December
3-10, 2019
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D
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ear Friends
and Family,
For 355 days,
writing this letter is one of my favorite things to do in a year. The other ten
days I am actually. Writing. This. Letter. Yesterday, Kyla surreptitiously
timed how long I could go without being interrupted while I worked on this, and
she couldn’t reach 5 minutes without having to reset the stopwatch. Hopefully, it will take you less time to read
the inanity.
Dwayne has conquered
a few “firsts” this year, and I can’t decide which I’m more excited about. In
the first time since he started working at Microsoft almost 23 years ago, Dwayne
has used all his annual vacation! And instead of losing days this year, he lost
almost 50 pounds and he feels (and looks) terrific. We’ve been together 20 years, and this is the
fittest I’ve known him—good thing, since he has to keep up with a rigorous regiment
of tickling and bedtime stalling for all three kids. Over Spring Break, he and Wes tried axe-throwing,
and you can already guess what they built in our side yard last summer. Dwayne
also has been trying to teach all four of us programming; his next project will
be to build a brick wall next to the axe target so that he can conveniently
bang his head as needed. It will be less
trouble.
We have a
teenager now! Kyla-my-Kyla, who has been
grown up for years, turned 13 in September. She is a minimalist with everything
but her digital audiobooks. Steve
Jobs-esque, she has a uniform she has adopted for ease of life—black pants and
red or purple shirt. Being already zen-content, her stocking is a struggle to
fill, or so Santa informs me. At school, she’s enjoying a more challenging
curriculum, but isn’t minding that in March, she will be a middle school drop-out
as we start our world adventure. Kyla
has forgotten to read the Attitude Book for American Teenagers and keeps
our family together with her “okay, breathe, we can do this” approach to
life. Dragons are her spirit animal and the
great outdoors is her happy place.
The toddler
who discovered how to steal rum balls from the top of the fridge now is the
official Christmas cookie maker of the Need household. So far, Piper has made toffee, spritz, and
rum balls, bourbon balls, and, ahem, more rum balls. She also cleans up after herself and starts
dinner while I’m at meetings or driving her siblings around. Now that we’ve
settled our differences about homework expectations (cough, cough, it’s not
optional), our household is rather pleasant. I have learned to distinguish
‘furious silence’ from ‘hateful hush’ and can now understand Pipernese, a
pidgin of English, waterfowl, wombat, and feline. She also has made heaps of knitted stuffed
animals this year by creating her own patterns, and a friend taught her to
crochet. “Dear Santa, Please bring me yarn” was the opening of her annual
letter. I was most proud when she
allowed me to assist her in taking apart the microwave to fix the plate that
stopped rotating. And by bedtime, it was
working again. Not bad for an 11 year old.
Wesley is
certainly my superlative child. Not only
has he been chiefly responsible for many “Worst Day of the Year” awards and
“Most Dramatic Response” meltdowns, but this year he handily won “Most
Terrifying Event” in my parenting life when he disappeared for an hour or so on
a Croatian beach. I’m almost over it, but Dwayne is currently researching GPS
options before our Round the World adventure. Fortunately, Wes’s ability to not
die is strong, as he figured out how to jump off our (ahem, lower) roof safely
last spring and quickly picks up new ways of defying gravity with his
hoverboard and balance ball. Staying
alive has been an extra-useful skill now that he is home schooled and we spend
… a lot … of time together. He also has taught himself to use my tools (though
not to put them away) and between the drill, duct tape, and the woodpile, he
has happily made himself a multitude of weapons and tools.
The cats have
been on the losing end of my wrath (and by extension, Dwayne, because, well,
cats) when they smeared a maggot-filled mouse carcass in Wesley’s bedroom this
fall. Maggot Day is not nearly as fun as a Snow Day for an impromptu school
holiday. I was also not pleased when I opened my oven drawer to find five
pinkies cozied up to their mama among stolen insulation in a muffin tin. Homes with two cats puking in various corners
should not also have mice. And do I really need to hear, “Moooooom, Timmy is
having sexual relations with my blanket again!”? This is the year I realized
I’d rather have a fourth child than another pet.
On my end, I
learned how to love camping again when “Me & 3” went south for a week so
Kyla could do an Oregon Trail living history camp. I read a book a day, the
youngers reveled in the dirt, river, and Minecraft, and Kyla rocked the 1850s. 2019
brought my first traffic ticket in 29 years of driving, and I’m determined not
to wait so long next time. I spent my birthday weekend at the IDA Dyslexia
Conference in Portland, and the highlight was having a hotel room to myself (I
know!) for three nights. This year looks different for me than the past seven
as I disentangled myself from almost all my volunteer and work commitments as
we prepare to go abroad in March, bringing only carry-ons and my mother/teacher/adventurer
hats. There will be blogging!
Also to
prepare us for 16 weeks of travel, Dwayne had the brilliant idea of doing some
“practice trips” this year. We found
ourselves flying to Costa Rica in February and Croatia in August. We threw in
Canada during Spring Break to round out our “Countries that Begin with C” bingo
card. I can’t imagine enjoying anything
more than wandering ancient Roman structures before jumping in the Adriatic
Sea, but we all loved the animals and beaches in Costa Rica. Kyla came up with the FAM (Family Adventure
Motto) on our second day in Costa Rica: With Glee! That pretty much
summed up our attitude while tromping through Central America and Europe.
That is also
our frame of mind as we are in the midst of the Christmas season, as we merrily
eat cookies, light up the tree, count down to Winter Break, and finally,
finally, finally end this letter…
…with
love to each of you.
Denise, for
Dwayne, Kyla, Piper, and Wes
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