The year without a Christmas letter...Part 1

That would be 2012 (and 2010 too actually).

I just got incredibly sad that I didn't send my annual Christmas letter this year.  I guess it's true that I'm a more productive person when hassled/nudged/hinted at by my husband to get something done.  Like the Christmas cards.  And, the Christmas letter.  I think I might surprise you all by sending something like a Groundhog's Day card instead...so beware.

Anyway, I'm sad because I like reading my old Christmas letters just like I sometimes like reading my old blog posts.  It's like looking at Reader's Digest condensed version of the year.  If I had written a Christmas letter for 2012, or finished might be a better way to put it as half of a letter is on the computer at home, it would have featured these topics:  college planning, driving lessons, ballet, lacrosse, and the quirky trip Mary Rollins, Will and I took up the east coast. 

Sixteen is a big year.  Bigger in ways I never anticipated.  Sixteen means driving lessons which leads to increased independence which means I went through a period of nervously biting my nails hoping that my children arrive safely together at high school.  Technically, that period is ongoing.  Does it ever end?  Oh, and I should mention that I have two children high school -- so simple to say, "both my children are at Henry Clay" and yet high school life is anything but simple.

The end of MR's high school years are rushing at us.  We attended college fairs, began talking about majors and have begun actual schools.  I registered MR for the ACT (fun stuff here...apparently she should have registered for the ACT herself but she was, of course, at ballet and didn't have time because we waited too late for her to do it for herself.  it turns out when you register for the ACT you complete oodles of interest inventories.  Personally, I think Will and I did a great job filling out her interest questionnaire.  For example: (actual questions) would you enjoy trimming hedges and trees:  NO.  Would you enjoy watching a forest for fires? NO  Would you enjoy writing a Broadway review? YES.  I read these questions aloud to Will who cracked up and asked me if I was making them up. It was fun...too bad Mary Rollins wasn't there to answer her own questions.  When I told her later that I'd completed her career-interest inventory for her, I thought she might be a little freaked out.  I told her she could go back and change them but she decided I probably got all the answers right.  Who knew?  She described herself to someone recently as "more of an English person" and in perhaps what might be one of the nicest compliments I've ever had as a mother, "there are worse people to be like than you."  Oh well, so much for having a daughter who will be fabulously wealthy and take care of me in my old age but at least we have a lot in common.  I guess I'd better keep working.  Or, maybe she'll marry well.  Or, maybe we've done a better job with Will and he can take care of all of us in our old age.

And here is the list of colleges of interest:  Brown, Elon, Furman, Belmont, Colgate, Vassar, Sewanee, the University of Richmond, and Transylvania.  So far we've been to Elon (loved it) and High Point (no longer on above list).  And, what does she want to major in?  Art History/Arts Administration, English or maybe some sort of social science.  Perhaps one day, she'll work for Sotheby's, the auction house as opposed to Sotheby's the real estate company.

So, that is all for today for a year without a Christmas letter.  Perhaps, there'll be a part 2 tomorrow.  Or, the next day.  Check back and see.

Oh, and the real reason I never got the Christmas card done wasn't because of a lack of nagging, it was actually because I could never get an "acceptable" photo.  Acceptable photos were described to me as, one where "I am not wearing a helmet, a life vest, or a bun.  My hair is brushed and I look pretty.  Like the Brumleys Christmas card.  Why can't we have a card like that?  Why do we always have to be 'doing something!'"

Alas, can I help it if the Mathews are a little more fun than a staged photo?