Why I Didn't Send Christmas Letters This Year

For the past several years, I have dutifully written a very clever Christmas card, somewhat similar to the one posted here. I have tried, in four paragraphs or less, to succinctly recount the most important events of our previous year, being sure to include the accomplishments of our children and any great trips we have taken. This year, due to the insane nature of my December, I did not write a Christmas letter. And surprisingly, I found it quite liberating. Suddenly, the pressure to think of clever things to write in four paragraphs or less was gone. I was no longer trying to figure out a way to write about our family without sounding like I was bragging, or (more likely) using self-depreciating humor. I have realized that all the people I really want knowing things about my life already know them, and anyone else probably isn't all that interested in what Tony P. said at 17 months or what song Little Ray learned on the piano. They probably don't actually care that we crammed all three of our kids in the backseat of our tiny car for 3 weeks this summer and drove all over the Western US and Canada. I'm sure the fact that Missy Mae is a great friend and very sensitive and helpful wouldn't interest them as much as it does me, nor would or the fact that PWL passed his one year mark as the Bishop and is still living and breathing. And I'm positive they don't need to read about my insanely busy schedule this year, or how I changed my piano teaching days to simplify my life, but instead just ended up adding more things to occupy my "free time". I would hope that they would want to know that we are happy, healthy, loving our community and church responsibilities, but I wouldn't be presumptuous enough to send that in a giant letter. However, if you're one of those people who wouldn't otherwise have known all that information, and you've read to the bottom of this post, then I guess you've learned more about me than you cared to know this year. Oh, and Merry Christmas.