This is the text of a holiday card sent out by the Marvin family. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Happy Holidays and warm greetings to you, our friends and family,

Our newest daughter Bridget is, quite frankly one of the happiest children we’ve ever met. So our adjustment this last year was not so much about adopting her, but parenting three children, cutting 60 nails, flossing 60 teeth, settling three-way disputes, shampooing three heads, sorting what looks like millions of socks, underwear and hair accessories and then there is the noise…. You can imagine it can’t you? If you can’t, look at the photo on the cover of this card and just put yourself there. It is especially at bath-time that Joe and I are sure that we are the ONLY sober attendants at the party.  A laughing, naked, running, falling, gargling, squealing, loud kind of party, an official gathering of the Life Lovers association, right there in our very own bathroom -- every night. Yes we are truly blessed. But there are certain times of pure exhaustion when we both wish our blessings weren’t quite so…well… abundant.

For example, while we certainly appreciate Grace’s ability to articulate her needs, does she have to say “Get out my room” or “you makin’ me mad mom”? While we are thrilled that she is riding her tricycle proficiently, does she have to drag the toes of her brand new shoes on the ground to brake? While she is potty trained does she always have to go at 5 a.m.? While Emelia is taking piano lessons, does she have to practice so much? While she is in love with her new clogs, does she have to wear them every day?

While she is learning to read, does she always have to insist on knowing what “that” spells? While Bridget adores Joe, does she have to stalk him? While she enjoys getting her haircut does she have to try cutting her own hair the very next day? While they all love to sing, do they have to do it in the car (separate songs)? Two steps forward one step back. Fold a shirt, wipe a nose, fold a shirt, get a snack, fold a shirt, turn on a video, fold a shirt, answer the phone…and then someone tips over the pile of shirts. Wash the floor, settle an argument, wash the floor, wipe a bottom, wash the floor, get out a toy, wash the floor, get the mail…you guessed it, the muddy dog. Getting control of this household is like trying to nail Jell-o to a wall. But the blessing in the chaos is that we are constantly reminded that we really are not in control. The man upstairs is — and quite frankly I am glad that He has the job and I don’t. Yes we are dripping in the gooey mess of humanity. And we must believe that what looks like complete disarray to us must really have orderly roots in His Plan and it is an awesome one (or else I’d need Morphine instead of Motrin).  Really, how else could we have ended up with our gaggle of glorious girls?   When I am out and about with them, it is so predictable that someone will remark “Boy, do you have your hands full” and my response is either a confident or weary “full of love” depending on the day, and whether or not I feel the need to convince myself. Joe and I have noticed though, that as time goes on our adjustment is easing because “at least we are not hiding in the garage anymore” or shouting “don’t forget to come home” to one another as we drive out of the driveway.

Find the blessing. Find the blessing.  Find the blessing.  Foooooocus. 

We wish you all the happiest of holidays and may you never be too old or tired to make a bubble beard in your bath - but try not to splash the floor.

Love, The Marvins