Merry Christmas 2019

2019: In Which I Develop a Neck Wrinkle and Other Adventures in Aging

            Once upon a time my kids were small and cute. They’re still pretty cute in a slightly hairier, ganglier way, but no longer particularly small.

            Mark is a junior this year. We tried a less traditional method of school where Mark “homeschools” (though it’s an online program with the school) and then takes choir and Japanese in the afternoon at the high school. His verdict is a solid meh. He’s had some freedom to do things he loves like taking an afternoon nap, but he’s had no solid breaks (they don’t get snow days or holidays unless they get ahead of schedule, which he’s struggled to do on account of the naps and a fairly challenging course load). Next year he’s planning to try some engineering classes in addition to his regular school classes.

            It’s been an academically challenging year for him and a stressful one for me as his mother. I’ve been face-slapped with the reality that this is the beginning of the end; and that soon I will need to have a young human ready to launch into the world. He’s getting there. He has excellent grades, two part-time jobs, a spot on the competitive climbing league, and great hair. He even takes showers without me reminding him. So—basically—we’ve won at life. Maybe one day he’ll even accept the reality of daily shaving (necessary at this point, but not as reliable as those showers) and non-daily hoodie wearing.

            Elizabeth is a freshman and also very busy. She also climbs and works an afternoon a week at the climbing gym. She sings in choir and honors choir and plays the flute in band. She’s both artistically and mechanically inclined. She also succeeds at regular showering. (I’m still waiting for my Mom of the Year award). She likes reading and geeky stuff, and is concerned and motivated towards her own self improvement. She steals my shoes and sometimes my clothes, even though I’m pretty sure she was just a baby last year.

            Savannah is in sixth grade and enjoying school more than she has in many years, which is a relief. She plays the oboe in band and sings beautifully. She just fell in love with reading this summer and now reads for such long stretches that I have taken to worrying about her newly sedentary lifestyle (instead of worrying about her lack of interest in reading like I did before). Her showering skills could be categorized as solidly mediocre.

            Emma is my only child who still feels like a child. She dances around the house, sings, has a million friends, strikes up conversations with store clerks, librarians and other adults with ease, loves school, loves life. She does not shower most nights, preferring baths during which I read to her. And, yes, she does need reminders, although even that is starting to change.

            Kip showers all on his own (Good job!) He’s still a paramedic and feeling a bit burned out. His latest hobby/side hustle is to form rough opals into beautiful stones, which he sometimes sells on their own and sometimes creates into jewelry. If you need more opals in your life (you do), you can find him on Etsy under OpalsandThingsStore. Also on Instagram (Opals and Things). He’s got a bunch of beautiful, under-priced-cause-he’s-new-at-this pieces.

            I also bathe without reminder (usually). I am still writing and have begun freelance editing as well, which I really enjoy. This year I released my friend’s memoir, which I helped her write. It’s called Four Seconds and is the story of her years of drug use and recovery. It’s a beautiful story and a passion project that is really doing well for itself. We also took Grey Stone and Grey Lore back from our publisher and released a beautiful new edition of them. I’ve also been doing freelance editing and tutoring with VIPKID in order to make actual money, instead of just hoping to make money (which is my current business plan for writing).

            I’ve also, as stated in the title of this masterwork of a Christmas letter, developed a solid neck wrinkle as well as several stomach, uh, floppy bits, and other generalized old lady qualities. Soon I’ll be tottering about telling young strangers how to live their lives and basically grumpily solving all the problems in the world. You’re welcome.

Merry Christmas, dear friends.

“And let the peace of God rule in your hearts…” Colossians 3:15

Merry Christmas 2018

            I spent several minutes staring at the blank page, not because I couldn’t remember what happened in 2018, but because it seemed to stretch back so far.

            I did a LOT of work on my writing this year. That’s why I’m now rich and famous and a household name and people are devoting entire cons and Disney theme parks to my books. Oh, wait. I mean, that’s why I worked every spare moment and then spent all my money earned on marketing and a writer’s conference where I was told to, uh, keep up the good work, well anyway, keep trying. So I did a lot of work and am still working on getting things right with our new book (I THINK it’s almost there). I did release a short collection of essays about my mom this spring. It was a project that was close to home, and that I almost didn’t publish because it was too close, but I’m glad I did. It is called HuggingDeath: Essays on Motherhood and Saying Goodbye.

            I continue to work with my co-writer on an upcoming sci-fantasy novel that I hope will one day be theme-park inspiring, though having some agents write nice rejection letters would be a good start for 2019 (not that I’ve gotten mean rejection letters, just the book hasn’t been up to querying level yet). I’ve also been helping a friend with her memoir about her life on drugs and subsequent recovery, which hopefully will come out early next 2019. (It’s called Four Seconds and you should all rush to Amazon and buy it when it comes out because it’s an amazing story.) And the audio books for Grey Stone and GreyLore came out this fall. Plus, a filmmaker made a trailer for a potentially upcoming Grey Lore mini-series.   

            Even more than all these projects, though, I’ve been working on finding better balance (I know, lamest thing ever to say in a Christmas letter). This year (in case you couldn’t tell from the foreshadowing above) writing started to feel heavy and disappointing instead of joyful (I mean, any art form is full of near constant criticism and rejection; it’s a necessary part of the process and it doesn’t usually get to me. But this year it started to—from beta readers to reviews to social media comparisons to I-think-this-needs-a-second-look responses; it’s been a little rough). And that lack of joy began to distract me from the truly important things and people in my life. Somehow writing (well, writing with a lot more success) wormed its way into becoming a type of idol, a stick by which I measured my worth. I kept thinking if I could just grab that success, then I would be happy. (I mean, riiight?) I never got to test that theory because I’m still lacking in an amusement park themed after my novel (or even a four-figure paycheck), but I knew I needed to make a change. So I tried to go back to when writing had been a fun part of life, not a distraction from the real parts of life. This mostly involved letting go of my theme-park expectations (okay, ALL my expectations) and just trying to have fun, by which I mean not having fun like normal people where you go to a movie and then ice cream and do traditional fun people stuff, but which for me involves a couch, notebook and cat. Maybe a piano, some books. And lots of time with my kids and husband. Also, napping. I’m not sure “success” could make any of those awesome things better, and it felt good to let go of the idea that it would.

            And now you’re probably wondering why I can’t just write a Christmas letter like a normal person, with a little less angst and a little more stuff about my kids. Okay, okay, here you go.

            Mark turned 16. He did it in a really chill way. He’d been driving with a permit for a while and couldn’t get his license till after his birthday so that was just ho hum. And he informs me he doesn’t plan to date till he’s spent several productive years in my basement, which means there’s no juicy lady friend news to report. He gets fantastic grades, is extremely self-motivated (when he wants to be), and has talent in singing, rock climbing, and sleeping (check my FB feed if you don’t believe me).

            Elizabeth is 14. She is an artist as always, though also really good at science and mechanical things. Lately she’s been into making jewelry and painting. She and Kip might start an Etsy store together next year, like weird little jewelry-making rock hounds. She’s an excellent student, pianist, and singer. She also does yoga with me if I make her. Other than yoga, she’s very self-driven.

            Savannah is 11. She just started band and plays the oboe. She really likes it. She also likes choir and is doing great at school. She loves art and laughing. She’s been pet-sitting and hoards her earnings, although she just decided to come of age and buy herself some cute clothes.  

            Emma is 8 (almost 9). She is a joy. She loves singing, learning, art, cats, and YouTube (le sigh). She is the happiest child except first thing in the morning when she is a tiny crying demon from the depths of night-person sadness. She usually needs five minutes.

            Kip does not belong on the child list, but after my long, meaning-of-life diatribe, I suppose he deserves a little page time. Plus, he’s had a big year. He decided to go from the air to the ground, meaning he left Air Evac (flight paramedic) and went back to being an ambulance paramedic. It was a tough choice as there are things he loves and hates about both. In the end, a little more money and the much more relaxed time-off schedule of a ground medic won out over the slower, but much more red-tape pace of being an air medic.

            He’s been managing our rental properties and has been prepping a couple to sell, which has been a form of high torture learning experience.

            He also bought a rough boulder opal at a gem show, cut and shaped it, and promptly became an addict. Now, he’s buying opals like a crazy man and forming them up. He may start selling some soon, so if there are any opal-wearing addicts out there, he’s got your fix. He favors boulder or matrix opals, which have stone around them and cracks, circles, or specks of opal within. They’re beautiful and look like little universes hiding in stones.

            As for adventures this year, our Ohio cousins came in the spring, followed by our Virginia cousins. Then we went to West Virginia to hang out with those cousins and I did a few book events. This summer we went to Utah, visited family, went to Zion National Park and enjoyed the perfect weather. This fall, Kip and I went to St. Maarten (while the kids hung out with Grandma and Grandpa Pace—thank you!). As you can imagine, it was terrible. Nothing but gorgeous, nearly empty beaches, delicious food, and nine-hour nights of sleep (I’d forgotten that was a thing).

Merry Christmas 2017

Maybe I'll write more on this blog this year than a Christmas letter. No promises though. For now, here's the update on the Paces:

Dear friends and family,

            It’s been such a full, fat, crazy, wonderful, horrible, blessed, cursed month that I’m having trouble thinking past it about all the rest of the year.

            Judging from the state of things in my house right now, I’m guessing that I probably spent last January cleaning.

And February, who knows…?

I know I turned forty in May, so there’s that, um, accomplishment.

What else?

After over ten years, Kip switched jobs this summer and began working for Air Evac as a flight medic—a job that came with lots of glory paperwork. And a cool helmet that makes him look like he belongs on a movie set. Overall, he’s happy with the change, although he misses old friends from his last company as well as some of the challenges of his last job. He does NOT miss going on calls and being asked to retrieve pork rinds and hand them to the patient (so called). He does NOT miss 600-pound patients (is that weightism?). He does NOT miss getting seven calls in a night. He does miss the spaciousness of the ambulance and has developed a weird helicopter envy for companies with large helicopters.

As for Mark, he started a lawn mowing business this summer, which sounds entrepreneurial and self-startery of him. But it was actually a move made out of necessity since the school year ended with Mark breaking our nearly brand new TV. It was what I will simply call a bad day. But it led to Mark spending the summer and fall mowing lawns and being responsible. He ended up making not only enough to pay for a new TV, but also to buy himself a Playstation, some games, and set aside some money for church tithing and savings. Turning that one very bad day into lots of good things in the end.

In keeping with the theme of big changes, Mark started high school this year. It was a surprisingly challenging leap, and he’s managed it amazingly. Like, seriously, I’m amazed. He has a booty-load of homework—way more than I ever did, hard classes, choir, climbing, an early morning religion class, and for the first few months of the school year, he still had lawns to mow. He managed it all on his own. I never had to pester him about homework or tests, I didn’t even know what was due or upcoming. He just took care of it and is getting great grades (I would say perfect, but I don’t want to jinx him), and keeping his other activities straight as well. I do drive him all over tarnation.

A fact that might change in a year or so because in addition to starting high school, Mark furthered his quest to make his mother feel extra old by getting his learner’s permit (which you can do at age 15 in Indiana). He’s a pretty decent driver too, and already more gifted at parking than me.

Elizabeth also took a leap into Junior High this year. She’s in band and choir and every day she comes home and goes through her list of chores and things to do and does them. Which might sound unremarkable to you if you are not a parent, but I believe that most parents will realize the amazingness of that statement: She comes home from school and does the stuff she is supposed to do. Without me asking. She is my only child to do so. Everyone else drops their backpacks on the floor and proceeds to avoid any chores I’ve assigned. Not Elizabeth. In fact, if she wants to accomplish something she’ll ask me to add it to the chore list because she knows if she’s supposed to do it, she will. And she does. And it pays off.

She’s tried to be more physically active this year and has exercised regularly. She’s becoming a gifted pianist. (Seriously, guys—we’ve finally gotten to that blessed musical point where the parent hears music from the other room and thinks, “Oh, that’s nice” instead of “Well, at least she’s practicing.”) She’s hard-working, a gifted speaker, writer, artist, and a voracious reader.

Savannah turned ten and loves 4^th grade (finally—halleluiah). She’s incredibly artistic, likes to talk and talk and talk and play and play and play. She and Emma would make up (and fight about) games all day long if there weren’t chores their mother keeps pestering them about.

Savannah loves to laugh and draw. She often worries that she’s not as good at things as other people since she’s sometimes just perfectly different at things. This is something that mothers relish and cherish (and are sometimes driven a little looney by), but that—at age 10 as a middle child can sometimes be confusing. This year she was chosen to do Battle of the Books at school. It’s been really good for her. She tells me she loves staying after school to do it. I think she enjoys the challenge as well as the niche it gives her. She is my little entrepreneur and recently began her own pet-sitting business (not spurred by any broken electronics that needed paying for) and loves animals so much and wants to be a vet when she grows up. I can’t think of anyone who would make a better veterinarian than Savannah.

Emma is a light. Plain and simple. Quick to smile, quick to sing, quick to hug, happy in her skin and her life. She notices when people are sad or stressed and tries to help them. Recently, she told me, “When Savannah is sad, I feel sad too.” I know personally that when I am sad she is at my side, hugging me. Many adults spend a lifetime developing the natural love and empathy that little soul carries around with her every day. She has oodles of little friends (and occasionally some little friend drama). She is smart and bright as an angel. She loves playing, music, cuddling, reading, math, patterns, learning and—well—maybe she loves everything (excepting vegetables). Which is what I love about her.

I (Jean) have been busy. Sometimes too busy, or maybe that’s just December speaking.

In May I attended my first writers conference in Provo, which was a daunting, but great experience. I finished and just recently published my second book, Grey Lore (in case you’re dead and didn’t hear about it yet). I also ghost wrote (and am shopping to publisher) a story for my friend who spent years using and selling cocaine and crystal meth before cleaning up and finding her wonderful self. Jake (my co-writer, not brother) and I have also been working on a new sci-fi series set in the White House. (Is this writing update interesting to people or boring as heck? Sorry if your eyes just glazed over.)

In addition to writing, I’m the Primary President at our church (which means I’m in charge-ish of the kids ages 2-12). I’m also the president of the Midwest Writers Guild in Indiana. I still teach piano and have begun teaching English to Chinese children online. It’s been a really full, rewarding year with some occasional stumbles that make me think, “What am I even doing?” Truly, I don’t know. But I sure love my kids and I sure love my husband. And I know they love me back. It is, as so many locals say in the Midwest, a blessed life. That I often take for granted. That I occasionally whine about if I hit an imperfect patch. That I sometimes trip over. Even so, I’m so often blessed (and sometimes forced) to see the hand of God in my life, and I am deeply grateful for His love and His gospel that have led me to so many happy places and wonderful people. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. 

Merry Christmas! 2016

Dear Friends and Family,

            In 2016 I  turned 39. You know what that means, right? It means that next year I’ll be 40. That’s not so bad (Cake! Presents! Free stuff!) except that lately I feel like I look sooo old (maybe it’s all the Christmas cookies eaten too late at night, but…). I’ve caught myself thinking, “Maybe I should try waist training.” Or, “How much is unreasonable to pay for a miracle face cream?” I am, sadly, not even making those thoughts up. Though I try not to entertain them too much. Except when I spend actual moments of my actual life googling before and after face cream pictures. Please don’t publicize this when I am famous.

Which, of course, I’m going to be any day now because in case you missed it, my first book came out this summer. But you probably didn’t miss it unless you are a) dead or b) also dead or c) have blocked me eternally from your Facebook feed, avoid me at parties, and generally eschew making eye contact of any variety. Otherwise, you’ve surely been bombarded with more Grey Stone than you ever wanted. (And I am still not above begging for reviews if you liked the book (please, it’ll only take a minute; Amazon reviews are fun!).

            But, yes, I did get my first book published this year[1]. And, yes, it is exciting. And, yes, you should buy a copy (and leave a review on Amazon). And, yes, I am making millions… Oh, wait, nope, still waiting on that last part. But seriously, it’s been super fun and the book’s sold decently for a first book, and I’m loving throwing myself into a writing life while my kids are at school (when I’m not googling miracle face creams, of course).

This year I hope to finish the companion book for Grey Stone (titled Grey Lore), so be looking for it, unless of course you’d rather be a) dead or b) also dead. Otherwise, I will find you… I mean, otherwise, I’ll keep you posted.[2]   

            Kip is still dabbling in real estate. He sold several houses this year, though he is still not convinced he loves real estate. What he does really like and totally rocks at are the investments (for us and others). He’s just really good at recognizing and fighting for good deals. This year we flipped our first house and then bought another rental. Both were fantastic deals which—not to brag—(but bragging will ensue)—Kip is so good at finding and assessing. (I’m not always as realistic or knowledgeable as I need to be with investments, but I have a happy helper disposition, so that’s good.)

            Full time, Kip is still a paramedic—or full-time hero if you will. So there’s that too.

            He’s also a great dad and husband. And does not need waist training or face creams as he only gets hotter and buffer with age (why universe?)

            My kids are growing up at the alarming rates to which old ladies always refer. But seriously, where are my babies?

            Mark now has a low voice. And muscles. He is fourteen. He loves rock climbing, and has become super good at it. He’s fallen in love with Hamilton (along with me) this year and he is a better rapper than me.[3] He also sings in the choir and does well in his classes, though he abhors after-school activities. (He also abhors trying new foods and/or many old foods. Also, haircuts.)

            Elizabeth turned twelve and spends most of her time singing and reading. She is both night owl and early bird, and will stay up late reading, then get up early for choir. She’s super self-motivated, creative, and heart-rendingly kind. Also beautiful. Elizabeth abhors mashed potatoes (or any kind of potatoes not crisped to over-crispiness). She also abhors conflict and arguing, though she embraces bossiness in all older sister forms.

            Savannah is nine. She loves facts and talking, so if she knows facts, she will chatter away about them. She is the type of kid who often demands that I explain jokes to her, which makes Mark crazy. But I explain the jokes anyway. Sometimes Savannah laughs. Sometimes she doesn’t. When she does laugh, it is the jolliest noise you will ever hear. I love it.

            She still dresses her stuffed animals in makeshift outfits and would rather play and color and create than read. She is a loyal friend and is deeply troubled by the lack of crafting in today’s schools. She abhors things that don’t make sense to her (even if they make perfect sense to me). And she’ll tell you she abhors this. Though she won’t use the word abhor, preferring instead the phrase, “Seriously, Mom.”

            Emma is my beautiful baby-not-a-baby-anymore. She is easily the most social of all my children at the youngest age and has lots of friends and tells me all about them and there’s sometimes more drama than seems entirely necessary in the first grade, but I just listen and nod. Emma is super smart and loves numbers and words and patterns in general. She’s learned to read easily and is always asking bout billboards and signs, which the rest of us have ceased noticing. This is one thing I love about new readers—the fresh world that has opened to their view.

She sings like a tiny angel, and dances, and abhors jeans or any other clothing she considers restrictive no matter how seasonally appropriate it is (heels and fairy dresses, for the record, are not at all restrictive, as opposed to coats and jeans, which are). She has decided black is the new pink (aka her new favorite color[4]), though she does not abhor pink.

            And that, my friends, is us. In a rather wordy nutshell. To any who are not already asleep in their eggnog, let me say. “And to all a good night.”

            We love you and take joy in this season of celebrating Christ and his birth.

Love,

The Paces

---

[1] Me: In all seriousness, thank you all so much for your support. You have all been amazing friends and it has been one of the most touching, wonderful parts of having my book come out.

You: Wait, did you just put a footnote in your Christmas newsletter?

Me: Yes. All those parenthesis were becoming cumbersome.

You: And are you creating fake dialogue to go into the footnote you put in your newsletter?

Me: Yes.

[2] Because you were worried, right?

[3] Whatever, that’s a total lie. I’m an amazing rapper.

[4] Savannah is always quick to tell Emma that black is not technically a color; rather it absorbs all of the colors so we can’t see them. Thanks Savannah. Now let me explain my black is the new pink joke to you. 

Mark's Birthday

Mark turned 14 this year. Some pictures of him and highlights.

He played capture the flag with friends, then we came home for spaghetti and cake.

Favorite book: Wheel of Time series (I can't remember the actual favorite book from that series because I'm the worst Mom ever)

Favorite food: spaghetti

Favorite dessert: the chocolate cake we had for his birthday

Favorite sport: rock climbing

Best Friends: Peter and Isaac

Favorite toy: Transformers

Savannah's Birthday

Savannah turned 9 this year. We took a couple friends to Pump It Up and then had pizza and ice cream cake.

Some pictures and highlights.

Favorite color: Purple

Best Friends: Macie and Natalie

Favorite toy: She said all of them, but I'd say her stuffed animals

Favorite food: Pizza

Favorite dessert: Cake

Favorite book: Katje's Boxes

Utah Vacation

When my blogs weren't going to anyone I lost a lot of my oomph in doing them. Now they're being automatically sent to you all again and I need to get back in the habit.

In July, we went to Utah for vacation. We hadn't been for about 4 years and life was so stressful before we left. I had crazy book stuff going on with delays, etc. And Kip had stressful real estate stuff going on. And then going to Utah is always stressful to me because I feel like I can never see all the friends and relatives that are there and I feel guilty about that, and I feel like we never get quite as much time as I want with the people we do see. So I was super stressed by the time we actually headed out to Utah. But I shouldn't have been because it ended up just being the most wonderful vacation.

Starting with our 6:30 am plane ride from Evansville. We had one short layover and no babies/toddlers and it was the easiest travel I can remember since Mark was a baby. We got into Utah in the early afternoon, which was amazingly fantastic, and then we just chilled.

The next day (or day after; the details are already foggy for me) was Kip's dad's birthday so Shelle and I made a cake and we celebrated. Shelle had bought this tent trailer and the kids just spent hours in it playing board games and imagination games and whatever.

That Friday we were supposed to go fishing with Jake, but he had a late call at work which postponed things enough that we skipped the drive to the reservoir and just spent the evening making hobo dinners and talking to Jake and Sarah. Sarah had (Sarah-style) made all these goody bags for the kids and they loved them and had a blast with them. It was so low key and lovely.

Before that, we'd hiked Adam's canyon. We left Kip's parents' house at 11 and didn't pack lunch because I, being brilliant and all, was like, "It'll only take a couple hours so we'll just eat when we get home." If you've ever hiked, you're laughing at that, aren't you. Because of course it took 4 hours and the kids (and I) were really just dying of hunger. They still made it to the top, which was this gorgeous waterfall and we played there for a while. If I'd just brought a few snacks, we would have stayed longer and enjoyed it more. As it was, we headed down the mountain because we were hungry, and getting hangry. But we made it and I learned to always take snacks hiking.

Saturday we hung out with Kip's high school friends and BBQ'd.

Sunday we went to church with Kip's dad, then headed to temple square to walk around. Afterwards, we went to Grandma's and met up with Jake and Sarah. We visited with Grandma and Ginny for a while. Then we headed over to Mom's grave, which we found after a bit of looking, and the kids gave her some cookies and some flowers. Which I think Mom would have appreciated. After that, we went to Jake and Sarah's for a delicious pasta dinner, which made us all happy, but especially Mark because we'd been eating hamburgers, like, all week and he hates them, but he loves pasta.

Monday was the 4th. We went to see Jake and Joker at the K9 demo and then hung out with my friend, Anna-Lisa, whom we'd invited. After that, we headed to Kip's uncle and aunt's house for another BBQ and some fireworks. It was in Alpine and they don't have official fireworks, but everyone brings their own personal fireworks to the park and set them off. It was the craziest, most interesting, and did I mention craziest thing I've ever seen. People must have spent thousands and thousands of dollars and they just set them off all over this park and it was crazy. Ash was just falling from the sky on us and it seemed kind of unsafe, but also just so fascinating. I prefer normal fireworks shows, but I'm glad we went to see the weirdness of a community fireworks show.

Tuesday was our last full day and we spent the afternoon with Kip and Shelle's friend. We got pizza (again Mark was relieved) and played games. Braden is in the process of developing this game and it was really cool to play. I hope it makes it big because it was the best game I think we played on vacation.

Wednesday we left Mark to stay with his California cousins for a bit extra and the rest of us went home. Again, the travel was so easy that it was like a dream. We got home in the afternoon and stepped out of the airport into storm-cloudy skies, and I thought, "Home sweet home."

The pics are all below because I just did not have energy to post them in the right places. I need to find a way to get pictures easily to my computer so that it can become less of a pain and time suck to do this.

Me and Shelle. Shelle's rocking that gardening hat at the park. 

Foosball.

New towels

Roller coaster buddies

Hiking Adam's Canyon

Smores with Jake and Sarah

Temple Square

Mom's grave

I don't even know where this was, but thought it was cute. 

Various Grandma pics

Here we are at Jake's police dog demo. The kids had to do push ups with the dogs.