2008 Christmas Letter

Holiday Greetings, or Merry Christmas if you prefer. Each year, I look forward to regaling distant friends and relatives with embellished descriptions of our activities and accomplishments. This year, I thought I’d tell the unvarnished truth.

Before addressing specifics with each child, I’ll list a few of the general problems around our house. First off, none of the children have developed the ability to turn off a light. They have no trouble manipulating the switch to turn ON the lights, but somehow the logic for OFF escapes them. The older kids have moved to the basement, and to help “incentivize” them to master this useful skill, they pay $1 each time I find their room or closet lights left on. We also struggle with the door closing skill and differentiating between inside and outside voices. Despite frequent setbacks, I remain optimistic that my “gifted” and “talented” children will eventually master these skills. Tami and I are really figuring out this parenting thing. I share with you some of our most successful strategies for dealing with those times when life comes at you fast. 1. Yelling 2. Retreating behind a locking door 3. Insanely early bedtimes/naps 4. Wearing earplugs, like the ones you find at a gun range 5. I’m currently contemplating various pharmaceutical options Now for the specifics, in no particular order:

Having recently turned 11, Jens coasts toward adolescence. As he begins this journey, I watch with pride as he develops a style all his own…a style I affectionately call “slob”. If it’s grubby, wrinkled or slept in, Jens is inexorably drawn to it. His hair takes on a life of its own. At a recent family party, Uncle Dave looked Jens up and down, and said, “That kid is three guitar lessons away from a record deal.” Jens continues to be thwarted in his quest for justice and equity. He never fails to inform me who has the hardest job, who isn’t doing their job, who caused the problem, etc. Even as he leaves Cub Scouts behind, and enters the brave new world of Axe Body Spray and Skull Candy Earbuds, Jens holds onto his childhood. He remains a magnet for friends, younger cousins, babies and any activity involving a ball and sweat. My Sweet Grace (9) finds herself in that awkward stage where baby teeth fall frequently, and adult teeth erupt willy-nilly. Besides dental difficulties, many of her once-successful strategies for getting the recommended daily allowance of attention are failing. (This can be explained by Selma and Patty’s Adage of Aging Children: “The older they get, the cuter they ain’t”.) Having to compete with the adorable “Little-A girls” presents a daunting challenge. I suppose her escape into the written word comes as no surprise. Grace diligently reads every novel series written in the history of children’s literature. If there is a career opportunity that draws heavily on having read innumerable badly written books, Grace’s future is bright. (sitcom writer??) Recently I insisted she confine herself to Newberry novels. This subset has it’s ups (Hero and the Crown, The Higher Power of Lucky) and downs (Roller Skates, A Year Down Yonder); but they are much better on average than the insipid drivel found in the Hardy Boys, Inkheart, and Serpentide. Somehow she survived the year without a new Harry Potter Book, although this didn’t stop her from rereading them all several times. We were keenly disappointed when the sixth movie was postponed until next summer. Max (14) rues the day he first came to work with me; of course he was two, so his choice was limited. When his free time isn’t being hijacked to mow, rake, push or pull, he lives for 8:00 a.m. on Saturday mornings, so he can dazzle his opponents at Ultimate Frisbee, or show off his slice serve on the tennis court. Besides athletic pursuits, Max is singing with girls this year. This is a great enhancement to his previous choral endeavors. Concert attendance has upgraded from “Sheer Torture” to “Tolerable in Small Enough Doses”. Honest. The last concert was quite good. Really. Max has wisely taken to heart that he will be receiving NOT ONE PENNY from me for college, and is succeeding scholastically. Only 13 more terms that matter…I’m keeping my fingers crossed. His social life mainly consists of eating candy, managing I-Tunes playlists, and playing X-Box with a group of friends I would charitably call nerds. But just a few weeks ago, I picked him up late on a Saturday night from his first “b’grl prty” (I know, taking the vowels out of words doesn’t always make it cool.)

Anna is 2 going on 10. She often calls to mind the following nursery rhyme:

There was a little girl who had a little curl, Right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good she was very very good. But when she was bad she was horrid.

Years ago when Nena took ballet lessons, I balked at the exorbitant costume fee. “She’ll wear this thing for one performance lasting 45 seconds, and never wear it again!” I raged. Well, Anna, Ashlei, and every neighbor girl in a two block radius have made me eat those words. Dress-up and pretend is always on Anna’s to-do list. Her favorite outfits are “Daisy”, “Butterfly” and “Naked”. Naked comes up a lot due to her propensity for “peeing” her pants. In our calm, reasoned conversations about keeping dry, she always responds appropriately, “No, Dad, I won’t pee my pants. It’s gross.” But somehow, leaving the house or holding her on my lap signals her bladder to release its contents. Oh well. Perhaps the fact that she won’t let me arrive or leave without hug and kiss helps her get away with anything.

Whereas Anna is prone to mood swings, Ashlei (4) is unfailingly ebullient. Her favorite toy is a 40 year old Fisher Price record player. It’s the kind requires manual winding, has a sliding on/off switch, and plinks out a melody on notched, plastic records. There’s no battery or LED. She plays with it nearly every day, singing along to the Barney song, Jack and Jill, and Hickory Dickory Dock. I’m amazed how easy to please she is, and how richly I enjoy any time I spend with her. She enjoys her bedtime books, but loves made up stories, such as “Percy the Potato Bug”, “Jake the Kid Who Lost his Big-Wheel Because he was Irresponsible and Left it in the Driveway”, and “Pete the Kid Who Got Lost When he Didn’t Tell his Mom Where he was Going.” Sometimes if the endings are overly moralistic or disturbing, we revise to make them happier. After a good night’s sleep, Ashlei wakes up earlier than everybody else. She has learned to use the Tivo remote, and reads well enough to find her shows. In a failed last-ditch attempt to preserve my sanity, I recently deleted the DragonTales Season Pass.

I’m at a loss for what to write about Nena. Perhaps a list… GPA- 4.0 Room- clean Piano Practicing- done Personal Progress- ahead of schedule Journal entries-recent Use of inappropriate language- non-existent Friends- all nice In summary, she’s a lot like Mary Poppins; “Practically perfect in every way.” But I guess that’s not entirely true. She babysits for other people way too much. Sometimes she delays when I ask her to make cookie dough or brownies. Also, if she’s tired or hungry, she can turn into a real bear. And she sleeps in too late, hogs the bathroom a little bit and can be very slow about doing the dishes. Other than that, it’s hard to say aught against her. There isn't much to say about myself and Tami. A couple pictures may suffice:

To borrow from a Primary song, "One year older and wiser too." That about sums it up.

One evening in September, I watched a Country Music Festival. After an hour or so, Tami asked, "Why on earth are you watching this?" I found the spot with Trace Atkins singing "You're Going to Miss This". For all you country music haters, I'll trouble you with just the chorus:

You're going to miss this You're going to want this back You're going to wish these days Hadn't gone by so fast These are some good times So take a good look around You may not know it now But you're going to miss this"

We watched Trace, mesmerized. By the end of the song, we were both in tears, surrounded by dirty dishes, open doors, noisy kids, schoolbooks, dress-up clothes, scattered toys and turned-on lights. I make far too many comments and observations with tongue lodged in cheek, but fully realize, these are some good times.

We wish you many such transcendent moments in the coming year where things are unexpectedly clear. With Love, The Fillmores