The Ninth Annual Boring Mitchell Holiday Letter

Special Celebrity-Scandal-Free Edition!!!

First, I should retract my 2002 remark about the late Michael Jackson's nose and my 2007 insult about his whiteness, but I can't. Now, to those fortunate enough to get a hard copy of this irreplaceable and highly anticipated staple of the season, it may arrive in one of my old letterhead envelopes. Just doing my part for the environment. If you're reading this on your computer and prefer to have it on paper to read aloud as your anxious family gathers around the tree, just right click and hit print. Again this year my few blog fans must tolerate a re-release of some of the better drivel here. This way, not only do I get more mileage out of admittedly great material, but I also avoid putting extra effort into this daunting annual chore.

Our 2009 wasn't as newsworthy as the Beer Summit or as violent as a health care reform town hall, but it wasn't as ho-hum as Chastity Bono's sex change or as insignificant as Jay Leno's so-called farewell, either. The low point was a short family bout of (what I diagnosed as) E. coli. We hope the high point will be keeping swine flu away from our unvaccinated kids. Thanks to a 10-day flu-scare holiday in May (San Antonio rescheduled Cinco de Mayo), Luke and Katy now suffer from hand-sanitizer-induced OCD. They no longer mind the nightly choice between a bleach bath or a Silkwood shower, and they have grown accustomed to my misting them with Lysol as they get off the bus.

Luke, after trying basketball and soccer again with marginal success or enjoyment, started 7th grade and began running cross-country for the track team. It's the first sport our little Forrest Gump has really excelled at since he's built for it and loves being outside. I like it because it's not a contact sport. Unless he runs into a tree. His closet smells like a sporting goods store, his gym bag smells like sweaty mildew, and he now smells like Axe men's body wash. He's still racking up merit badges in Boy Scouts and has camped so much that he can pitch a four-man tent in record time at night in freezing rain blindfolded with both hands tied behind his back. He turned 13 and still coasts through life never letting anything get him down, except when we don't let him order the triple enchilada platter at our favorite Mexican restaurant. He's perfected the art of uttering non sequiturs, and we often have to remind him that we're not in his busy head. Then he makes more sense than the rest of us combined. He's learned that illegible handwriting works to his advantage because, apparently, teachers give him the benefit of the doubt. He'll be starting his second round of braces soon, so it'll be another disappointing Christmas morning at our house this year. And we're proud to report that Luke has finally mastered using a telephone, setting his alarm clock, and peeing in the shower.

Luke's quotes of the year: During his baptism when our pastor asked if he understood what he was doing, "Could you repeat the question?" He got a Bible and was thrilled to discover verses about excrement disposal (Deut. 23:12-13), "This is great advice for Boy Scouts. Scouts are supposed to be reverent." Then he told a friend that it's probably in most Bibles. One windy day, I saw Luke grabbing his crotch (as many males do). I asked, "Afraid it's gonna blow away?" He answered, "No, I got a good hold of it." As Katy choked on a sip of water, "Watch out--that water's got a bit of a kick to it." To an RV salesman, "How tall is this, you know, for clearance purposes at Sonic?" After throwing up at school, "I guess that was a waste of lunch money." And one of my favorites, "I just saw a mutant dragonfly that looked like two in one."

Katy started 4th grade, and thanks to last year's introduction to deodorant, she smells like Teen Spirit. Next year, don't be shocked to hear that both kids had the courtesy to hit puberty at the same time. The first part of the year, she played basketball and soccer, and then decided those involved too much running. So the fall was filled with gymnastics and drama. (A drama class, I mean.) It proved to be both the best outlet and the worst encouragement ever for her still annoyingly (yet always endearing) effervescent personality. She got braces and crossed over from Brownie to Girl Scout on the same day, and in the summer, spent a couple of weeks at different Girl Scout camps. She then made it abundantly clear that she won't go back to camp until they get air conditioning and nicer counselors. Mike and Luke were somewhat envious when her troop went on an overnight field trip to Houston for a NASA tour. I told them I'll take them next year if they'll sell cookies for me. Because Katy fancies herself bilingual, she's taken to addressing me as Madre. She was excited to discover a birthmark on her leg until I wiped it off. I had to explain to her that people don't buy handicapped license plates to use as a show of support. One dreadful afternoon, we endured a traumatic stuffed-animal-purge of her closet after agreeing that the Webkinz could stay, but all the rest were at risk. Finally, we're pleased to announce that our 10-year-old daughter can display a complete repertoire of bar tricks including her newly-discovered hereditary ability to tie a cherry stem with her tongue.

Her quotes of the year: "Luke's body language hurt my feelings!" "If I grew up in the olden days and had slaves, I'd be nice to them. I'd make them do all my chores, but I'd be nice to them." Advice to me for a job interview: "Don’t tell any jokes; don’t embarrass yourself; and don’t say anything unless they ask you a question." After she found a penny, I said, "So? I found a dime." She replied, "There's nothing lucky about dimes." I heard a song on the radio and told the kids I used to have the 45 of it. Both, in unison, asked, "What's a 45?" When Katy opened an envelope of disposable camera pictures, I told her to be careful with the negatives. Sure enough, she asked, "What are negatives?" To the cop after I was stopped for speeding, "I told her she was going too fast." And my favorite, "I wish I could hug you as much as I love you but I'm just not that strong."

Buzz, our erstwhile semi-perfect dog, had the best day of his life last month when he took advantage of our absence to steal a package of raw pork chops from the kitchen counter and proceed to eat them in our unmade bed. (On my new 1000-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, no less.) Then it became the worst day of his life. And just when we thought he could be a legitimate contender for next year's Nobel Peace Prize.

For me, 2009 will be known as The Year I Started Living Someone Else's Life. In January, not long after I had decided to give up law practice, run away to Paris, and be a writer, I was recruited by a statewide law firm to start up their veterans' law department. With some trepidation, I started the job in June. I'm still adjusting to letting others do my clerical work, but I love going to an office every day--except the wearing heels and supportive undergarments part. I took another giant step away from the old me when I devoted my ample spare time to working out with a perky little trainer three times a week. In April I turned 40-ish and Mike and I celebrated at a Bruce Springsteen concert with an arena full of other white geezers. Katy was kind enough to convince me that I'm officially too old to wear short shorts or mini-skirts anymore, so I handed down to her all of my age-inappropriate clothing. I was also forbidden from roller skating or turning flips on the trampoline. My chiropractor said, "Just because you can do it doesn’t mean you should." I took an amazing flight in a tanker to watch Mike refuel his jet. (There's a video on my Facebook wall if you want to see how cool he is.) I went with some girlfriends to Austin to see my favorite band and to Houston to see U2. And I took my usual twice-yearly try-to-act-smart-and-serious business trips to conferences--this time Chicago in May and Charlotte in November. The year also presented me with a unique opportunity to start my new hobby of documenting celebrity deaths to see if they really do come in threes. (They do.) In case you're interested, they're listed in a July entry on my blog. Look for the year-end supplement soon. And after almost four years of living in the country, I finally hit my first deer. Luckily, the accident didn't cause much body damage. To the vehicle anyway.

Mike had a fairly uneventful year seeing as how he only had one overseas deployment and only one rock-star treatment weekend. Aside from his two-week beerfest vacation (with a little air-to-air dogfighting) in the Czech Republic, he and three buddies went to Green Bay for a fly-by at the Vikings game (followed by a limo ride, box seats, and probably a lot of autograph signing). There's a link to the YouTube video of the fly-by on my wall, in case you're still not sure about how cool he is. His other TDYs included trips to Tucson and New Orleans, as well as a month in Laredo one weekend. In November, he was named Commander of the Lone Star Gunfighters 182nd Fighter Squadron. (Again, kind of a big deal.) He'll turn 46 later this month, and has warned me that I'll be eternally sorry if I try to trade him in on two 23-year-olds.

In June, we went on a road trip to spend a week on a houseboat with Mike's family. With a beyond-max-legal-capacity SUV pulling a ski boat, we only had to fill up the gas tank every three or four miles. As the result of a tragic packing error, five kids were stuck with one DVD to watch—Sands of Iwo Jima. They all now know it by heart. The only real mishap occurred when Mike almost put Luke's eye out in a freak stone-skipping accident. I bravely thwarted a snake's attempt to swim onto the boat, then I never got into the water again. Our drive home after a fun and relaxing vacation on what we dubbed Redneck Island was only interrupted when a trailer tire blowout necessitated a somewhat unpleasant two-hour layover in an Arkansas combo beer/bait/ammo/ jewelry and book store. The remainder of our summer included a spur-of-the-moment RV purchase and the installation of a flat screen TV it doesn't deserve. We took the RV to the coast for a family weekend and to a state park for Thanksgiving, and soon decided it was the ideal second home. At least for tax purposes. For our anniversary, we celebrated with a trip to Austin again to watch UT beat OU (again). I got Mike a shirt and he got me a .357 Magnum.

Helpful tips I learned this year: check kids' pockets before doing post-Halloween laundry; water plants more often than quarterly; and don’t cook on a gas stove while wearing a Snuggie. Next year, Mike will spend all of his spare time training me to follow his system and remember which crisper drawer is for fruit and which is for vegetables. Luke will stay busy in the treehouse shooting varmints with his new pellet gun while Katy plays Octomom to her collection of American Girl dolls. I'll have a full schedule all year as I plan to write more and Facebook less, continue to shun Twitter, anticipate Crocs going out of style, understand the attraction of competitive cooking shows, keep Taylor Swift songs out of my head, and teach Mike to change the A/C filters. And I resolve to expend more energy keeping it all together than I do pretending to have it all together.

Several of our relatives and friends had to say some very sad goodbyes this year. While no words can make your holidays feel the same, I hope mine at least could make you smile. And may all of us always remember to stay grateful.

Peace,
Jill, Mike, Luke, & Katy