It's Not That I've Fallen Off the Face of the Earth...

It's just that I was using my small amount of spare time trying to compose the world's most profound Christmas letter.

But it didn't happen.

There are, after all, only so many angles you can use to subtly say: "I will now spend the next page and half bragging about all the amazing things my family did this year and about how adorably cute and impossibly intelligent my children are."

Not that we didn't do amazing things and not that my children aren't adorably cute and impossibly intelligent, I'm just out of new and clever ways to say it.


So, that leaves me compelled to share here the fascinating news tidbits from our house:

Another One Bites the Dust

Another pet fish, that is. Call me a "glass half-full" kind of person, but I am actually kind of amazed that three of the five fish made it for a whole year.

This particular fish met its untimely demise early yesterday morning.

I say "untimely" because my husband was at work and would not be home for hours.

You, of course, are entitled to your own opinions about gender equality and division of household responsibilities among the sexes, but I am a firm believer that "disposal of dead animals" is a job that belongs firmly in the man's column.

And yet there it was, beginning to decompose at 9 o'clock in the morning.

As I was contemplating the distasteful task ahead of me, my sensitive six-year-old broke into my thoughts.

"Mom," he asked in a quivering voice, "do you think we could pray for him? 'Cause you know how Lazarus was raised from the dead..."

I was about to point out that the other fish were already beginning to nibble on him and clearly all hope was gone, but I then I saw this for the opportunity it was.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, we can. And then we can wait until Daddy comes home to see if anything happens before we bury him."

I'm really not a good mom sometimes.

Another Strike Against Santa

"Another reason people should realize Santa's not real," Caleb informed me randomly over lunch the other day, "Is because of his toys. I mean, whenever you see that big toy bag, it never has remote-controlled cars or guns or anything expensive - just junky ole' stuff like teddy bears and blocks."

At least he's not spoiled or anything.



Letter Writing

But while Santa won't be hearing from us via parcel post, our kids did work on some pictures and letters to Jesus.

I watched Joshua intently work on his paper, his tongue moving furiously back and forth as he wrote.

"What are you writing?" I asked him.

"A letter to God."

"What does it say?"

Purposefully he climbed off his chair and walked over to me. He pointed slowly at each section of scribbles as he slowly enunciated each word: "It say, 'appy buh'day to God."



And in regard to my earlier, snotty remarks about Christmas letters, don't assume that means I'm not eagerly hoping to get one from you.

This year I am stealing an idea from my sister and so, as an added bonus, if you send me any kind of Christmas greeting, your card will be randomly selected at some point during the coming year to receive a free trip to Hawaii AND have your family be prayed for by my family for a whole week!!

(Except not the part about Hawaii - that was a lie).