Tooting our own horn in the key of C
There are several simple signs that the crud has successfully knocked me on my ass, but the biggest sign of all is that I have been home since Friday night (and as of this writing it is now Tuesday afternoon) and though I have been on the couch most of that time, have I posted here? No. I'm just now feeling capable of stringing sentences together with some hope of achieving subject-verb agreement, and if I get wordy, even that's gonna get a bit dicey.
I've been giving some thought to a piece of writing that works well this time of year, but I'm not sure I should / could do it. It's December, which means cards and year-end letters from friends are arriving in our mailbox, and also means it's my turn to wonder if I should do one for my friends as well.
I'd actually like to, but I recognize mine would be different as our lives are different. It makes me realize I'm still working my way out of the unspoken expectation that a life lived without children is somehow worth less than a life with them.
Every now and then, I want to elbow my friends and stage-whisper, so does this reproduction thing mean you've actually got this life thing figured out, and if so, can I have tips? I'm thirty-two, well into the age where I think even the late-bloomers are starting to settle in to the Rest Of Their Lives, and I swear I've just only figured out who the hell I am (the driver's license, did, admittedly, help) much less where I'm going. (Does having a GPS count as cheating?)
I've always been hesitant to write such a year-end piece, because I've seen a few in my time that were utterly smug in their Perfect Year and Perfect Children and oh, look, our jobs are fabulous and aren't we blessed and can we puff out our chests a little more while tooting our own horn in the key of C, babe?
I have this horrid feeling that any missive I wrote for 2008 would include the following:
"For our ten-year anniversary, Jeff and I rented a cabin in the Pacific Northwest with friends. I ended up buying an iPhone off of a friend. On the other hand, Jeff got a bruised tailbone. I suspect I got the better end of the deal."
See? Irreverence. Mind you, also gratitude—I mean, c'mon, a ten-year anniversary implies someone actually put UP with me for ten years—but an acknowledgment that life is neither shiny nor perfect, but we're still laughing about it and sticking together so we win, right?
I have a kid and nine tenths,
I have a kid and nine tenths, and I'm still not sure I figured anything out. If anyone gives you those tips, you're sharing, right?
Oh yes -- sharing and then
Oh yes -- sharing and then selling. Followed by the retiring-rich-and-early, and THAT will guarantee a truly obnoxious holiday letter!
'Dear friends, the Riviera is chilly this time of year, but we do our best to cope...'
Just make shit up. Talk
Just make shit up. Talk about your exciting adventures in the Amazon rainforest and how Jeff got attacked by zombies and beat them off with a shovel.
It's totally the kids
I mean, I've got everything figured out. Ask me some time when I've got my soapbox with me and I will expound for hours.
Stephen's right. The moment Z was born I had a blinding epiphany and realized I suddenly understood everything. Yes, even Arsenio Hall. Although I somehow missed why I'd want to. But I digress. Reproduction is the grail, all right. ;P
Amy, my grandfather used to
Amy, my grandfather used to say that you're not an adult until you reached the age of 35 so I've only been an adult for 3 1/2 years :) If you're sending out a card to folks then they KNOW you and don't mind any irreverance. If you're sending a card to the masses, then that's a little different. I keep meaning to send out cards & never get around to it...
In 6 months I will hit
In 6 months I will hit 40...and I have absolutely *NOTHING* figured out yet in life. As a matter of fact...the birth of a child provides exactly the opposite of answers. Children simply provide more questions...generally ones that you never ever thought about contemplating in the first place.
My yearly wrapups are generally short and to the point. They go something like this
"money's short...times are hard
here's your F'N christmas card"
printed on a business card with a picture of St. Nick flipping you off. Although Bizzy can't give that to her friends and teachers so I have to keep that one at bay.
In all seriousness though...I sometimes feel guilty for not reaching out to friends and family to tell them that we are alive and kicking. My family is very good about communicating how things are going and are *VERY* good at slinging guilt to those of us who aren't. But ... I am now immune to it so that helps a lot.
And if you were to write something like that we would expect absolutely no less than your most irreverant for that is why we read your stuff on a daily basis (or these days when you bother to post).