The Best Christmas Letter Ever
2018 was not terribly exciting.
The kids are doing well in school. Ready for Harvard? I don’t know, but we really like their teachers.
Thomas, 12, made the middle school soccer team and though he’s not the best, he likes playing.
Russell, 11, got his first B and took it pretty well. He is slowly mastering the need for punctuation.
Blair, 9, has grown an inch, measures herself daily, and sees me as little more than her crappy hairdresser.
Amos recently turned five and had an awesome summer at autism day camp. The rest of us enjoyed the break, too. He has friends at school (though he takes more than he gives) and adores his inclusive pre-K class. If allowed to roam naked, he is totally potty trained.
My Christmas cards are still languishing in the box and after gloating their being 75% off, I realized Amos’s name was not on the card.
Amos is the most unlikely person in our family to be forgotten. He was a sheep in the pageant on Sunday and after consuming ten packs of m&ms, that his mother sprinkled on the floor, he shoved past the shepherds and flew down the aisle. Fortunately, a good friend caught and wrangled him into a nearby pew with promises of her phone. Amos, the sheep who loves YouTube, was a success.
Big Thomas became a partner in his law firm of two attorneys. He practices in Gates county and takes our oldest son to middle school every morning (the only seventh grader without a phone.) We really like small town life and have our house for sale, though we won’t leave Edenton.
Adrian is coming up on year three of her blog and wonders what she ever did before she shared details of mom life and did live videos in her pajamas.
Christmas is one week from today and ain’t nothing been wrapped or shipped. I spend most of my time reminding the children that they don’t need a damn thing. I did order a selfie stick for myself.
Love to all of you and hang in there!