If we were normal, we would have sent you this picture (doesn't Alex look dashing?) with a cute card telling all the things we've done this year. However, since we are both oddies, we photoshopped the previous post card for fun, and will probably not get around to sending anything out.
I will give a few brief highlights of the year, though, to go with the picture that makes me look like I'm carrying the baby in my thighs in addition to the normal place:
Alex became director of marketing rather than draftsman extraordinaire at work. This was a great boon to me, because he quit coming home and saying things like, "Can I quit my job in the morning?", or "I quit my job today. Just kidding." He still feels stress, but it is eustress, rather than distress. And despite spell check's insistence, dictionary.com confirms that eustress is, in fact, a word. And I believe everything I read on the internet. And I like to start sentences with conjunctions.
I basically hung out around the house all year, watching Grace grow, quilting, watching other people's children, watching Monsters Inc. one thousand three hundred seventeen times, and priming, painting, antiquing, and polyurethaning my dreadful cupboards 'til my heart was discontent and could only be healed by the therapy that is this blog.
Grace has tried to brutally murder my beloved Canon digital Rebel (which Alex gave me after selling his gold watch our first Christmas together,) survived frequent play with her cousin Bam Bam, and kept my kitchen floor glistening with a milky white sheen from her cereal drippings.
So as you can see, we've all been very busy. We wish you all a Holly Jolly Christmas, and all that jazz.
PS. We saw these fabulous guys in concert along with Peter Breinholt (upon whom I will withhold comment), and Sam Payne--a white man who can skat (isn't that what they call that thing where they make a bunch of noises that sound good with the music but make no intelligible sense?) last night, and the concert was sheer delight.