Christmas Letter angst
About 15 years ago, I was one of those people who sneered at the generic Christmas letter that arrived with holiday cards. What? A basic form letter, one-size-fits-most, to keep in touch with friends? Banish the thought. I felt that my holiday cards were the means to stay in touch with many people, and the last thing I wanted to do was relegate them to some form-letter blandness. So, almost as if I were humming Irving Berlin songs, I wrote personal notes in each and every card I sent. Yes, it was somewhat more time-consuming, but I felt like people would appreciate the personal touch. I know that I appreciated the cards where folks who took the time to write even a small hello over those who only signed cards or tossed in their pre-printed round-up of the year.
A few years later, our twins arrived in late November. Besides having new babies, we launched into the holiday season where the twins wore adorable Santa and Mrs. Clause outfits to parties, and everything was merry and bright. Their big brother was well adjusted to the new siblings and life was good on the homefront. To be honest, I think I might have taken photos of the kids that were slipped into cards that year without much of a note. People would understand, right? I had new babies. I was busy! But it was the first step down the slippery slope...
The next year, I skidded down that slope completely and thought about the ease a generic Christmas letter would bring to my life. It would be so much convenient to write one letter to send to everyone than write individual notes. Provide lots of interesting detail, and nobody would mind. (On a personal note, by this next Christmas, the twins were turning one and my next baby was due in February. Time was at a premium.)
I began reviewing the kinds of letters I'd received over the years. They seem to fall into several categories: the Glowing Life of Unreal Perfection letter, the Every Little Detail No Matter How Trivial double-sided letter, the Brief But Touching Base letter, and the Funny letter. I decided that if I were going to write a generic letter, it better be an entertaining one, so Funny seemed my obvious choice.
So, I've had to come up with the right angle for my letter. That first year, our letter was 'written' by our computer, and it imparted some amusing observations about us, all from the perspective of computer use (which has certainly changed over the past 13 years) and interaction. It talked about our home being a gated community (meaning that stairs, the kitchen, older son's bedroom, and the electronics were all safely stowed behind gates or play-yard fences as we tried to provide a free-ranging environment for the twins).
Another year, my angle was an IM chat with Santa. A couple of years ago, it was a 'discussion' my credit card company over the variety of travel charges that appeared on my bill throughout the year. Last year, it was all about cliches (and if you know how we finished the line "I see London, I see France" you must either be on my Christmas list...or you saw Sir Ian McKellen perform "King Lear").
Over the years, people have told me how much they love--and anticipate--my Christmas letters. One year, I skipped writing the letter, and believe me, I heard about it from disappointed Aunt Carole, and well, let's just say I haven't skipped since. I got over the issue of not writing a personal note to each and every card recipient, feeling somewhat relieved that my letter was imparting more information about our family's year than I could ever accomplish by hand.
But the pressure is on. Every year, I have angst about the letter. Now, mind you, I have angst about Christmas in general. The right gifts for the kids are important to me. Getting the whopping number of packages that must be shipped off to distant family and friends purchased, wrapped, padded, and taken to UPS is always a major milestone. I breathe a sigh of relief on my way home, while I mentally justify shipping expenses as part of the tax of living so far away from the rest of our family.
But it always comes back to the letter. What is the right angle for the Funny letter this year? It has to be clever. It must be engaging. It must give a fair share to each member of the family. It must not sound too braggy, lest it be considered approaching my most-despised Christmas letter style, the Glowing Life of Unreal Perfection letter.
I find myself stalling, prolonging the angst. It would be easier if I just sat down and starting writing, but noooo, suddenly I find there's another load of laundry, some dishes to wash, appointments to be made, or something else that needs my attention. So, the angst grows until it hits near-fever pitch the first week of December, when the cards really need to be sent on their way. But before that can happen, the letter must be written, copied onto the cute half-price holiday paper that I bought last December 26, and mailed.
I'm still waiting for the right angle for this year's letter. And writing this blog entry has chewed up a fair amount of time, so I should probably go wash some dishes and check on the laundry before I continue to procrastinate a little more on how to chronicle the events of a mostly really excellent year. Maybe I'll look over the photos of our recent cruise and daydream a little more, er, refresh myself on those details for the letter.
Original 50-something Moms Blog post by Mary Kraemer.
