I addressed most of my Christmas cards last night. As a result, my hand is cramped into an unfortunate claw position. Rest assured though that if your last name starts with one of the first letters of the alphabet, your address will be legible and delivered correctly.
I cannot make the same promise for you Zs. In fact, anyone Winegardner or later stands a good chance of having their card misdelivered due to an address written with a highly suspect claw-shaped pen grip.
In case you’re wondering, this was Alex’s contribution to the holiday card endeavor:
Clearly if I sent out cards, I managed to take a photo worthy of being put on the card. (Operating under the assumption that I always put a photo on the card, which I do.) That photo was not easy to obtain. I looked through an entire year of photos of my three kids and couldn’t find one that met my high standards (read: three children, no one crying).
Dammit. Time to take a photo.
The resulting photo shoot took two evenings, one meltdown, the decision to eliminate flash photography for sensory reasons, and me shouting, “CAT BUTT!” to make my kids laugh.
Still, it was a struggle.
Even though my kids aren’t always cooperative for group photos, I did have some other options to consider.
There was the gerbil substitution:
There was the absolutely hilarious cat photo option:
There was the first-night pre-meltdown photo session option:
There was the hand-drawn option:
There was the festive but not super flattering Santa photo:
There was the “my family can’t make funny faces if only the backs of their heads are in the photo” option:
And then there is probably the best option, the one that I dare any of you to find fault with:
None of these actually ended up on the card, which some of you will be getting in the mail and some of you will be seeing posted here on Christmas.
And now that that is done, I begin my quest to take a suitable photo of all three of my children for next year’s card. I’m not kidding. It’s a twelve-month process. Wish me luck.