Sunday, December 5, 2010

Christmas Letter 2010... Hot off the press!

In an effort to both keep it simple and be greener, we have chosen the electronic method of communicating our holiday cheer! We had plans to hit up the copy store today to get the letters and Jackson's artwork copies, following by a drugstore to print the pictures, followed by lots of address-writing and stamp-sticking. I decided on a nap, instead.

Enjoy!



Merry Christmas to all,

There’s one thing I’ve learned in all of the 31 holiday seasons I’ve experienced on this earth: some things get left undone, hence the reason that no one received Christmas cards from the Arthurs last year. Forgive us. This year, Scott has encouraged me to get one out. For being a guy, he TOTALLY loves the annual updates from friends near and particularly ones far.



Let’s start with what’s important… the boys:

Sullivan: Loves water, therefore loves the bath. Loves to be tickled under the neck. Loves carbohydrates (baked goods are his weakness!). Loves anything round and that rolls. Loves blocks and stacking. Hits his brother. Loves music… new favorite dance move: stepping backwards (he thinks it’s so cool). Loves being turned upside down. Refuses to talk: grunts and whines instead. Loves sneaking items in laundry basket, then having Mom discover them (boots, toys, etc) once already in dryer. Loves the thrill of jumping/slipping/falling off of anything elevated. Loves shoes (a fetish, for sure!). Loves playing hide and seek.


Jackson: Loves games. Any game: Candyland, Hi Ho Cherryo, Memory…you name it. Playing games = playing with other people = Jackson is not alone. Loves people and craves that social attention. Loves gymnastics. Petrified of swimming this year, but lessons helped him along. Sweet to his brother (unless getting hit). Loves getting fruit snacks for his success at potty training (#1 = 1 fruit snack #2 = 2 fruit snacks). Loves reading. Loves pretending (again, WITH someone else). Loves preschool and his teachers. Loves playing tennis with his dad and anything else: soccer, basketball… you name it!


Scott and I have been married for six years and – excuse the mushiness – lean on each other/ fall in love with each other more and more with each passing day. This is no new news to any of you, but life is dang hard… and what a joy to stumble through it with each other. We are humbled and scared out of our minds daily by the task of constructing a home and a life and a foundation for our children. Daunting and wonderful. Frightening and sweet. Worrisome and special… such is the stuff of parenting.


Quickly: Scott continues to work at The Mayo Clinic as Major Gift Officer and enjoyed the new adventure of racing in triathlons this summer (you should see him in a wet suit… oo la la!). I am still teaching 6th grade math part time, ran the Chicago marathon on 10-10-10 (qualfied for Boston!), and became a reverend (OK, it was an online click to be able to conduct our cousin’s April marriage ceremony in St. John’s, but I claim the title proudly!)


2010 included the loss of my dad. I wish I could hold tightly to the feeling I feel when I watch someone I love fall ill or pass on: gratitude for life and the preciousness of it. I wish I could keep every moment I am alive real and authentic, wasting no time on the unimportant “junk” of life. I wish I could always ward off fear and insecurity, remembering that I am just as I need to be as long as I am operating in love, resting in that assuredness from God. I know all of these things up close and personal through each of my seasons of loss, and it feels so right that the best way to honor those who have passed is to not let it fade. But I do. We do. Don’t we? Shall we agree to try our best in 2011?


Thank you for all of your love for and care of our family in 2010. We shoot it right back at ya!



Scott, Tricia, Jackson, and Sullivan Arthur







P.S. Enjoy the included artwork of Picasso Jackson. He was very excited to make it for you! [scanner not working... we will include this part whenever we get to it ... read: never]