Why We Aren’t Sending Out Christmas Cards

If you’ve ever received a Christmas card from our family, you’ll agree with me that they pretty much are the best cards you hang on your wall.  I mean, they are so awesome that some people keep them on their fridge year round.  

Here is the photo we used our first year of marriage.  

For reals.  We got married in August, but I had the foresight to pack a Santa hat in my wedding bag.  That’s the kind of crazy brilliant I am.

And this was last year’s card.  

 

Which is pretty much impossible to beat.  Ever.  The writing on the card was even in lime green. 

This year, I had grand plans to out-do last year’s card.  I  picked out adorable outfits in  navy and black, with pops of red.  Sloan’s Gamecock critter pants were going to be featured.  I selected a gorgeous spot in my parent’s backyard (because they have professional landscapers and we have a mud-pit littered with Little Tykes cars).  I lined up my teenage niece to take the photo as she has a super duper DSLR and is a budding photographer.  

But somehow, in the insanity that was the Thanksgiving holiday at my parents’ house, we never got to take the picture.  We attempted to get a pic by my father-in-law in my in-law’s back yard.  But a) that yard is an explosion of my father-in-law’s extensive bonsai tree collection, b) my in-laws don’t make the silly “look at the camera” noises and faces, so we got a pic of Henry picking his nose and the back of Gracie’s head and then the back of Henry’s head and Gracie picking her nose, and c) I had clearly chosen the wrong option of the three packed that matched the color scheme. Additionally, any person with a brain will tell you that noon is just about the worst time to take an outside photo ever. 

So I’ve been scrambling to find photos for the card.  And it has stressed me out.  Because once I have the photos, then I’ll have to select the card, and at this point, probably pay for fast shipping so I’ll still have time to stuff and address them and then pay half a dollar to send them to you.  And because of our large families and Sloan’s work connections, we usually send out 150 cards.  So it is not an inexpensive endeavor.  And I just can’t seem to rationalize spending $300 or so when that money could be used to bring my kid home from an orphanage.

I asked myself, why am I doing this? Am I sending out a card so that I can say to everyone “Joy to the World, the Lord is Come!  Let earth receive her King!”?  Or am I sending it out so that I can say, “Hey everybody!  Come see how good I look?”  

I must confess, my answer was the latter.  (Oh, and I also want you to see my blog address and follow me on Twitter because I confuse social media stats with my identity as well.)  

It’s a hard pill to swallow.  Because I have a little stack of Phillips family Christmas cards that I’m really proud of.  I mean, how awesome was the one that read “We’re tickled pink this Christmas” as we announced Grace’s arrival into our family?  (That year’s color scheme was pink, cranberry, and green with black and white photos.)  It is clear to me that a considerable chunk of my identity was wrapped up in the awesomeness of our Christmas card.  That is just dumb.  Dumb and sinful.  

So instead, we will attempt to get a good picture of the family this season so that we at least have a family photo this year.  And I can print it out and put it in the stack.  And I’ll post it here, on Facebook, and Twitter in order to wish you a Holly, Jolly Christmas and to say "Let every heart prepare Him room."  But don’t expect one in the mail from us this year.  We will instead be donating $300 to our own adoption fund.  (Which you can too, if you follow the link on the right sidebar.)

That being said, upon the arrival of P3 (aka, the third Phillips kid),  just know I’ve already contacted a professional photographer to do new family portraits.  And we will be really, really, good looking.  We’ll probably wear casual outfits that coordinate but aren’t too matchy-matchy and pose by something quirky and random like a train station or a giant field of weeds at sundown.  We will be laughing in our sweaters.  You will look at our multi-ethnic family, in navy, black and red, and you will think, “Wow.  Who knew “On earth as it is in Heaven” looked a whole lot like a Benetton ad? The wonders of His love, indeed.”