When my kids were born, I gave it another try. “Thanks for the pink satin onesie. It is soooooooooo cute!” Again, after about 20 thank-yous, I gave up and moved on to something more productive, like figuring out how to operate the TV remote while breast-feeding. Once in a while, I’d get a message from someone who had sent a gift but never got a thank-you, but mostly people seemed to get used to the idea that I was just that kind of person that doesn’t send thank you’s. “Did you get my present? I hadn’t heard from you so I was hoping you received it.” Yes. I got it. I’m just too damn lazy to send a card back to thank you, but now that you’re calling, thanks for the gift. I always wanted a bottle warmer and lansinoh nipple cream.
The Tide of Joy Rises
The expectation of a thank-you card for a gift given is understandable, but as my kids got older, we started to receive holiday cards and an implied expectation of one in return. I dreaded them: Greetings from the Ignazios! Love and kisses from the Kleins! Shalom from the Lichtensteins! Missing from this illustrious bunch? You guessed it, a happy-go-lucky photo and annual update from the Feldmans. At first we figured that since we were Jewish no one would expect a card anyway. It always seemed a little weird to me to gather round and strike a pose in the name of Judaism, so we shrugged it off and left that to the Kleins. But the cards
kept on coming. They started to increase in their intensity and in their diversity. New HaOW from the Changs. Happy Kwanzaa from the Robinsons! Meow-y Christmas from Archie! (my girlfriend’s cat).
Just because everybody does it, do the Feldman’s have to dress for winter in August so the Lichtensteins have something to put on their refrigerator? As my kids got older and stared seeing not only the avalanche of cards coming in the mailbox, but the array of artfully displayed cards on our friend’s fridges, they got in on the act (read; started hounding me). “Mommy, why don’t we have holiday cards with our photo on it?” “Because, we don’t celebrate Christmas, sweetie.” “But the Goldbergs don’t celebrate Christmas either and they sent us a photo of their family around their Hannukah bush. Why can’t we do that?” “Because we don’t have a bush. We have a menorah and, oh, we just don’t do it because we’re taking a stand and saving trees.” “Well, we should take a photo and send out holiday cards, Mom. Everybody else
does it.” Just because everybody does it, do the Feldman’s have to dress for winter in August so the Lichtensteins have something to put on their refrigerator? Am I going to have to be the one who compiles the mailing list and figures out how to merge the addresses onto labels and then stands in line at the post office with all the other holiday card-senders so I can buy the justright holiday stamps? No way! I have earned my reputation as the one who never sends thank-you cards, so no one’s going to expect a holiday card from me. And yes, if Emily Post were alive, she’d keel over to learn that I didn’t send out birth announcements for a single one of my children and I haven’t thanked anyone for a birthday or anniversary gift since the original wedding fiasco. I think I’ve broken every etiquette rule in the book involving thank-you and holiday correspondence. I’ve narrowly squeaked by over the last decade offering excuse after excuse about why I never send thank-you and holiday cards, but it appears that technology has gotten the best of me. I can actually take a picture, send it to a website and then email it out to my nearest and dearest friends, as well as to my long-forgotten high school buddies and my husband’s completely unfamiliar clients. Maybe now that it’s so easy, I might actually sift through all the photos I’ve uploaded to my computer but have never printed and finally create an unforgettable Feldman holiday card. Thank you, but I don’t think so. ■
Greetings I Can Do Without I hate to sound grumpy, but know I speak for many people who love to hear from family and friends at the holidays in the good old-fashioned way-a card, a picture, a (brief ) handwritten message of cheer. The following are things I’d like to mark “Return to Sender.” The Year in (Excruciatingly Detailed) Review. I enjoy knowing what your family is doing but not a play-by-play of every alleged milestone. If your letter is more than one page, you’ll lose me by Cesar Chavez Day. Baby’s 12th Christmas. I am sucker for those “Baby’s First Christmas” cards, but the photo-cards of your post-pubescent kids dressed like toddlers and sitting in Santa’s lap are creepy.
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A Role Mommy Magazine l Holiday 2010
Holiday Greetings from Maui. Don’t rub it in my face that you had an amazing summer vacation in Hawaii. Mention instead that you put on 10 pounds after all those Hawaiian pig roasts and I’ll admire you all year. And you are...? I refuse to waste a kitchen magnet hanging up a holiday photo card of a family I don’t know. If you don’t know me or my kids, the save yourself a stamp. Pet Peeve. No Duds for Dino. The Buddhists believe that all beings, including animals, come back in another life and pay for the misdeeds done in this one. I think you should keep that in mind when you dress up your dog as Kris Kringle and sign “his” card “Greetings from Santa Paws.”