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My Christmas Letter

Last night, I sat down to write a Christmas letter. I thought, especially since we live so far away from our family and friends now, it would be nice to update them. Did you know that writing a Christmas letter is a lot harder than you might think?

Dear family and friends,

The Meehan family has experienced many changes during 2011. The biggest change was our move from Chicagoland to Orlando, Florida. I felt like I needed to uproot my kids and move some place cheaper after their deadbeat dad decided he no longer needed to hold a job. I tore the kids away from everything and everyone they know and love and moved across the country to a place where I could get a job with insurance. After the boys were hospitalized last winter, we felt like we needed. We moved because of the weather.

I have a job working with kids who make me want to bang my head against the wall. I go to work every day and come home to kids making messes when I’d much rather stay home, write, and take care of my kids and house. I work at a school down here.

Austin hates Florida and claims that everyone in the state is illiterate. After being without dental insurance for so long, Austin went to the dentist and found out he has fourteen cavities. Austin likes to play video games.

Savannah has an appointment with an orthopedic doctor this week because she still has constant knee pain. Savannah has started driving and she hasn’t had an accident yet. Savannah’s on the swim team.

Jackson is somehow managing to fail band. This summer, Jackson spent a night in the hospital because he thinks he’s Tony Hawk and he flipped off his bike. He hasn’t cleaned his disgutingly, slimy turtle’s tank in months. Jackson likes skateboarding.

Lexi doesn’t like her new school and she misses her friends from back home. Lexi is starting to adjust to Florida.

Clayton is still a spaz and he proved it by jumping off the bunk beds, splitting open his face, and getting stitches. Clay is energetic.

Brooklyn has expanded her personal menu and now eats seven different foods. She makes amazingly huge messes every day. I can’t believe how fast she’s growing up.

I finished the letter and read the few lines that weren’t crossed out. I looked up. I looked back down at my pathetic excuse for a letter. I crumpled it up and tossed it toward the garbage can. Then I took out a new sheet of paper and scribbled, “Merry Christmas” across the top.

And this is why I don’t write a Christmas letter.

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