December 3-10, 2019
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ear Friends and Family,
For 355 days, writing this letter is one of my favorite things to do in a year. The other ten days I am actually. Writing. This. Letter. Yesterday, Kyla surreptitiously timed how long I could go without being interrupted while I worked on this, and she couldn’t reach 5 minutes without having to reset the stopwatch. Hopefully, it will take you less time to read the inanity.
Dwayne has conquered a few “firsts” this year, and I can’t decide which I’m more excited about. In the first time since he started working at Microsoft almost 23 years ago, Dwayne has used all his annual vacation! And instead of losing days this year, he lost almost 50 pounds and he feels (and looks) terrific. We’ve been together 20 years, and this is the fittest I’ve known him—good thing, since he has to keep up with a rigorous regiment of tickling and bedtime stalling for all three kids. Over Spring Break, he and Wes tried axe-throwing, and you can already guess what they built in our side yard last summer. Dwayne also has been trying to teach all four of us programming; his next project will be to build a brick wall next to the axe target so that he can conveniently bang his head as needed. It will be less trouble.
We have a teenager now! Kyla-my-Kyla, who has been grown up for years, turned 13 in September. She is a minimalist with everything but her digital audiobooks. Steve Jobs-esque, she has a uniform she has adopted for ease of life—black pants and red or purple shirt. Being already zen-content, her stocking is a struggle to fill, or so Santa informs me. At school, she’s enjoying a more challenging curriculum, but isn’t minding that in March, she will be a middle school drop-out as we start our world adventure. Kyla has forgotten to read the Attitude Book for American Teenagers and keeps our family together with her “okay, breathe, we can do this” approach to life. Dragons are her spirit animal and the great outdoors is her happy place.
The toddler who discovered how to steal rum balls from the top of the fridge now is the official Christmas cookie maker of the Need household. So far, Piper has made toffee, spritz, and rum balls, bourbon balls, and, ahem, more rum balls. She also cleans up after herself and starts dinner while I’m at meetings or driving her siblings around. Now that we’ve settled our differences about homework expectations (cough, cough, it’s not optional), our household is rather pleasant. I have learned to distinguish ‘furious silence’ from ‘hateful hush’ and can now understand Pipernese, a pidgin of English, waterfowl, wombat, and feline. She also has made heaps of knitted stuffed animals this year by creating her own patterns, and a friend taught her to crochet. “Dear Santa, Please bring me yarn” was the opening of her annual letter. I was most proud when she allowed me to assist her in taking apart the microwave to fix the plate that stopped rotating. And by bedtime, it was working again. Not bad for an 11 year old. Wesley is certainly my superlative child. Not only has he been chiefly responsible for many “Worst Day of the Year” awards and “Most Dramatic Response” meltdowns, but this year he handily won “Most Terrifying Event” in my parenting life when he disappeared for an hour or so on a Croatian beach. I’m almost over it, but Dwayne is currently researching GPS options before our Round the World adventure. Fortunately, Wes’s ability to not die is strong, as he figured out how to jump off our (ahem, lower) roof safely last spring and quickly picks up new ways of defying gravity with his hoverboard and balance ball. Staying alive has been an extra-useful skill now that he is home schooled and we spend … a lot … of time together. He also has taught himself to use my tools (though not to put them away) and between the drill, duct tape, and the woodpile, he has happily made himself a multitude of weapons and tools.
The cats have been on the losing end of my wrath (and by extension, Dwayne, because, well, cats) when they smeared a maggot-filled mouse carcass in Wesley’s bedroom this fall. Maggot Day is not nearly as fun as a Snow Day for an impromptu school holiday. I was also not pleased when I opened my oven drawer to find five pinkies cozied up to their mama among stolen insulation in a muffin tin. Homes with two cats puking in various corners should not also have mice. And do I really need to hear, “Moooooom, Timmy is having sexual relations with my blanket again!”? This is the year I realized I’d rather have a fourth child than another pet.
On my end, I learned how to love camping again when “Me & 3” went south for a week so Kyla could do an Oregon Trail living history camp. I read a book a day, the youngers reveled in the dirt, river, and Minecraft, and Kyla rocked the 1850s. 2019 brought my first traffic ticket in 29 years of driving, and I’m determined not to wait so long next time. I spent my birthday weekend at the IDA Dyslexia Conference in Portland, and the highlight was having a hotel room to myself (I know!) for three nights. This year looks different for me than the past seven as I disentangled myself from almost all my volunteer and work commitments as we prepare to go abroad in March, bringing only carry-ons and my mother/teacher/adventurer hats. There will be blogging!
Also to prepare us for 16 weeks of travel, Dwayne had the brilliant idea of doing some “practice trips” this year. We found ourselves flying to Costa Rica in February and Croatia in August. We threw in Canada during Spring Break to round out our “Countries that Begin with C” bingo card. I can’t imagine enjoying anything more than wandering ancient Roman structures before jumping in the Adriatic Sea, but we all loved the animals and beaches in Costa Rica. Kyla came up with the FAM (Family Adventure Motto) on our second day in Costa Rica: With Glee! That pretty much summed up our attitude while tromping through Central America and Europe.
That is also our frame of mind as we are in the midst of the Christmas season, as we merrily eat cookies, light up the tree, count down to Winter Break, and finally, finally, finally end this letter…
…with love to each of you.
Denise, for Dwayne, Kyla, Piper, and Wes
Needopedia 
