So it's that time of year again when we all dig out one or two photos where everyone's hair is kind of brushed and we are all smiling a little or at least looking at the camera and we slap it on the front of an overpriced card and send it out to everyone we know as a representation of our domestic bliss and say "Happy Holidays."
What if instead of sparkly holiday tinsel wrapped visions of a highly photoshopped life, we all got honest instead? And instead of saying "it's been such an amazing year! He played baseball and She was in the school play and they are just such perfect angels," we actually admitted what our lives are really like in these years of young children and not enough money and never ever enough time and chronic exhaustion?
At least at my house, the truth is a halfway house. Half shrieking children, running noses, overcommitments, marital bickering, stop hitting each other!, what's for dinner there's nothing in the fridge because no one went grocery shopping. Half deep deep love, perfectly curly ringlets, working it out, growing together, grateful to be here even when we are four people not-quite-sleeping together in a queen sized bed.
What if the messages on our holiday cards were more like this: She is extremely cranky and making monster faces, He has dried crusty yogurt on his shirt and some serious dreds forming in the back, we haven't been out on a date in far too long and are starting to drive each other nuts. What if we wrote the truth: we're trying our best, there are glimpses of light and many days of dark, and man oh man this is hard. Do any of you nice people receiving this card want to babysit sometime?