cutesy?  Too detailed?  Am I making our imperfect lives seem too perfect?  The structure seems off.  My syntax is a travesty.  When did my vocabulary disintegrate?  WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER WITH ANY OF THIS?

Then I remind myself for the millionth time that reading these same things from our friends and family is ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS, and trust all the recipients to be gentle and forgiving of any flaws, because that is what relationships are about, and why we do silly things like Christmas cards:  To build and continue relationships.

Except for that one family whose photos and letter and very lives seem like one flawless package, delivered specially to our mailbox every December.  They suck.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Honesty

It's that time of year, where you lie to yourself and those you love most about the possibility of getting a decent family photo for the yearly Christmas card.  You go to all the trouble of corralling children whose very last intention is cooperating in crafting a mendacious image of a smiling, happy, everything-is-awesome-and-so-are-we picture to send out to all your friends and family who would more likely benefit from receiving an envelope full of candid pictures snapped on cranky mornings and that day you made your son wear the most masculine of his sister's clothing because all his were still dirty (I'll get to the laundry when I get to it, ALL RIGHT?), with perhaps a hastily scribbled note admitting that your life isn't anywhere near perfect, and you'd be willing to bet the recipient's isn't, either, but that you still love them and wish them the very merriest Christmas.

And these were the good ones, friends.  

Christmas Newsletter 2012

For the past few years, rather than spending precious time picking out a design for, composing, typing, and printing out a family newsletter to stuff in the envelope with our Christmas card, I've been putting something along the lines of "Merry Christmas- If you actually want to know anything about us, check the blog."

Not in those exact words, of course.  I try not to sound quite so surly on Christmas cards.

The really ironic part is that I love reading other people's newsletters.  So if you usually send one, please don't stop.  Don't be like me.


Now, for those of you that were sent here via our cards:  Welcome!  For those of you that are here on your once-a-year check of the blog:  Welcome back!  For those of you that are regulars around here:  I love you!


Curious to know just what we've been up to over the course of the past year?

How about a month-by-month blog recap?

[Just a quick note: For anyone new here who may not consider themselves to be the most tech savvy person in the world, I'm going to be providing links to previous posts about our family embedded within each month's paragraph; the links will be a different color than the rest of the text.  Simply click on any alternate-colored words to read the story.]

January

Adelaide turned six in May and absolutely loves to read; I soon learned I can no longer leave just any reading material lying around the house.  Caedmon, who turned two in September, taught me I can't take my eyes off him for two seconds at the grocery store.  We still don't have any pets at this point, but our kiddos are making do.  You may also be interested to know that because we have three little kids in the house, we spend most of the winter season battling some kind of cold or illness. (Like right now, as a matter of fact.)  I also decided to take the advice of a random parenting article and started reading from Grimm's Fairy Tales to Adelaide.  It was an interesting lesson for us both.  

February

Atticus celebrated his fourth birthday in October.  He's a hilarious and active little guy.  He also suffers from what we believe are night terrors, which means I can pretty much guarantee that on any given day Derek and I are both operating on minimal amounts of sleep.  I (that would be Kristy; I refuse to speak in the third-person for the entirety of this post) decided that 29 is the appropriate age to become a curmudgeon.  Caedmon chose the month of February to really drive home the point that Derek is his favorite person on earth.  Right around Valentine's Day is when we found that Adelaide seems to have inherited her father's perfectionism and her mother's excruciatingly slow pace.  I got to go see my sisters, who were both expecting their first babies, and it was painfully exciting.  Shortly after my visit, my youngest sister and her husband survived a tornado, even if their house didn't.  

March

March reminded me that our children are crazy.  But that's okay, because I am, too.  I also let a little bit of my inner grammar freak slip, and I've been getting good-natured crap for it ever since.  The three kids spent much of the spring reinforcing my politically incorrect gender bias.  My spring gardening reminded me how much I hate rabbits.  This was also the month my sister Kelli had my sweet little niece Charlotte.  Adelaide showed everyone that she, too, is a curmudgeon-in-training.  Atticus reminded me that there's a sharp learning curve to this whole 'raising boys' thing.

April

Derek got to go fishing in April.  I decided that Atticus is scared of all the wrong things.  I made a grievous mistake due to a lack of sleep.

May

One of our kiddos got sick.  Again.  We had another typical day in the Crisler household.  I shared my views on childhood boredom.  Adelaide turned six and said more inappropriate things.  My youngest sister Steph also had her first baby girl: Vada.  I had to wait over a month to meet her.

June

Our daughter gets emotional at times, and I had trouble dealing with it this month.  Atticus proved that he was paying attention during our summer "Fruits of Spirit" lessons.  Adelaide said the "F" word.  The kids and I had great fun completing a Father's Day questionnaire to celebrate Derek.  They were also super helpful when I went swimsuit shopping.  

July

We traveled south for Charlotte's baptism and to finally meet Vada.  Whilst traveling, I pledged my undying love for certain fast food chains.  I also battled ants and proved what an exceptional friend I am.  Japanese beetles wreaked havoc on my gardens this month- this coupled with the rabbits made me turn to Derek for some rather unconventional help.  

August

Caedmon continued to rub his preference for Daddy in my face.  We made our annual pilgrimage to the Iowa State Fair.  Adelaide finally began losing her baby teeth.  She also tried out cheerleading, and ultimately decided it's not the sport for her.  Atticus loved a very specific part of the Olympics. 

September

This month I was strangely heartened to see another mother at Aldi having trouble with her little ones.  Caedmon decided he does not like having his picture taken.  We spent a wonderful weekend at a wedding, but I had a little trouble packing for the trip.  I survived an imaginary home invasion.  I posted a ton of photos of Caedmon (just because I can), and wrote him a letter for his second birthday.  

October

We embarked on a family golf outing, which was especially appropriate given that Atticus turned four this month, and golf is one of his very favorite things.  He also inadvertently humiliated me at the store.  We went trick-or-treating for Halloween and Caedmon got creative in his greeting of strangers.

November

In November we had fun visiting our local pumpkin patch.  Our older two showed me just how much they love their daily chores.  I got strangely sentimental watching our boys play with Derek.  Atticus was indignant at the nurses' treatment of him at his yearly doctor's exam.  Adelaide informed me that her tooth fairy isn't as generous as her friends'.  We spent Thanksgiving at Derek's parents' house, where I got my baby fix.  Atticus waged war against a nightmare chicken.  Adelaide said some more stuff that was either really strange or really wise.  

December

So far this month, we've discussed the vast differences between Derek's brain and my own, Adelaide had her school Christmas concert, Derek wrote a surprise post for my 30th birthday, and I talked about how grateful I am to be 30 and healthy.




I hope you've all had a wonderful 2012- Merry Christmas!