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Dear Friends and Family,

We began our year by temporarily moving into a tiny two bedroom house to begin a “not so big” renovation of our true home.  It’s amazing how a kitchen renovation can run amuck into tearing out ¼ of your house and rebuilding a new kitchen, bathroom, and  master bedroom suite (and let’s not even get into the furniture shopping), but I testify that it can happen.

Our architects and contractors were great.  They had creative ideas, a great sense of space, skillful techniques, and a willingness to work long, hard hours in snow, rain (and eventually late spring heat) to get us back in our house by Memorial Day.  There was only one problem.  The contractors were a bit too young and good looking for my taste.

I’d come home from a tough day at work and Suzanne would be standing with our neighbor, Charlotte (both with glazed looks in their eyes), and Suzanne would mumble, “You should’ve seen what they did on the house today, Matt.”  And Charlotte would stammer, “Yeah, they took their shirts off!”

I know it’s hot on that roof with the sun beating down as you nail down shingle after shingle, but do you really have to strip down to shorts and hang those big metal hammers off the front of your tool belt?!

The only advantage was that our front yard suddenly became a gathering place for the more attractive stay-at-home mom’s in town (who arrived early to pick up their kids from the elementary school down the road).  But did they take their shirts off!?  No sirree.  Well, not in my presence anyway.

The house turned out great, and we now have plenty of room for visitors.  So please take us up on our offer and come cook us dinner in our new kitchen!  In fact, our neighbor liked the contractors so much (and maybe even some of the work that they did) that she hired them to work through the rest of the hot, humid summer on her house.

We spent the rest of the year competing to be the first member of the family to put the longest and deepest scratch in the new kitchen floors (a close competition, but I think Zac and his firetruck grabbed a narrow victory) and to break the first appliance (Suzanne triumphed by sending a pebble down the disposal – but to her credit fixed it herself after I’d resigned myself to calling the plumber).

We also drove to Maine (via Washington D.C.) and all over the Northeast for a relaxing two-week vacation with family.  The highlight of the trip?  27-1/2 hours of Harry Potter book V on tape.  And in one of the larger successes of our year, we finished the last tape just three miles from home on our return trip.  (Of course, I would’ve driven to Charleston, South Carolina at that point to make sure  we finished the story before the end of our vacation.)

Another highlight of the trip was the Spy Museum in Washington, D.C.  What’s better than climbing through model ductwork and learning about all of the body’s orifices in which a spy could hide secret messages?  Luke and Thomas were set on careers with the C.I.A. until they found out that spies were often executed in the electric chair or the gas chamber.  Now they’ve decided to be mechanical engineers so that they can make warships, fighter jets, and Hummers.  Oh boy!

Speaking of the lads, Thomas loves school, soccer, jumping on his parents bed early on Saturday mornings, and eating dinner with his hands.  Proud to be the smallest kid in his class, he’s a pretty happy go-lucky guy, although he is subject to a few mood swings.  One minute he’ll be gushing with praise over his frozen waffle and cinnamon sugar toast  (“You cook the best (and healthiest) breakfasts, Dad!”) and the next minute he’ll say something like, “You know what the worst part of my day was, Dad?  ALL OF IT!”

Thomas still has a mind for animal and geographic factoids.  Our neighbor, Shelley, once made the mistake of complaining on our front porch that her family had to take “the longest car ride in the world” from Davidson to Cincinnati.  Thomas glanced up from his book and said, “I don’t think that’s the longest car ride in the world!”   “You’re right,” shot back Shelley, “If we drove from the coast of France to the far reaches of Siberia, that would be the longest car ride in the world.”  Thomas dove back into his book for a few minutes and then perked up, “You know, I’ll bet that if you drove from the tip of South America to the Arctic Circle, that would be longer!”

So who was right?  Get out a string and measure it on a globe yourself!  [Hint:  would I include this in my Christmas letter if Thomas was wrong?]

When he’s not zooming around the neighborhood on a scooter, fighting spies or racing about with his brothers, Luke has his nose parked in a book.  I recently saw one of Luke’s books lying open on the living room coffee table and thought to myself, “I wonder what Luke’s reading these days?”  I glanced at the cover and realized, with pride, that it was a Newbery Honor Book.  Then I read the back cover.  “These days, everyone seems to be getting on Jamal’s case.  Now Crazy Mack wants Jamal to take over as leader of the Scorpions and run crack.  Jamal doesn’t want anything to do with the gang, but he doesn’t have a choice – it’s the only was to get the money for Randy’s appeal.”   SUZANNE!!!!!!  (In her defense, this was one of several young adult books that she planned to put away for more mature (i.e. older than 7) readers, but for some reason got busy with other things.  And besides, it gave me a chance to mention crack cocaine in our Christmas letter – a subject rarely covered in the holiday greetings we receive.)

Zac has a developed a strong attachment to an old, pink, satin nightgown of Suzanne’s (he’s just a chip off the old block), and he drags “silky” on rides about the neighborhood on his little plastic tricycle and firetruck.  He and his honorary twin, Mathilde, who share our beloved nanny, Brenda, are extremely verbal two year olds.  They putter around the house like an old married couple talking about current events [“Oh my gosh, Tillie, we’re going to the park today!”   “No Zac, we’re going to play with my dolls.”  “O.K.”].  Zac also has a strange fascination with religious music and motor vehicles which he combines in songs like, “Jesus Loves the Little Dumptruck.”  I’m sure he does.

Zac has a mostly endearing habit of latching on to one fact situation and questioning it repeatedly, as his Nana found out recently when she mentioned a problem that his cousin, Noah, had run across.  “Noah lost his firetruck, Nana?!”   “Yes, Zac.”    “He lost it under the couch?”  “Yes, Zac.”   “Ohhh.”  [pause three seconds.]  “Noah lost his firetruck, Nana?!”  Repeat 100 times.  He also has a habit of talking loudly in church, theatrical performances, and movies.  We recently saw the movie “Elf” which features a scene in which the lead character drinks a two-liter bottle of Coke, belches long and loud, and says to his on-screen little brother, “Did you hear that?”  Zac nodded his head solemnly and loudly answered, “Yeah . . . I heard that!”

Aside from keeping up with our three boys, Suzanne and I continue to be extremely fortunate with our respective Davidson College and Charlotte law firm jobs.  We’d love to live closer to our extended family and have the opportunity to see far away friends more often, but we feel very lucky to be where we are.

We wish you all happiness and health in the New Year and hope that we’ll see many of you in 2004.

Lots of love,

Matt, Suzanne, Thomas, Luke and Zac

December 2002

Dear Family and Friends,

Here  we go again!  Last year you were subjected to a lawyer-drafted holiday letter because Suzanne was too busy preparing her academic file for tenure review.  Well, guess what?  Suzanne was granted tenure by Davidson College in April (hurray!).  And you know what that means?  Academic freedom, starting, in her mind, with freedom from writing this letter.

I tried to tell Suzanne that there’s nothing academic, intellectual, or educational about writing our holiday card.  “Well, then, it’s a perfect job for you, Matt” she replied. So off I went to the internet in search of nasty professor jokes to use in my pedestrian, mundane missive (ok, she helped me with a few of those words, but most of this letter is mine, all mine!).

You know, professors just aren’t the figures of ridicule that they deserve to be. The internet lacks a good stash of academic jokes.  Astonishingly, I did find plenty about lawyers.  But since they weren’t funny at all, I won’t include them here.

The internet did, however, spit out an interesting article from the Chronicle of Higher Education listing a few common professor expressions and paraphrases of their real meanings.

Expression                                                                                                                Meaning

“The answer to your question is beyond the scope of this class.”                 “I don’t know.”

“You’ll have to see me during my office hours for a thorough
answer to your question.”                                                                                      “I don’t know.”

“In answer to your question, you must recognize that there 
are several disparate points of view.”                                                                 “I really don’t know.”

Just as Suzanne started to feel pretty good about becoming an associate professor, a Charlotte Observer photographer captured her riding on her bicycle to the Davidson graduation in her cap and gown, which includes a flowing black and orange hood that dangles down her back.  Unfortunately, the flesh-colored orange border of the hood gathered about Suzanne’s bike seat and, I kid you not, the talk show hosts on a local sports radio show spent a segment the next morning debating whether our heroine was exposing her derriere.  Our next-door neighbor, Charlotte, came to the rescue with the perfect retort: “Yeah, and did you see how tan it was?”  I’m proud to say that Suzanne’s class enrollments have never been higher.

Aside from our annual trek to New England, we remained largely homebodies this year, planning our “not-so-big” but ever-expanding home renovation and celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary with a takeout Italian meal (while tending to sick kids).

“What did you give each other for your anniversary, Matt?”  I’m glad you asked.  I gave Suzanne an original print of a California coast oak by the photographer whose exhibit was displayed in the museum where we had our wedding reception.  Suzanne gave me a gym bag.

“Why did you give Matt a gym bag for your tenth anniversary, Suzanne?”  “In answer to your question, you must realize that there are several disparate points of view.”  Actually, Suzanne and I celebrated our anniversary by purchasing a set of poplar tree oil paintings by a local artist and friend, Felicia Van Bork, which, with the California coast oak and a prize-winning dogwood tree painted by Thomas, have turned our house into a veritable forest for the eyes.

“Thomas,” you say?  “You mean, you have children and you haven’t mentioned them yet?” In my defense, I figured that if I started with Luke, Thomas, and Zachary, people might just lose interest once they got to the parental aspects of the letter.

Luke, now six, is becoming quite an entertainer.  He recently starred as a badger in Jan Brett’s “The Mitten” (he can really dig) and as a knight in the recent church choir Christmas spectacular.  While he hasn’t yet graduated to speaking parts in plays, he more than makes up for that at home, where he gives us a running commentary on his latest thoughts, often preceded by “Can I tell you something?” After spending a weekend with Luke, our friends Antigone and Jeff decided that he should have his own talk show entitled, “Can I Tell You Something?” But Luke’s talk show wouldn’t have any guests: just Luke and his captive studio audience.

If Luke could be a talk show host, his twin brother Thomas could be a contestant on a “Jeopardy” show in which the only categories were “Wild Animals,” “Oceans,” “Miscellaneous Science Factoids,” “Pokemon” and “Things Kids Know about Star Wars Without Having Seen the Movies.” He’s an avid reader and budding scientist who’s still young enough to greet his dad with a big hug everyday after work.  Thomas has just started to hit the age where he’s aware of what’s “cool” and “not cool” in the eyes of his peers. Fortunately, I’ve managed to keep Suzanne cordoned off from his friends so that he still thinks she’s ok.

I’m struggling to come up with a game show that features an 18-month-old baby who scoots everywhere on his bottom, grins, eats a lot, and dances like the gopher/woodchuck in the movie “Caddyshack.”  (Come to think of it, if you can find such a part for a 36 year-old, it might work for me as well.)  One of our neighbors, favorably impressed by Zac’s ability to scoot about on concrete sidewalks, recently gushed, “Well . . . he’s certainly got the toughest bottom in the neighborhood . . .” That’s my boy! (It’s not as tan as Suzanne’s, however).  Zachary spends his days showered with affection from our loving nanny, Brenda Alexander, and from his “honorary twin,” Mathilde Borax.

That’s about all I can tell you about the Churchill family. You’ll have to visit if you want more information. We wish you all a joyous holiday season, and if you’re wondering whether I’ll write next year’s epistle, “The answer to your question is beyond the scope of this letter.

Lots of love,

Matt, Suzanne, Luke, Thomas, and Zachary Churchill

December 2001

Dear Family and Friends,

It’s tenure year for Suzanne, and you know what that means?  It means that you get to read a holiday letter from a lawyer instead of an English professor! (I’ll try to avoid the legalese, and you’ll just have to imagine that Suzanne is writing this letter with her characteristic verve and wit, mutatis mutandis – oh, sorry.)

The big event of the year, of course, was that I ran the Cooper River Bridge 10-K in Charleston, S.C.

Oh yeah, and we had another kid.

Zachary Gates Churchill was born on June 16, 2001 weighing 6 lbs. 11 oz and measuring 20-3/4 inches. By the next morning, however, the pediatrician informed us that Zachary weighed 8 lbs. 2 oz., which led us to suspect that either the scale was wrong, someone had managed to switch those hospital bracelets during the night and we were stuck with Bubba Hogsfart’s kid, or Zac took after his daddy. Fortunately, the latter appears to be the case. We’re proud to say Zac’s already at the top of his class – 85th percentile for weight and 90th percentile for height.

Zac is a happy, easy-going, and extremely social baby (he can’t help it with Thomas and Luke avidly competing for his attention). His face just lights up with a huge two-tooth grin whenever a family member or his wonderful nanny, Brenda Alexander, enters the room. I swear that to see him smile is worth every sleepless hour Suzanne endures nursing him. Zachary shares his nanny with Mathilde Borax, a cute, petite six-month old who flirts shamelessly with him. Our next-door-neighbors also have a 4-month old son who visits regularly, leading my brother Bruce and his friend Scott to conclude, on a recent visit filled with awkward conversations with breast-feeding moms, that we could start a branch of La Leche League right in our living room! Worse things could certainly happen.

While I was training for the big bridge race (if that pack of Kenyans hadn’t shoved me aside, I could’ve been right there at the end), Suzanne was finishing her sabbatical and fending off comments like “Now aren’t you the pertiest little pregnant girl I’ve ever see-een!” (Suzanne’s mental response: “If you rub my stomach again, I am going to hurt you!”) I have to admit, she was pretty cute with that little basketball tummy of hers (did I mention that Duke won the national championship this year yet?) and her stylish maternity ensembles—well…that’s probably why we got into all this kid trouble in the first place.

It’s been a big year for Suzanne. Aside from pushing out that 6 or 8-pound baby (it took only a miraculous 3 hours—too quick for an epidural, unfortunately—but then again I didn’t have any painkiller for my shin splints either), Suzanne received a positive reader’s report from Northwestern University Press on her book manuscript, taught again at Davidson this fall, and prepared a massive file for her tenure review. And believe it or not, Luke and Thomas still recognize her and even call her “Mommy” from time to time (she’s a great mom). Of course, she didn’t run a 10-K this year (but who’s counting). Her envy did expose itself the day after the race as she reviewed the results and informed me that 67 girls in the 11-13 year old age group managed to squeeze past me in the last mile – “and, oh, you did manage to beat 53% of the over 70 year old age group – congratulations!”

Luke and Thomas were on my side, however. They’ve reached that fantastic age of 5 where Daddy can convince them that it’s fun to gang up on Mommy. Reaching 5, of course, also means that the twins headed off to kindergarten looking quite dapper with their yellow backpacks and velcro sneakers. Davidson Elementary is an excellent school located a 1/4 of a mile down the street. At first, Suzanne or I walked them to the door of their respective kindergarten classes, but after a few weeks Luke and Thomas sternly informed us that we must part ways at the top of the hill above the school so that they could gain their independence (i.e. so that they could goof around in front of the school until their friends’ school buses arrive and then run madly for the classroom to avoid any tardy notices). They both love school, and it’s pretty amazing to see how quickly their fine motor skills (writing, drawing etc.), reading comprehension, and knowledge of Pokemon have improved. Unfortunately, Suzanne and I can no longer spell out “I-C-E C-R-E-A-M” or “V-I-D-E-O” or

“T-H-E-Y A-R-E D-R-I-V-I-N-G M-E I-N-S-A-N-E”, without Luke or Thomas saying “Relax dad, some Ben and Jerry’s and a Clifford video will do just the trick.”

The age of 5 is a magical age where innocence, excitement, and explosive growth intersect. Thomas has reached a stage where he can’t help but talk in superlatives: “‘Do You Hear What I Hear'” is the BEST song I’ve ever heard in my life”; “Aunt Elizabeth’s shrimp scampi is the BEST meal I have ever tasted—ever!!”; “I wish that EVERY day could be as good as this one”; “Daddy is the FASTEST runner ever!” (I might have invented one of those). Thomas is a sensitive kid who continues to be fascinated by science and nature: “Dad, did you know that the Cheetah is the fastest land-based animal.” – “Yes, Thomas, you’ve mentioned that.” “It can run up to 70 miles an hour.” — “That’s really interesting, Thomas.” – “If we were driving on the highway and a cheetah was running beside us, it would pass our car.” – “As long as mommy’s not driving, Thomas.” – “Dad, I need more animal encyclopedias for Christmas…”

Luke has captured his Dad’s ability to focus wholeheartedly on the task at hand and completely tune out everyone else in the room when he is reading books, drawing pictures, or building Lego vehicles. A happy-go-lucky kid who loves to clown around, Luke entertains Zachary endlessly by making faces or shouting “Nevah fear, Supah-T-bone is here!” (which I understand is a reference to the Clifford cartoon and not to a cut of beef). Luke’s also perfected such expressions as “See you soon, Mr. Loon” (which I believe refers to the water fowl he saw in Maine and not to my mental state) and “Boys rule, girls drool” (which, although a favorite of mine, is unfortunately undermined by our youngest male offspring).

Luke, Thomas and I have joined “Indian Guides” together, a cub-scout knockoff with a Native American theme. Aside from the chance to wear homemade vests and feathered headbands, the highlights of Indian Guides include overnight camping with a passel of 5-year-old boys and picking out your own Indian names. We’re the “Paw” family: Cheetah Paw (our resident cheetah expert), Panther Paw (that’s Luke—named after the local football team), and Tiger Paw (or Pa Paw). Suzanne (a.k.a. “Squaw Paw”) recommended “Bear Belly” for me, but I just had to resist. Aside from tribe pow-wows, I’ve kept busy with a bit of lands conservancy volunteer work and my corporate law gig.

We hope that the New Year finds all of you happy and healthy. We love visitors (i.e. potential babysitters) and hope that we will have the opportunity to see many of you in the upcoming year.

Love, Matt, Suzanne, Luke, Thomas, and Zachary

 

December 2000

Seasons greetings from us all!

This year’s photo documents one of the highlights of our year: a family vacation to Italy. In celebration of my father’s 60^th birthday, my parents rented a farmhouse in Tuscany and invited the whole family to join them. Before we left, Luke informed me that Italy was close to heaven–a voice on the radio told him. Whatever voice he heard proved prophetic, for the trip was heavenly. We enjoyed fine weather, gorgeous views, fantastic medieval villages, haunting Etruscan tombs, museums and cathedrals galore, and best of all, sumptuous food and wine.  Luke and Thomas were delightful travel companions, who surprised us by appreciating not only the pizza, pasta, and Pinocchio theme park, but also the scenery and art. They actually made museum-going more fun, because they forced us to look closely at the sea of Annunciation scenes to find elements that might ignite their imaginations, and in the process, stimulated our own appreciation. We were sure that we had fed their developing minds a rich trove of experiences that they would remember for years to come. But when I asked them this morning what they liked best about Italy, Thomas said, “I liked that street-sweeper”, and Luke said, “I liked the prison.” So much for opening up the vistas of their minds!

I also interviewed them about their current passions. Here’s a selective summary:

Luke’s favorite song is “Lord of the Dance” (his class is performing it at the school’s holiday pageant), and he loves to dance to Luscious Jackson (inspired by a hip-hop performance at Davidson College, he has learned to put on some serious moves). He prefers the guitar, his favorite book is “Richard Scarry,” and his favorite toy is “that snow plow” he wants for Christmas. He likes to swim, go bowling, and ride bikes. When he grows up, he’s going to drive a street sweeper and Mommy gets to ride next to him.

Thomas’s greatest hits are “When the Saints Go Marchin’ In,” “Flying Purple People Eater,” and “all the rock-n-roll songs.” He wants to play the trumpet. His favorite books are the Hanukkah story about the goblins and “all my science books.” His favorite toy is “those boxes that came from the toilet” (clarification: they did not come out of a toilet; they contained a new toilet we had to buy last week). He likes to collect shells and rocks and to study all kinds of creatures. When he grows up, after he’s done with his scientist job, he will drive a garbage truck, and Daddy can ride in the front seat with him.

After four years, the boys said goodbye to their beloved nanny (whom they still visit regularly) and enrolled in a full-day Montessori school, which they also love. The school has expanded their social and intellectual horizons, as well as fostered an interest in “practical life skills.” They are eager helpers in folding laundry, loading the dishwasher, and sponging the walls and furniture. Picking up toys doesn’t seem to have the same allure.

Matt continues to work in a Charlotte law firm and to look forward to the days when the planned light rail will ease his commute. He’s joined the board of the Davidson Lands Conservancy, a non-profit group dedicated to preserving open spaces–parks, forests, and waterfront–within the town limits. He shares his son’s interests in blocks, books, and board games, and remains a rabid–I mean–avid Duke basketball fan.

I’m on sabbatical for the entire academic year, and I’m happy to report that I love my job more than ever! I had auspicious goals for the year: revising my dissertation into a book; co-editing a volume of essays; starting an article on a NEW topic; spending more time with the boys; being a more patient, creative mother and a romantic, attentive wife; cooking healthy meals; getting in shape; working in the yard; fixing up the house; reading voluminously; drawing; practicing Yoga–to name just a few. Current tally: I’m spending a lot more time with the kids, though not always patiently; I’ve read lots of good novels; and I’ve revised the introduction to my dissertation 37.5 times.

Hope you have better luck meeting your New Year’s Resolutions. Better yet, forget about self-improvement and lose yourself in a good book!

Best wishes for the new year,

Suzanne, Matt, Luke, and Thomas Churchill

December 16, 1999

This year, we’re breaking from tradition and eliminating our mugs from the family portrait.  Rest assured that we look about the same.  Luke and Thomas, on the other hand, are growing like Kudzu (an Asian ground cover that has run amuck in this area). As you can see from the photo (Luke on the left, Thomas on the right), they are perfectly groomed, neatly dressed, and well behaved—at least for their grandparents, who commandeered the Wal-Mart photo studio exhibition and even supplied the matching outfits.

Were you to call on us on a more typical day (please do), you would likely find our dynamic duo sporting jeans, truck shirts, and “sticky-up hair.” And you’d be hard-pressed to find them sitting still.  More than likely they’d be stretched out on the floor, arranging traffic jams with their Matchbox cars. They would eagerly engage you in a game of hide-and-seek. The rules: they hide in the closet, and you try to find them. Or they might lure you into reading the books that their nanny, Melinda Smith (who’s been taking care of them since they were babies), helped them pick out at the library. Current favorite: “Waiting For Mom” (ouch!).

Although Luke and Thomas have a great deal in common, they have distinct personalities and interests.  Thomas has dubbed himself a “bug boy.” This morning, he dallied with a ladybug in the bathroom, reporting proudly, “Bugs climb on me because they like me.” He has reached the “whine”—I mean, “why?” stage, asking questions ranging from, “Why does the sun set?” to “Why can’t I have dessert?” An avid reader, he recently called one of my colleagues a “dim-witted noodlehead,” a phrase he’d picked up from a book. Fortunately, she was able to silence him with the devastating retort, “I know you are, but what am I?”  Not limited to such witty repartee, Thomas likes to be tickled, tossed, tumbled, and teased.

Luke is more outgoing than his brother and generally takes care of introductions (“We’re Wook and Thomas.”). He’s friendly, assertive (“my turn to talk!”), and happy-go-lucky. He was captivated by the baby chimps at the Ashboro zoo, who, sensing a kindred spirit, high-fived him through the glass. Luke likes to clown around, has an impressive throwing arm, and continues to be enthralled by music. He’s a big fan of ballet, but unfortunately rarely attempts dainty pirouettes at home.  Instead, he organizes frequent parades around the house, specializing in cymbals and drums

Matt and I continue to work at a Charlotte law firm and at Davidson College, respectively. In a happy coincidence, he made partner on Monday and I passed my fourth-year review on Wednesday.  I can now look forward to Sabbatical next year. Settling into our jobs and home, we are feeling more comfortable in Davidson, where we’re fortunate to have good friends and great neighbors, as well as a vital and much-appreciated supply of visits from family and friends from afar.

We hope to see you soon and wish you joy and peace in 2000.

Suzanne, Matt, Thomas, and Luke Churchill

December 1998

Dear Family and Friends,

I almost didn’t think I’d get around to writing a letter this year, until I realized I could use it as an excuse to avoid grading papers.

The biggest events of our year occurred during the summer: my brother, Jonathan, married Meig Walz, a bright, fun-loving sister-in-law.  Their wedding in Connecticut culminated a whirl-wind bi-coastal family vacation, which began in San Francisco with my cousin Heidi’s wedding, and included a visit to southern California to see Matt’s grandmother and tour the San Diego Zoo with Uncle Bruce. (Despite panda, hippo, and tiger sightings, Luke and Thomas were most impressed by the safari busses.) We also bought a house in Davidson.  It’s a 100-year-old white clapboard house with a big front porch and a small, fenced-in backyard.  It’s in excellent condition—restored by the previous owner (perfect for “hire-someone-else-to-do-it-ers” like us). We’re only a block from the local Ben & Jerry’s, coffee shop, and bookstore, though for some reason we haven’t yet been able to make good on our plan to spend Sunday mornings at the coffee shop reading the NY Times.

…which brings me to Luke and Thomas.  At two years old, they are talking, playing, running, joking, and squabbling.  We play a “name game” called “Who loves you?”  The answer is supposed to be “Mommy,” but often Luke will say “Thomas,” or Thomas will answer, “Daddy” or “Danielle” (a favorite friend).  They’ve also started to answer, “Mommy loves Daddy,” which makes me think that being twins makes them aware they are part of a complex interpersonal web, where love doesn’t just go from parent to child, but flows back and forth among children, parents, family, and friends.

Thomas has a great sense of humor, delivering one liners on the changing table such as “‘Pee-yooo,’ said the poo-pee!”  He told his first joke the other morning as I was strapping him into his car-seat; turning from the bright sun, he looked at me a mischievous grin and said, “It’s dark outside.”  Luke’s sense of humor is more physical: he likes to play “chase Luke,” a game of skill in which he runs into the next room, stops, turns around, and waits to be caught—all the while giggling uproariously.  Both Thomas and Luke are typical two-year-olds when it comes to mealtime, taxing our ingenuity with eating games.  As soon as they grow bored feeding themselves, they ask for help, demanding that each spoonful be a new vehicle:  “I want a firetruck,” and we approximate a siren; “I want a dumptruck,” and we attempt a noisy engine; “I want a purple dumptruck,” and—well, you figure it out.

Luke and Thomas have started “school” two mornings a week.  The pre-school is across the street from my office, so the three of us walk together, noting every large vehicle on the way.  Melinda Smith, our loving, reliable nanny since the boys were 2 months old, picks them up after school.  One classmate concluded, “Luke and Thomas have two mommies.”

Matt is enjoying his job and feels lucky to have found a law firm that provides intellectually stimulating work in a relaxed atmosphere.  Working “North Carolina hours” gives him more time to spend with the kids, as well as to develop interests in mountain biking and taming the jungle that is our backyard.

My job continues to challenge and exhaust me, but I’ve taken a course reduction for the spring term, which makes it seem less overwhelming. This semester, my spirits were boosted by my composition class—a lively, interesting group of students who frequently had me laughing until I had tears in my eyes. I also team-taught the senior colloquium (a required course for all senior English majors) with a senior colleague.  It was an intellectual adventure of the sort one says, “I’m glad I did it, and I’m glad it’s over.”

By now, you are probably wondering when this letter will be over, so without further delay, I’ll conclude with best wishes for a wonder-full holiday and a happy new year.   Or, as Thomas put it, “I want to get in the car and go to Kiss-mas!”

Love,

Suzanne, Matt, Luke, and Thomas Churchill