The Christmas Letter I don't send out.

I am so happy for those of you with perfect lives. Really, I am. But, I am not and never will be you; nor do I want to be.

My family is awesome, but we aren't perfect.

My husband has a good job which we are very grateful for, but we don't make gazillions of dollars a year.

My kids have many, many accomplishments but they also have less than stellar moments.

My grandson *cover your eyes if you can't take it* can't walk on water. Yet.

Once more I failed to make mother of the year.

Our house isn't featured in Snooty Snotty I'm so much better than you don't sit on the furniture or walk in my garden magazine.

And that's okay. Cuz we are happy and *relatively* healthy and have a whole lot of fun and love going on.



Sorry, can you tell we've gotten yet another yearly brag letter? We do like keeping up with what is going on but ahh not so much when you only tell us how perfect you and your kidlets are.

Especially when we actually have contact with said perfect children and they paint an entirely different picture than you do.

I'd rather know you are human, really, I would. I'd think much more highly if you flat out said I'm only telling you the highlights but we're all in this together and we struggle too.



I guess it makes people feel better to let the world think things are perfect and wonderful and you are together and in control.

If nothing else the letters give us a good laugh, so keep 'em coming.
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