On Monday, we got our first holiday card in the mail from The Husband’s boss.  Since then, the cards have been slowly trickling in and each time we get one, The Husband says to me, “See?  This is cute?  What is it about this that you don’t like?”

Lemme tell ya — I love getting holiday cards.  I have no idea what to do with them once I receive them (I have been plopping them in a basket on top of last year’s holiday cards), but it’s fun to receive mail that isn’t a bill and I enjoy seeing pictures of my friends and family’s families all gussied up. I even love the idea of sending out holiday cards.  Sorting through adorable photos of Mac, toying with the idea of using a family photo, messing around with one layout after another for the actual card — all of that appeals to me.

It’s the money.  And the time addressing envelopes.  And the narrowing down of the mailing list (we invited 400 people to our wedding and the amount of acquaintances we’ve accumulated since then has only grown — I have no interest in reliving that mailing fiasco).  And the money.  Yeah…mostly the money.

The cards are expensive.  The postage is expensive.  My time is expensive (ok, not really, but please humor me).  I told The Husband that if it’s important to him to send out holiday cards, he is MORE than welcome to take that project on himself.  It doesn’t take long for him to change subjects.

So I’m a bad mom.  And a bad wife.  A bad family member.  I’m lazy and curmudgeonly and cheap.  But making these little sacrifices is how I stay sane right now.  Maybe in the future, as our family [hopefully] grows, we’ll start sending out holiday cards.  But right now, it is a commitment I have no interest in taking on.

So don’t bother checking your mailbox for my holiday card this year.  But please know that I’m still thinking of you this season.