The REAL Christmas Letter
It's come up in discussions around me a lot lately, whether it's in church classes or just with friends. Christmas letters. And our tendency to brag, show pride, or gloss over the reality of our lives. Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE Christmas letters and cards. I wish more people sent them, I love reading them, and I love writing them. I also try to be "real" when I write them...this year, instead of a typical letter, I decided to put our top quotes of 2015. Hence, why the words "vagina," "wine," and "poop" (twice!) are on our Christmas card this year. I don't try to sugar coat our lives or our reality in real life, and I try to be pretty honest online too.
However, reading this brutally honest Christmas card made me realize that I really was not being as honest about the brutal parts of our year as I could be. And yes, we want to be uplifting and positive and not complain or drag people down...also, as someone who suffers from anxiety, I am very conscious of trying not to trigger someone else's anxiety. But don't we also want to let others know they aren't alone? And most importantly...don't the brutal parts of life make the beautiful parts even more beautiful? If going without the brutal means I don't see as much of the beautiful, or I don't appreciate as much as the beautiful...then bring on the ugly, hard crap. I can take it. In 2015, I learned I could take a lot more than I thought.
So here is our REAL Christmas letter. The ugly and the beautiful and everything in between.
2015 was a HARD year for our family. There was laughter and joy, but more tears and hurtful words than" normal.". In 2015, either for the first time or more than any other year...
The word "divorce" came up. More than once.
Therapy was attended. Hard work was done. Individually, as a couple, and as a family.
Panic attacks. A lot of them. Fuck you, anxiety/maternal OCD.
We had no income for over nine weeks. And our boiler went out during that time.
I had to ask my parents for money for the first time, ever, as an adult. Ever. That includes college. It wasn't much, but it was something.
As we were starting to get back on our feet, he was laid off.
Someone tried to break into our house. We don't know who. Cue more anxiety.
I made a lot of parenting decisions I'm proud of, and a lot I'm not proud of. Even more that I question.
Bitterness grew because I was making most of those decisions alone.
Bitterness grew for him because I was burnt out at home, and all he wanted to do was be home.
We questioned if we got married too young. If we shouldn't have gotten married at all. If we were better off apart. If we were good parents, either way.
I questioned my faith.
Our daughter took a trip on an ambulance, and we had a lot of medical bills as a result.
I didn't get a job I wanted.
He didn't get a lot of jobs he wanted.
I cleaned up a lot of pee and poop and vomit.
Lots of sleepless nights, and not any of them cuddling a milk drunk newborn.
I lost 40 pounds, but I still question if it's ok for me to drop my kids off at the gym daycare as often as I do. If they feel deserted, if they're safe there, if I should just work out after they're in bed when I'd rather be sitting on my ass eating the cream cheese divinities I just made as teacher gifts.
We thought our oldest might have anxiety issues too, only to discover she's "just" a cautious kid who has a hard time with the slope lifestyle, is extremely intuitive and was picking up on our stress, and doesn't like change. Insert more guilt. And more anxiety.
We paid my parents back.
I got a job I wanted.
Our daughter came home happy and healthy from the ER/ambulance ride. Others are not so lucky.
He missed birthdays, anniversaries, trips, and holidays.
He gets to be home for Christmas.
We taught our oldest some coping skills to better handle transition.
We learned some better communication skills.
We all apologized. A lot.
Honestly was improved upon.
I cleaned up less pee and poop and vomit than in 2014!
Our kids really do tell us everything. Everything. (Thanks for telling me you tooted, again, dear...)
I feel safe with them at church and school.
We are both more self aware than in prior years.
We spent a lot of time at church.
I lost 40 pounds!
We went on vacation and watched friends who are family get married.
I visited my best friend for my first trip away from the kids.
Our youngest learned to walk. And talk.
They play together. Quite a bit actually, and it's pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.
I've peed alone a couple times this year.
I've showered more days than not.
We have a friend who is a plumber and was able to save us a couple thousand bucks.
I grew in my faith.
We ate lots of meals together as a family. Some happy, some tense, some angry. Some where mom or dad didn't get to eat at all because we were up and down so much. Some where the kids didn't eat at all because it wasn't chicken nuggets or grilled cheese. But we broke bread together.
We hiked a lot, and only one with a complete tantrum and meltdown.
My children taught me about God.
We donated to some of our favorite charities.
We performed simple acts of kindness, and we were the recipients of many, many acts of kindness.
We laughed more than we cried. Maybe. It was close.
Looking into 2016, I'm not sure what will happen. Maybe it will be harder than 2015 (God, I hope not) but I know we will get through. I'm not sure how or what it will look like, but we will be ok. We are ok. Some days, we are even better than ok. Merry Christmas from the REAL S'more family. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful.
However, reading this brutally honest Christmas card made me realize that I really was not being as honest about the brutal parts of our year as I could be. And yes, we want to be uplifting and positive and not complain or drag people down...also, as someone who suffers from anxiety, I am very conscious of trying not to trigger someone else's anxiety. But don't we also want to let others know they aren't alone? And most importantly...don't the brutal parts of life make the beautiful parts even more beautiful? If going without the brutal means I don't see as much of the beautiful, or I don't appreciate as much as the beautiful...then bring on the ugly, hard crap. I can take it. In 2015, I learned I could take a lot more than I thought.
So here is our REAL Christmas letter. The ugly and the beautiful and everything in between.
2015 was a HARD year for our family. There was laughter and joy, but more tears and hurtful words than" normal.". In 2015, either for the first time or more than any other year...
The word "divorce" came up. More than once.
Therapy was attended. Hard work was done. Individually, as a couple, and as a family.
Panic attacks. A lot of them. Fuck you, anxiety/maternal OCD.
We had no income for over nine weeks. And our boiler went out during that time.
I had to ask my parents for money for the first time, ever, as an adult. Ever. That includes college. It wasn't much, but it was something.
As we were starting to get back on our feet, he was laid off.
Someone tried to break into our house. We don't know who. Cue more anxiety.
I made a lot of parenting decisions I'm proud of, and a lot I'm not proud of. Even more that I question.
Bitterness grew because I was making most of those decisions alone.
Bitterness grew for him because I was burnt out at home, and all he wanted to do was be home.
We questioned if we got married too young. If we shouldn't have gotten married at all. If we were better off apart. If we were good parents, either way.
I questioned my faith.
Our daughter took a trip on an ambulance, and we had a lot of medical bills as a result.
I didn't get a job I wanted.
He didn't get a lot of jobs he wanted.
I cleaned up a lot of pee and poop and vomit.
Lots of sleepless nights, and not any of them cuddling a milk drunk newborn.
I lost 40 pounds, but I still question if it's ok for me to drop my kids off at the gym daycare as often as I do. If they feel deserted, if they're safe there, if I should just work out after they're in bed when I'd rather be sitting on my ass eating the cream cheese divinities I just made as teacher gifts.
We thought our oldest might have anxiety issues too, only to discover she's "just" a cautious kid who has a hard time with the slope lifestyle, is extremely intuitive and was picking up on our stress, and doesn't like change. Insert more guilt. And more anxiety.
We paid my parents back.
I got a job I wanted.
Our daughter came home happy and healthy from the ER/ambulance ride. Others are not so lucky.
He missed birthdays, anniversaries, trips, and holidays.
He gets to be home for Christmas.
We taught our oldest some coping skills to better handle transition.
We learned some better communication skills.
We all apologized. A lot.
Honestly was improved upon.
I cleaned up less pee and poop and vomit than in 2014!
Our kids really do tell us everything. Everything. (Thanks for telling me you tooted, again, dear...)
I feel safe with them at church and school.
We are both more self aware than in prior years.
We spent a lot of time at church.
I lost 40 pounds!
We went on vacation and watched friends who are family get married.
I visited my best friend for my first trip away from the kids.
Our youngest learned to walk. And talk.
They play together. Quite a bit actually, and it's pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.
I've peed alone a couple times this year.
I've showered more days than not.
We have a friend who is a plumber and was able to save us a couple thousand bucks.
I grew in my faith.
We ate lots of meals together as a family. Some happy, some tense, some angry. Some where mom or dad didn't get to eat at all because we were up and down so much. Some where the kids didn't eat at all because it wasn't chicken nuggets or grilled cheese. But we broke bread together.
We hiked a lot, and only one with a complete tantrum and meltdown.
My children taught me about God.
We donated to some of our favorite charities.
We performed simple acts of kindness, and we were the recipients of many, many acts of kindness.
We laughed more than we cried. Maybe. It was close.
Looking into 2016, I'm not sure what will happen. Maybe it will be harder than 2015 (God, I hope not) but I know we will get through. I'm not sure how or what it will look like, but we will be ok. We are ok. Some days, we are even better than ok. Merry Christmas from the REAL S'more family. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful.
Love your family, your are one amazing lady! Miss you! Oxoxo
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