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a sad day

It's official: Leah hates Christmas. It was the cards that put her over the edge, the cards that, shamefully, we still haven't managed to send out. They're printed and in our possession now, but the prospect of another late night writing and addressing all of them was too much. And understandably: late nights have been pretty much the rule rather than the exception around here, and we were more than ready to be done by Christmas itself. Especially since even once we do get to bed there's no guarantee of uninterrupted sleep—far from it!

I don't hate Christmas, though, and if you ask me the cards will be worth the wait. I won't say they're our best ever—in past years we've set a pretty high bar—but they are certainly very cute and feature a record-high level of naked baby. I'll post the images here once all the paper versions are safely sent out; if you want a hard copy yourself let us know and we'll add you to the list. And I'll do the writing and addressing.


It's true, I did mutter "I hate Christmas" but you'll notice I left off the f-word in that sentence, so there's room for me to be even more frustrated. Which is basically to say that I'm doing good.

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