Christmas Letter 2015

How to give voice to a full year in just a page or two of text? For me, that is part of the joy of writing a Christmas letter—to discover what stands out, what sets this year apart. For 2015 the big challenge was in thinking of anything that doesn’t stand out. Because we all decided to do a bunch of crazy new things. And did I mention crazy?

In January Kip started a course to become a real estate agent as a part-time job. We had our rentals and are interested in houses so it seemed like a natural step, which hasn’t made it an easy step. In March he got his real estate license and we got six new ducks. Kip decided to build an impenetrable fortress for them, including small pond with pump and rocky stream because—why not—he had nothing else to do like his 4000 jobs and family and rentals and church calling. Strangely, I think he kind of missed the work of building the pen when it was done, but he has made good use of the stream and pond as a sitting spot and we sure love those weird little ducks. This fall we bought our first house to flip and have been working on it (and hiring other people to work on it) so we can hopefully get it on the market in January.

Mark decided to become a teenager and go to Junior High this year, which I consider completely unacceptable. Where is my little Gerber baby with his fluff of hair? A few weeks ago, I gave him a hug and happened to smell his head and—teenagerhood be darned—that hair smelled just like it had when he was a baby and for a minute time collapsed and I remembered his sweet little head and realized that this was the same kid. Mark has actually enjoyed junior high more than elementary school (so apparently that can actually happen). This doesn’t mean he loves school, but he likes the autonomy and the touches of freedom. He’s in the choir and joined a rock climbing league (not through school), which he loves and which keeps him from lying supine all day long reading or listening to music (or—let’s not lie—sometimes playing video games). He loves fantasy novels and The Piano Guys. I think his taste in music, books, and humor are fantastic—mature but not dull. Mark and I laugh together. A lot. And snuggle—sometimes to the point of him crushing me.

Elizabeth is in 5^th grade. While Mark has to be nudged out of his comfort zone, Elizabeth frequently dives out—trying different things, not afraid to fail. This year she’s in band and choir and an editors group at her school. She tried out for volleyball and student council and didn’t get into them, which she found disappointing, but hardly crushing. This is one of my favorite things about her—she moves ever forward, acknowledges defeat without letting it consume or control her. She’d becoming an excellent pianist despite a rocky start 4 ½ years ago. She’s diligent and consistent and it’s beautiful to see it rewarding her as a talent develops. She comes home from school, does her chores, piano, and thirty minutes of exercise, and is the only child of mine whom I don’t have to remind to do anything. She loves laughing and reading and is my only natural night owl.

Savannah will tell you the truth, so don’t ask her unless you want to know. She speaks her mind and has a quirky sarcastic-without-trying-to-be-sarcastic way about her. She turned eight this year and got baptized into our church. She’s in second grade and thinks and learns in a way different than me. She’s very logical and concrete. She is the only one of our children that tends to favor non-fiction over fiction, is very interested in how things work (and why), and loves crafts. She is also—and always has been—one to decide to do something, and then to do it. Lately, she’s been focusing on learning to do splits, and every day I find her splayed on the floor, trying to get an inch lower than she was the day before. She has the longest hair in the family and is proud of that fact.

Emma—lovely Emma—started kindergarten this year. She was both the most prepared of my children and the least. The first month was rough with a lot of tears and clinging embraces when I thought she would be the kid to bound into school and not look back. Thanks to a kind teacher, the adjustment came. And Emma is a whiz with school. She’s picked up on her numbers and letters super speed and always comes home quoting things her teacher has taught her. She seems to enjoy patterns in math and reading in a way I find fascinating (and can kind of relate to). She LOVES counting and will just count and count and count until she can’t go any higher, and then she’ll often start again. She also loves letters and words and loves copying words and phrases and then puts them together on her own. She adores her teacher—Mrs. Birchler, and pronounces her name with three syllables—Birch-e-ler, which I think is cute.

As for me—with the departure of all four of my children to school—I went through the biggest life change I’ve experienced since Mark was born 13 years ago. I knew this change was coming and felt much like I’d felt going to college—a whole world of possibility opening her arms to me with the same thrill of freedom  and the same pressure not to choose poorly and waste it. Eventually (with the super support of my husband), I decided to give my writing a strong go. Which sounded so artsy fartsy that I felt a little guilty with my choice. But not as guilty as I felt when my kids went off for their first week of school and I got NO extra writing done. I realized there was still laundry and shopping and church callings and health and cleaning for heaven’s sake—jobs I hadn’t minded when my kids were home, but which felt maid-like and unfulfilling without my kids. So those first few weeks I had a small crisis and complained and wondered how I could ever find purpose in a trip to the store without a child by my side or satisfaction in an unloaded dishwasher without somebody acting like a cat crawling around my legs (yeah—boohoo for me, I know some women dream about this sort of thing, but it made me sad and that’s the truth). And then I rebalanced and re-ordered my days and eventually started to get a lot more writing done (usually). And then just a few weeks ago, my book won a contest with Ink Smith Publishing—first prize being publication. I’m over the moon and also, well, nervous.

So you can see that there’s been a lot of change in our lives this year—several failures (which I didn’t dwell on in this letter—sorry) and several successes. Throughout this year of ups and downs, I’m grateful to know there’s been a steady hum of laughter and conversation, being together and loving each other—the solid points in between the highs and lows that I believe really build a life. I’m grateful this year to my family and my God.

Merry Christmas! Love—The Paces