Christmas 2008

Detroit and Wall Street aren’t the only places begging for a bailout this year. The Seefried clan is right there with them! We have first dibs on Change too.

Sure, maybe we shouldn’t have been surprised…it’s not like Kris hasn’t changed her mind before…4 years ago her room was plastered with posters of half-dressed rap singers. Now she’s in love with a Westpointer who is actually whiter than she is. She headed to Villanova to study business, I mean education, I mean nursing. Yup, the child who has come closest to an “assault on a nurse” conviction is going to BE a nurse! Can you say Karma? What’s another semester or two. She also has joined a sorority. I wonder what will happen if she treats her new sisters like she treats her old sister…

Will’s tuition went from zero to 60 faster than you can say “actors don’t make much”. In keeping with the campaign theme this year, he changed schools, cities, and animal phobias. Ever since his encounter with a friendly squirrel on a park bench in NYC, mice are a breeze. Senior Year hoopla characterized the earlier half of Will’s year. That and an epidemic of T-Ping houses. Including ours. Twice. Apparently this is a sign of affection. Boy, did I feel loved.

Remember how last year’s letter talked about how happy Kev was at his new school? We lied. We bailed him out 3 weeks after last year’s letter was mailed. He is now back at Fountain Valley in Colorado Springs and as content as any sixteen- year- old boy can be. He currently holds the title for most expensive sophomore year in history. Kev spent the summer scooping at Cold Stone but somehow managed to drop 25 lbs. Sorry, but no, I don’t know her name.

In the most bittersweet story of 2008 , our little Nicki bailed on childhood. She left for camp a sweet-talking, guitar-playing, parent–pleasing thirteen-year-old. When I picked her up (in the middle of flippin’ nowhere) 2 and a half weeks later…the boys were ‘smokin’, the music was ‘jammin’ and Carlie from Alabama had taught her how to ‘cuss’ in several octaves. Fourteen was only a few weeks away and I was experiencing a severe case of déjà vu…

Our biggest struggle this holiday is Cam’s daily change of list for Santa. He has definitely decided…that he can’t really decide. Which might lead to a new role for Santa in ‘Bi-Polar Express’. In our most recent attempt to win the “worst parent of the year award” (we long ago bailed on best), Cam is an avid member of Facebook and connoisseur of YouTube. We’re tired, okay???

Speaking of YouTube, you can catch Phil on there in a ‘Death of Credit’ speech that was spookily accurate. Fortunately, he did not have this revelation about the market before he had bought me my long-coveted…and long-denied BAYHOUSE ! (in Stone Harbor). Our very own. With a boat. I am a very happy camper. And the best part is, that everyone else is too. Including Phil. Even tho’ we are now more broke than GM (and even tho’ my brother and I outscored him on the boating license test). Tee-hee.

I wish I had bailed from my bike 10 seconds earlier when I hit a rough patch in Stone Harbor last August. My road-burned face was a frightening sight for the upperclassmen helping Kris and Will move into their respective colleges the next day. Unfortunately a broken wrist and finger didn’t make me much help. Never one to accept the glass as half empty, it didn’t take me long to master the left-handers corkscrew. Thank God, we finally got Phil cleared of the abuse charge … right around the time my cast came off.

With the financial world crumbling around us, I’m preparing for the potential of Phil needing a bailout too. Let’s face it folks, I may have to become the breadwinner. It’s OK; just between us, I have a plan. No kidding. I am now the proud owner of my very own domain. For you lucky female friends who are over 40, look for Midchix.com this spring. Think Facebook for the 40+ crowd (girls only, sorry guys!). And if you are not over forty…fear not…you will be. ☺

On that note, let us end with heartfelt wishes to you and yours for a warm, wonderful, gratitude-filled holiday.

Peace on earth, goodwill to all,

Gretchen, Phil, Kris, Will, Kev, Nicki and Cammy!

Christmas 2007

Once upon a time there was an application. Actually there were 21 applications (if you don’t count summer camps). Applying to college is a life-altering experience. Phil’s life has been permanently altered. He can answer in 250 words or less any personal question about any topic that any college might ask any applicant (or any applicant’s father).

Meanwhile, I am now on a first name basis with the admissions directors at several east coast boarding schools….none of which Kevin actually applied to because who would go to a school with Saturday classes and a dress code? *
We should have known that we were headed for application hell when 10 minutes after I returned from a six–day, three-state, five-school college reconnaissance trip with Will and his buddy Eric, Kristen’s 15 applications were due. An hour later, Kevin called from his previously wonderful boarding school in Colorado Springs to say “I think I might want to transfer…” “Oh, ok. When are applications due?” “Yesterday.” “Oh good.”

Funny. Will’s applications for pre-college summer programs (a must for any self-respecting musical theatre major) were also due that week.

For any of you who have not yet fully experienced the application process, it’s important to note that it is often followed by a period of euphoria (the ^%#@ forms are finished), then by a period of depression (I’ll never get in), and then by a period of smugness (I was right! I didn’t get in), followed by a slow dawning of hysteria (my life is over), and then pitiful justification (I didn’t want to go there anyway!), finally punctuated by shameless begging at the admission director’s doorstep.

And lo and behold…it worked. Kristen did in fact beg her way into the school of her choice. Kristen is now a happy… I repeat happy - (yes, thank God, puberty is finally over, at least for one of them) - freshman at Villanova. And I am one happy mama…as my big brother (who used to send my dates screaming into the night) lives just a mile from her dorm ☺

Meanwhile, Kev is just one state away at Peddie School in NJ (*despite the Saturday classes and the dress code!). We are still scratching our collective heads trying to figure out how the Rockies, who had never even made the play-offs in the seven years we’ve lived in Denver, suddenly end up in the World Series when Kev is 2000 miles away! We are also trying to figure out how we got bamboozled into flying him home for two of the games. Lucky for us when he was on the flight back to school AND in the depths of depression (while we were taking out a second mortgage to pay for his trip), he happened to sit next to the father of Dan O’Dowd, the Rockies GM, who was also in the depths. Misery loves company.

Also in the news: Will was stalked by squirrels - one in the laundry room right next to his bathroom, and the other plastered against the screen window in his little bedroom scratching his evil paws only inches from Will’s head (according to Will). Many of you may not know that Will suffers from severe post-traumatic stress disorder after an encounter with a rabid squirrel when he was a preschooler! To add insult to injury, just last month a nosy parker mouse decided to visit the powder room at the same time that Will was taking care of some important business. Talk about a story! We have made an executive and unanimous decision to spare you the details of that encounter. We have also temporarily hidden the squirrel ornament that Kristen lovingly gave Will last Christmas.

Cameron has had some momentous events this year…he tackled the blue runs at Breckenridge; learned the f word; moved to a new school which he calls “Waldork”; asked to use the f word; got glasses; protested when we said he couldn’t use the f word; mastered a 2-wheeler; used the f word anyway; played Head Guard to Nicki’s Aladdin in at DU’s summer theater workshop; asked what the f word meant; took up violin; found out what the f word meant; giggled.

With Nicki now a teen, we are completely outnumbered. But the biggest issue since she turned 13 has been that I am sick and tired of going to 7th grade! This is my fourth time in six years. Folks, it’s getting old! Could we please get some new projects?! Please! No more family trees, name essays, models of rocks, Africa Days. Couldn’t we have Iowa Day? The study of Rice Krispies and what makes them snap crackle pop? Family Feuds? Or as Cam would say: “Sweet Niblets”! Let’s change it up!

My year seemed to be devoted to an inordinate amount of fundraising…something that I swore I’d never do. In the past twelve months I have asked, begged, cajoled, bullied, and nearly panhandled to the point where my friends cringe when I call, write or email. Who knows? This Christmas card may be a cleverly disguised appeal… When I’m not fundraising, I am planning to fundraise, being talked into fundraising or profusely thanking those poor slobs who I have succeeded in fundraising from. But poor slobs take heart…my New Year’s Resolution is NO MORE FUNDRAISING! (at least not after the end of Kempe’s fiscal year…).

Phil was a trooper last winter when his ski plans turned to shoveling strategies following his embarrassing knee injury at the hands of then-16-year-old Will. (See last year’s letter for more details). He continues to be top-dad in all of our books…writing (oops I mean editing) essays, buying dozens of black sox for auditions, scoring prime world series tix, playing golf with up & coming Nic, and learning every song to High School Musical 2. Not to mention hosting or supporting at least a dozen Kempe events….how did we get so lucky? Good thing he is kind of annoying-otherwise he’d be too good to be true.

As for the two of us, we celebrated 20 years of wedded bliss on August 8th. Why on earth would we think that climbing to the top of the highest peak in Breckenridge would be a good way to celebrate? Were we each trying to kill the other guy? Pretty clever…must be a subconscious result of too much Law & Order.

Other highlights of our year include Nicki’s fainting spell during her moment of glory as the sixth grade queen at the Graland knighting ceremony; Cam giving me the nickname of Oldilocks on my 46th birthday; Phil leaping out of the open MRI machine despite the severe knee injury it was evaluating, and Kev’s e-mail that asked how I was.

And this just in: Will was accepted at NYU’s Tisch School!!! So next year we will have three of our clan back east. It may be time to renew our EZ Pass.

We hope that you and your loved ones had lots of memorable moments this year too! Please join us as we continue to pray for our troops and their families.

Happy Holidays and best wishes for a great New Year with love from all of us,
Gretchen, Phil, Kris, Will, Kev, Nicki, and Cam

Christmas 2006

Highlights from our 2006 Budget

Instead of writing our usual letter this year, we decided to entertain you with some of the more sordid details of our annual budget. But before you analyze the financial data contained in the attached memo, it may help to review these notes:

We decided to sell our New York house so that we could buy a ski house in Colorado. We bought a ski house. We furnished the ski house. We paid a lawyer to set up a tax shelter that required us to rent aforementioned ski house. We hired a real estate agent to rent ski house. We had lots of people ask to rent ski house. We decided that we didn’t really want to rent ski house. We paid a lawyer to disassemble the tax shelter. We didn’t sell our NY house. We spent a lot of money fixing up the NY house. We still didn’t sell the NY house. We paid lots of taxes on both houses.

We said a bad word.

We took the family to Disneyland. We met every Disney princess. Each princess apparently had a secret for each other princess. Cameron was lucky enough to be the chosen secret carrier. We spent most of our time in Disneyland trying to find whichever princess the secret of the day was for. They were some expensive secrets.

The rest of the time we spent driving to Hollywood for lunch.

While driving to Hollywood for lunch, Cam had to pee. Cam “I have to pee”. Phil: “I can’t pull over here. Someone give him a water bottle.” Me: “You want him to pee in a water bottle?” Phil: “Sure, I used to do it all the time.” Me: “You used to pee in a water bottle?” Phil: “Yeah, all guys do…hey, Willie, climb to the back and help Cam ‘steer the ship.’” Will: “No way Dad, I love Cam, but there is no way that I’m going back there to help him ‘steer the ship’.” Nicki: “Eww, move over, I’m climbing up front”. Kevin: “I’m not helping him….ouch, Nicki you’re stepping on me”! Cam: “I unzipped my pants”. Phil: “Ok, put it in the water bottle”. Me “You want him to put it IN the water bottle??”
Phil “Sure, I used to do it all the time.” Cam: “Ok, I put it in the bottle.” Me: “You used to put in a water bottle!?” Cam, gleefully: “I’m peeing!” Phil: “Good job. Be careful…don’t spill---hey Will get back there and make sure he doesn’t spill” Will: “Sorry Dad, no way.” Cam: “Oops, it spilled!” Phil: “Damn!” Me: “You used to put it IN a water bottle?” Phil: “Actually, maybe it was a Gatorade bottle”…

Kristen said “Mom, you were right.” She did. I swear. Last night. Of course, then she asked for money. And a new dress. When Kris and Phil college-tripped from Maryland to Florida last spring break, they played a game in which the object was to put the ugliest people you saw on the other person’s team before they could put them on yours. Nice father-daughter bonding experience, eh? We’ve worked hard on helping Kristen develop this empathetic, non-judgmental, ‘beauty is more than skin-deep’ view of the world. Maybe you’d like Kris to teach your kids how to play.

At the ripe old age of 14, Kev decided that he’d had enough of us. In late August, he headed to school in Colorado Springs without a backwards glance. Despite our fervent hopes that this boarding experience would develop his sense of personal responsibility and hygiene…on Parents Weekend we were dismayed to find that he still decorates his room with dirty socks, crumpled boxer shorts and empty Gatorade bottles…hmm… must be a father/son thing. When he arrived home for Thanksgiving break his duffel was filled with wet clothes. “I didn’t have enough quarters for the dryer.” he claimed. While in many ways, he is still our same old Kev…sleeping ‘til noon, speaking in monosyllables, and worshiping junk food; there are also signs of a new Kev: one who runs up mountains, pumps iron, and kind of hugs his sister when visiting home.

Will’s acting career continues to play havoc with the family calendar and budget. We’ve been forced to pay cancellation fees for rescheduled vacations, flights and elective surgeries as well as to lie to teachers, directors, airlines, doctors, and probably some family members as a result of conflicts between simultaneous rehearsals and performances. When we told his vocal director that Nicki had broken her arm in order to get Will to another performance on time…I thought that we had sunk as low as we could go. But no. When he called to challenge us, and I ended up challenging him for challenging us (mind you, her arm was as good as new); I knew then that it was all over. I had become a stage mother. God help us all.

Nicki’s music interests continue to command a good chunk of our lesson dollars. She is currently the proud owner of an acoustic guitar, an electric guitar, an electric bass, a French horn, and a noisy parakeet named Doc. The high points of her year include the 7:00 AM rendition of “Happy Puberty Day to You” sung to her by her father on the morning of the sacred yet dreaded film…”Just around the Corner”. Also figuring high on the memorable moments list was our end of year party for 58 of her closest and most hormonal fifth grade friends…which culminated with Phil dunking one of the worst offenders into the basketball hoop.

After putting his back out last Christmas, Phil swore that he was going to get in shape. And get in shape he did. Between his personal trainer, my chiropractor, his golf instructor, my muscle activation therapist, his chiropractor, my pilates instructor, his muscle activation therapist, and my new treadmill, we have reduced the heft of his wallet by over 60%!

When my “Girls Weekend” in April was followed by a 5 day all-female canoe trip in September, rumor has it that there was some mild to moderate concern about the direction that my midlife crisis was taking me. When word got out that I was chaperoning the 2006 Colorado State Lesbian Convention last week in downtown Denver, all hell broke loose. “I SAID THESPIAN---- NOT LESBIAN”! I clarified.

There was a collective sigh…”phew”

The Actual Budget

Cost of ski house-Don’t ask. It must be at the top of the bubble if we are buying.

Cost of furniture-budget zero. But we bought the only unfurnished house in Breck.

Cost of lawyer-many thousands. Value added: zero.

Cost of cork screws-$500. Sounds high but we never want to be unprepared.

Cost of cancelled spring break flights-our integrity. Bald-faced lies without hesitation.

Cost of 7 photos of Cam with Disney Princesses-$10,000 (not including lunch with Ariel).

Cost of rental car damage charge after water bottle incident -Zero. We blamed it on a dog.

Cost of adding two drivers to our family insurance policy-precisely $4968 for starters.

Cost of adding two cars to our parking lot-about the same as our monthly Conoco bill.

Cost of paying out of pocket repairs for teen drivers’ fender benders to avoid even higher insurance policy-anybody know a place where we can get volume discounts? (Kevin gets his permit in April!)

Cost of Gretchen’s midlife crisis: new hair color, 45th birthday party, new hair color, low rise pants, new hair color, more expensive wine, new hair color, 5 day canoe trip, new hair color, registration fee for state lesbian convention….

Cost of Phil’s midlife crisis: cowboy boots, golf lesson, new sunglasses, golf lesson, personal trainer, golf lesson, teeth whitening, golf lesson, torn MCL resulting from wrestling match with 16 year old son, cancelled golf lesson, upgrade to first class to accomodate injury, therapy for depression resulting from cancelled golf lesson.

Enough about us, what about you?

Wishing you a healthy and happy holiday along with an financially uneventful New Year!
Please pray for our troops and for those in need around the world.

Much Love,
Cam, Nicki, Kevin, Will, Kris, Gretchen & Phil
(Cam was tired of being last)

Christmas 2005

The Seefried Family Personal Ads (Christmas 2005)

MWM (45) seeks personal assistant to pay bills, uncork wine, organize battery drawer, and listen to repetitive golf stories;
MWF (44) seeks travel agent with medical background and taxicab;
SWF (16) seeks life of 26 year old including no rules, no curfew, steady paycheck;
SWM (15) seeks talent agent. Must own bakery or candy store;
SWM (13) seeks hit man to off David Ortiz
SWF (11) seeks (hot) members for band. Especially bass player (must be very hot!);
SWM (6) seeks introduction to Cinderella, but will settle for any Disney princess!

Now that our household consists of three teens, a pre-teen, and a six-year-old teen wannabe, everything is personal. We have so many hormones raging the Denver police have designated a new crime category “Home Rage”. That is the charge when anyone reacts so strongly to someone eating the last cookie that they try to kill them. It also covers reactions to whistling, singing, staring, saying hi to your brother’s friend, touching anyone’s anything, or asking “how was your day?”

Travel was the name of the game in 2005…collectively we logged enough miles on United to be awarded our own flight attendant (but she ate the last pack of peanuts, so we had to kill her).

In January, after years of trying to convince me to go “South of the Border”, Phil finally got his wish …sort of… and we headed to Mexico for a long weekend in January. It was a memorable trip in the way that most trips to Mexico are memorable. Enough said.

On February 1st, I flew to NY to surprise Kris for her sweet 16. Over the course of her sixteenth year she has ingested 563 slices of pizza, made 492 calls to complain, bemoaned her lack of money on 358 separate occasions, blamed someone else for everything 216 times, watched 197 episodes of Law & Order, used 12,597 cell phone minutes and logged at least 25,681 frequent flyer miles between DIA and LaGuardia.

March found us in San Francisco where Phil was shocked and dismayed to find (in an elevator with a mirrored ceiling of all places) that we weren’t kidding about his bald spot. The other people on the elevator were pretty shocked and dismayed themselves as apparently they had never seen a grown man cry.

Will continues to consume significantly more than one-fifth of my driving hours, our performing arts funds, and the family food supply. Since January, his roles have run the gamut from a Roman teenager competing with his father for the beautiful blonde (a mid-life fantasy for many dads we know) to a childless baker on a mission to steal Red Riding Hood’s cape! He also acted like a pretty convincing innocent bystander when he and friend Eve got picked up by cops while walking to the grocery store at 2AM…what??...they were hungry.

Kevin’s life dream came true last summer, when Phil and he flew to Detroit (glad that wasn’t my life dream) for three days of MLB All-Star mania. Kev came home with enough baseball paraphernalia to open his own stadium. Come September, he got a free make-over when several of Will’s female pals decided to update Kev’s look. Our clothing budget is now shot as he is no longer happy in old Yankee shirts and hand-me-down jeans. Along with his new appearance, Kev has developed an attitude…as well as a social life. His first big coed party somehow managed to coincide with parents’ weekend at Masters. I’m still not sure which one of us drew the short straw…but try to picture Phil and Will playing chaperone to 40+ thirteen and fourteen year olds… in our basement and on a mission.

Nicki is a savvy eleven year-old who dreads the hallmark of fifth grade…“Puberty Day”. Seeing that puberty has been the hallmark of our household since the turn of the millennium, it shouldn’t be that traumatic! Nicole has been testing the performance waters alongside Will, and was pretty cool last summer as a Thunderbird in Grease! This week she debuted as Granny in Into the Woods. If anyone had ever told me that I’d pay ten bucks (eight times) to see my daughter eaten by a wolf…and then cut out of the wolf’s stomach by her brother, the Baker, I never would have believed them…Nick has also been seen jamming around some Denver dives on her electric guitar. She is asking Santa for two monster cables, a special effects pedal and a parakeet. Guess we’ll have to soundproof her room…

Cameron. When he was one, I thought it was ‘fun’. When he was two, I thought ‘almost through’. When he was three, I thought ‘God help me’. When he was four, I thought ‘this is a chore’. When he was five, I thought ‘bury me alive’. But now he is six…and loving and clever…I hope he stays six forever and ever! His favorite activities include the monkey bars, spin art and Camrox727@yahoo.com (his new e-mail address…he’d LOVE to hear from you)!

As for Phil and me, well…we just do our best to keep smiling, drinking and playing one, two, three shoot to see who wins the late night rehearsal pick-up or the early morning coffee run. We’ve decided to sell the NY house and dig deeper into Denver…maybe a mountain house some day? We’d love to see you here or on the Jersey shore when we head East for July. Any interest in renting the Stone Harbor house in June or August, let us know!

This year we continue to pray for our troops and their families, as well as for all of those uprooted by Katrina and Rita.

We wish you peace, joy, health, and happiness!
With Love, Gretchen, Phil, Kris, Will, Kevin, Nicole & Cameron

Christmas 2004

We’re off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz…

On this occasion of the 10th anniversary of our annual Christmas treatise, I was briefly tempted to simply re-issue the original letter in a fancy envelope and leave it at that. But now that even Cameron knows how to spell “cop out”, I was forced to reconsider. Finding a theme was the next conundrum. As we drew straws for who got stuck with the late night pick-up from Will’s “Oz” rehearsals, I was inspired. While I had every intention of casting myself as Glinda, the good witch, the rest of the family seemed to think that I more closely resemble her wicked sister (I have to admit, green is one of my favorite colors)!

West Palm Beach resembled the land of Oz last Christmas… ten days after we moved (and about ten minutes after I mailed last year’s letter) we headed to Florida to spend the holidays with Phil’s family. 14 munchkins, oops, I mean cousins, crammed into a family room built for 4, vying for presents, candy canes and Grandma’s undivided attention. It was all worth it! Except for maybe the midnight fire alarm in our hotel …

Follow the yellow brick road… we actually did it… for 28 hours of middle-aged mom/teenage daughter/teenage son bonding along I-70 eastbound enroute to the Jersey shore. While Kristen looks cute in braids…somehow it’s hard to picture her as an innocent from Kansas. After eight hours of highway with little more to look at than billboards “TRIPLE XXX ADULT STORE… SEX TOYS HALF-PRICE” and truckers who dared to pass her:“Where the ^%#$#$^do you think you are going?!! I could take you$%&%*^!!”…Will and I breathed a sigh of relief when we crossed over the bridge into Kansas City, Missouri and saw actual two-story buildings. Civilization at last!

Now that Kris is a boarder at The Masters School in NY, the only thing she really wants from the wizard is MONEY... “you guys are so naïve to think that a person can get by on $50 a week in NY. Things are really expensive here!!” (Mind you, we lived there ourselves for over 13 years and, by the way, EVERYTHING she eats , sleeps, and breathes is already paid for)!

Will really feels like he has made it to the Emerald City. He started his fourteenth year with a surprise trip to Vegas with Phil. In two and a half days they managed to ride the rollercoaster at New York, New York 34 times. (Phil had vertigo for weeks) Though he played the Tinman last month, there is little need for a new heart; Will’s summer theatrics involved two passionate kissing scenes in Oklahoma! out on the Jersey shore. This was closely followed by an early August start at his new high school, Denver School of the Arts. When I asked about his Halloween costume plans, he replied “Mom, at DSA every day is Halloween.” He is asking the wizard for a chance to re-do those kissing scenes now that his braces are off!

Though Kevin had to search for enough courage to face the dreaded Red Sox fan bandwagon at school this fall, he is more committed than ever to becoming the Yankees GM. Every morning he regales us with obscure baseball statistics from the sports pages. A 7th grader now, he is showing the faintest glimmer of attitude, but still good-naturedly endures limitless abuse from Cameron (who loves to scream “Go Red Sox!” whenever he sees Kevin). Now the oldest Seefried at Graland, he has adjusted well to the role of protector. On the roller rink, he was a regular Dave Schulz, leading the league in penalty minutes. Kevin is asking the wizard for Randy Johnson, straight As, tickets to the next World Series, a lifetime supply of fudge along with an out-of-state adoptive family for Cameron.

Nicole is starting down the yellow brick road of theater too. After playing Harriet the Spy in June, she was a chorus member in Oklahoma (the better to see Will’s kissing rehearsals!), and recently landed a part as the balloon girl in a local high school production of Gypsy! A real renaissance gal, she continues with piano, voice, guitar, soccer, girl scouts and basketball. A developing hoopster she scored 17 points in her first game this fall after being basketless all summer! She is asking the Wizard for an electric guitar, Spongebob slippers, a dog like Toto, and a perpetual playdate with Faye or Cecilia.

While he campaigned early on for the role of Glinda, Cameron is kind of like our own personal munchkin -way too wise for his size. This year, after outgrowing his wheat allergy he discovered the #1 vehicle for sugar, doughnuts with icing and sprinkles. He was hooked. A kindergartener now, he loves to write letters to one and all. One of our favorites: Dear Kris, I hat you! Love Cameron. He plays a mean game of rock, paper, scissors (cheats every time) and is on a personal mission to keep Wendy’s in business. When his dad took him out for the ultimate father/son model rocket-launching experience, he ran screaming into the night and it was weeks before he forgave Phil who he now refers to as “Rocket Boy”.

Speaking of Phil, he’d be willing to endure flying monkeys, jitterbugs, lions, tigers and bears and even ten more years with the wicked witch if only the Wizard would give him “the perfect swing”. Yes, golf is still his main obsession. He thought he’d landed in Oz last summer when he traveled to Doonbeg, Ireland for the ultimate guy’s guy golfing/drinking extravaganza. Rumor has it his partner Matt and he drank enough Guinness to finance the Guiness advertising budget:brilliant! But he arrived home intact and with another “exquisite” crystal bowl for the mantel and a big smile on his face.

Somewhere over the rainbow…I’m actually there. I discovered the pot of gold-otherwise known as full-day kindergarten. After almost 16 years on the afternoon play date circuit. I am a free woman. Time alone is heavenly…one day I actually sat down (and it wasn’t in the car).

Dorothy was right, there really is no place like home…note the singular…yes, after 13 long months we finally sold the nightmare on Elm Street. Though our Irvington house is still in our real estate holdings, at least we don’t have to shovel there!

The lowest point of the year came in early August when we lost our beloved niece Betsy to Batten Disease. She touched hundreds and hundreds of people during her far too brief life and she is terribly missed. We are so grateful for the years we had with her and for her extraordinary family Chris, Kim, Kate, Courtney, and Dougie. We pray for them and for all the families who are missing a loved one this holiday.

Wishing you and yours happiness, health and peace in the New Year…

Or as Cameron would say “Feliz Navidad, Aloha!”

Christmas 2003

To friends and family near and far,

Every year around the third week of November (just as merchants are setting up displays of Valentine’s candy), I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach which I optimistically attribute to the flu. I moan awhile, sigh a lot, curse out loud and try to figure out how long until the next person will throw up, how long until the last person will throw up, and how many loads of laundry will be involved in between those two events.

After a while of not throwing up, I decide to eat a few squares of ready-made cookie dough because, just in case I do throw up, it won’t really count. After a day or two I remember what is actually causing that sick feeling in my stomach…it’s time to write the annual Christmas letter. So I eat the rest of the ready-made cookie dough (all eighteen squares), drink a bottle of wine…okay maybe two… and here we go!

Christmas 2003: The Top Ten Reasons Why It’s Time For A Midlife Crisis

Reason #10: You’re the first one asleep on New Year’s Eve despite the fact that it’s only 7 o’clock Denver time, you’re at a Jamaican resort with lousy (but free) wine on every corner, and even eight year-old Nicki is ringing in the New Year ala Jimmy Buffet. Yes, we took the family away last year. An all-inclusive deal, or as Phil says, "all you can fit under your spandex", i.e. fat people with spray tans, false boobs, and multiple tattoos. Think Disneyworld partially clothed. The kids LOVED it; we were glad to get home.

Reason #9: In the space of a single week you’re mistaken for Cameron’s grandmother, asked if your children are all grown, and told that you look just like your mother.

#8: Your mother turns seventy.

Reason #7: Your husband begins primping more for his golf lessons with “Craig” than he does for date night with you. “ Do you think this golf shirt make me look fat?” Yes the obsession continues, but has reached new heights. Practice hours are up…as is his handicap. But he's happy as a girl with her first crush.

Reason #6: At your 20th college reunion, the kids offer to give up their allowance if only you don’t make them wear the free purple cow t-shirt.

Reason #5: When you walk into class on the first day of “going-back-to-school-for-an-art degree” the other students think you’re the instructor, listen to the same (horrifying) music as your kids, and mistake your crow’s feet for cool facial tattoos.

Reason #4: As you prepare to catch a flight to Maui for your first no-kids vacation in six years, your thirteen year-old son slaps you on the back with the advice “ practice safe sex”. This one hurt. By the way is sleeping considered “safe sex”? If so, we were fine.

Reason #3: Your dependable ketchup-loving, shower-shunning , hockey pad-smelling, comb-resisting, girl-hating eleven year-old asks you to pick him up some deodorant.
This is like a shift in the power of Congress. The ones that sweat are now in the majority. We are doomed.

Reason #2: Your four year old’s favored form of greeting is “Nice Butt, Dude” and he’s greeted by the girls at Starbucks as if he were Norm on Cheers. “CAMERON!!!” It gets better, he proceeds to order a triple venti non fat latte. When he pulls exact change out of his backpack, I’m retiring!

And Reason #1: …the number one reason why it’s time for a mid-life crisis: Your teenage daughter writes a funnier Christmas letter than you do. Highlights from Kristen’s letter:

• Kris meets five Jamaican hotties.
• Rent ghetto condo (IN VAIL) read: she has to share bathroom
• Dad invents brong (an innovative coupling of bra and thong –apparently already invented by Victoria's Secret)
• Kev wears deodorant
• Nicole makes list of hot third grade boys for family’s enlightenment
• Dad has affair with Craig
• Mom’s underwear sings (another invention from Victoria)
• Will’s underwear shows (recent symptom of teen boy low rider syndrome)
• Kris’underwear shrinks (recent teen girl phenomenon)
• Dad tries to get skinny
• Cam learns all the words to “Baby got Back” which include “would you look at her butt, it is so big” (Are you sensing a theme?)
• Kris has baby (actually “Baby Think About It” a three day “experiential learning doll” courtesy of the progressive health program at Graland…) hmm, if that had been around when we got married, we could have gotten by with my old Toyota Corolla!
• Dad puts foot down about buying a new house…ABSOLUTELY NOT!
• (See enclosed card for new address)

This year we are grateful for our loyal New York pals, our deepening Denver friendships, the memorable times with family including Steve’s wedding, Easter with Grandma, Mom’s seventieth, sleepovers at Uncle Chris’ house, Lollie & Pop-pop’s Denver visit, and our upcoming Florida reunion with Phil’s family for Christmas.

Wishing you all the peace and joy of the season as well as happiness and health in the New Year.

Love Gretchen, Phil, Kris, Will, Kevin, Nicole, and Cam.

Christmas 2002

Go, Gretch. Go.

Kid.

Big kid. Little kid.

Big kids and little kids.

Glad kids and fad kids.

Mad kids and rad kids.

Dad kids.

The kids are all going around and around and around.

Go around again!

That about sums it up… Go! Stop! Go! Go around again!

We’ve been reading Go, Dog. Go! for thirteen years now. Like people with their pets, I guess it was inevitable that we would begin to resemble the characters...

“On the Road Again” is our official theme song for 2002. Our year developed into one continual road trip beginning with the holiday hop from hell last New Year’s when we made the grave tactical error of flying into Newark to expedite our six-day three-state extravaganza. Airport insanity was compounded by Cameron’s ear infection, my sinus infection, a Friday night New York rush hour, multiple simultaneous sleepovers (all in different towns) and was topped off with a stomach flu that traveled from Irvington to Philadelphia along with us. Are you starting to sing along?

Immediately following our return trip to Colorado and despite our travel travails, we gamely hit the road again in January at 6:00 AM every single $^#**% Saturday for six weeks along with a million other Denver nutcases making the manic drive to ski school. One hundred miles up and one hundred miles back with seven hours of skiing (scared) in between. As Kristen would say: “Oh, joyous occasions!”

Getting four kids and a wife into ski equipment every week wasn’t enough for Phil (he’s been a closet masochist for years…); in February, he volunteered to chaperone the seventh grade ski trip to Steamboat Springs…So on Kristen’s thirteenth birthday he set out in a bus with Kris and fifty-seven of her closest friends for the ultimate father-daughter, daughter’s teachers, daughter’s friends, daughter’s ex-friends, daughter’s crushes, daughter’s crushees, daughters’ ex-crushes, daughter’s ex-crushees bonding experience. Imagine his surprise when the four and half hour drive concluded in a fifty-eight person hot tub despite the darkness, the sub-zero air temp and the fact that the tub was designed for eight…max.

Before we moved to Colorado, our kids’ idea of a long trip was a drive to the mall…but here in the wild West, people’s idea of a Sunday drive is a drive that takes the WHOLE Sunday! Do you think it was a cop-out to get a car with a VCR and five sets of headphones? We don’t! So…over the kids’ spring break we took out stock in Blockbuster and caravaned to Tucson with our good friends, the Friends (cool, huh?) 18 hours…one way. What’s one missed turn…a four hour shortcut?!! Yikes.

Come June we road-tripped again…but this time via United to the Jersey Shore for a brief reprieve from the hectic schedule. The east coast was blissful. The only time I climbed into the car was to venture off the island for supplies. We had long weekends with both of our extended families as well as an extremely memorable Fourth of July when our crazy pals, the Cashels, parked their thirty-two foot long RV in front of our house which has only 28 feet of curb (much to our neighbor’s dismay!...)

In August, we embarked on a short (anything is short after Tucson) trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons by way of Jackson Hole. We sped along desolate Wyoming roads with Cameron belting out Baptist songs courtesy of Kristen’s southern camp experience: “Rise and shine and give God your glory glory, rise and shine…”

For the first time, Kris ventured off to sleep-away camp in North Carolina along with her best NY pal, Cub. Imagine our distress upon hearing that only one week after I got her settled she slipped her Grandma an S.O.S. note while attending the local mass. After much hoopla, calls to counselors, dramatic phonecalls, desperate letters, we were startled to find posted on the camp website a photo of her slow-dancing with some unfamiliar boy! Suddenly her letters became more upbeat…well, of course she was happy: the carefully chosen all-girl camp had imported boys!!!

Will spent part of his summer back at Camp Thunderbird in Minnesota tackling his own big road trip…a 140 mile three day bike journey! Back at home, he opened last week as Charlie, the anvil salesman in The Music Man at our local theatre: he has gained the nickname “Velcro” due to his uncanny ability to attract teenaged girls.

Kevin gets around on his own set of wheels…over the past two years he’s become a lean mean rollerblading machine...a big player on two winning teams. I repeat: winning teams! Phil has experienced nirvana. Kev’s hockey player buzz cut was a big hit with the girls at cotillion…and to our great surprise he didn’t really seem to mind.

Nicole is our real road warrior. She sports her purple belt in taekwando, is soccer goalie for “The Groovy Girls”, serves as Cameron’s own personal stand-up comedian, plays a mean piano, and is well-known in the second grade for her prowess with a yo-yo. Road rage still rules when she and Kev share the back seat of the Suburban…sigh…so we’ve resorted to moving the car-seat between them …the Great Wall of Cameron. So far so good.

Speaking of Cameron, “Go, Cam, Go!” has also been an oft-heard phrase as this was the year of the potty-training. After his initial reaction to the suggestion that he do his business in the bathroom was “ I hate bafrooms” he eventually caught on and became so enamored by the idea of having my undivided attention, that some mornings would insist on sitting there for half an hour!

Our continual wrestle with the ubiquitous journey/destination question took a sober turn in late August when Phil’s dad and best friend was diagnosed with cancer. We lost him in less than five weeks and it’s been devastating. The one comfort we have is the legacy that he left…ten grandchildren and counting. He will live on in our hearts and theirs forever. We feel extremely grateful for the prayers, love, and support offered by all of you during these difficult months.

We send you our thanks and love as well as our own prayers for peace.

Gretchen, Phil, Kristen, Will, Kev, Nicole and Cameron