An Honest Holiday Letter

By Troy Foster

This New Year's Eve - like others in the past - I'm sitting here reading the letters stuffed in many of the holiday cards we received.  I love them.  It's like reality TV.  A lot of hype, bragging, exaggeration, and some out and out lying.  Combined with a small, very small dose of substance and truth.  Of course that's not true of all of them and I sincerely hope that this doesn't result in us getting less of them next year.  Because I really do love them.  (Have to admit that the ones that are completely truthful, just give a basic rundown and pictures are cool - but not nearly the thrill the over-the-top ones provide.  The later ones are in my lap right now!)

But let's have a reality check.  If most of what I read is true, everyone's kid is the smartest, most wonderful child, on the Honor Roll, and enjoying much success in all sports.  And everyone's vacations were perfect, involved going to an island (or two) and a cruise.  All have been promoted or now lucky enough to be staying at home, and loving every minute of it - work and play.  Everyone's spouse is prince charming or a goddess unlike no other; or for the single folks, they couldn't be happier alone by choice - loving every minute of their freedom and would have it no other way.  They've lost weight, bought a new and bigger house (because bigger is always better), live in the safest neighborhood with the best schools, and are bffs with their neighbors.  

You know what I'm talking about.  You get them too.  Come on.  A lot of these folks (some of my closest friends and relatives) are full of it.  Now, don't get me wrong.  It's much better than reading "woe is me" letters, which I do not read more than once.  And, I'm all about seeing the silver lining - in almost everything.  But a silver lining is different than making everything I touch turn into silver and gold.  

From my perspective, shouldn't what happened in the last 12 months - without the exaggeration - be good enough?  What's the shame in having a moderately good year or feeling great that you made it through a hard one?  It's a bit of a bummer that it seems as though these over-the-top letters' authors think they need to "puff" for it to be a success, or to impress their readers.  

We don't write holiday letters, but if we did, it would go something like this:

Our 2011 was filled with a lot of laughs, challenges, but most of all memories.  Here are the highlights.

Luke and Henry are enjoying school.  Luke loves reading and does well.  Except on days that his anxiety is uncontrolled.  On those days, we've had to pry him out from under a water fountain because his new teacher freaked him out.  Henry really likes his special needs pre-school class; his teacher is awesome.  Though there is one boy in Henry's class (like last year) that bites, kicks, and is generally violent.  Henry is not dumb, he's befriended this kid.

Lily is not a huge fan of school and will do almost anything to try to avoid homework.  She also fights with her teacher - not physically like the kid in Henry's class - just attitude.  We've been working on that, and she is doing much better this fall.

Our last au pair was a nightmare.  Basically, she didn't watch the kids, let our 7 and 4 year old run away (really), slept after strapping our youngest (1) into the highchair, and fed our Henry (who is allergic to almost all foods) snacks three times a day.  So, she's gone and I'm staying at home part-time to watch them.  Hard job, but I like it so far.  Good time with the kids, gives me a new appreciation for a lot of things - like clean clothes, floors - anything - which we won't have for more than 5 minutes until 2028.  It's made me a little more of a slob than I'd like.  When I don't have time to shower, I don't.  The end.  I do make sure that my seizure and anti-anxiety meds are taken everyday though because that would be a problem.  I've also made more food - mostly cookies, cakes, and other sweets - than necessary - which has helped me gain weight and land on cholesterol meds.  But 2012 will make the difference.

While I work, the kids go to a preschool at our local church.  Eli is a bit of a manipulative monster - crocodile tears every day I leave and am told that stops, and becomes the "boss" of the class before I'm out of site.  Yep, we see that at home too.  He'll climb on top of things, look at me, smile (you know exactly what it looks like), and yells "get down" to himself.  He eats like an ox, which is refreshing, given that our other kids don't eat.

Kristen is doing great at the firm.  It has grown and shrunk, and then grown again.  We've had our normal crap at work - not worth commenting on.  She's running for Congress.  Oh, and I wrote a book (Three Candles); second one on the way.  I'd love it if you buy it (publicist would kill me if I didn't say that).  We've been working a lot on Henry's Hope too and helped quite a few kids this year, but so many more that need it.  Blah, blah.

Kristen and I spend a lot less "alone" time together.  Kristen is still hot, and thinks that I am.  We have managed to squeeze in some dates when we get a babysitter.  And that will be more frequent when we get respite care for Henry via the State Program here that Henry qualifies for.  Awesome program.  

On the friend front, mixed bag.  We have some great ones.  Found out we have a few fair weathered ones. And, some that we thought were friends, but never were.  Again, mixed bag.  Some people are great.  Some people really suck.  I know that I do sometimes.

We have and use our health insurance - frequently.  Henry and Luke both have the same condition, and so the doc appointments are plentiful.  But they let us combine them, which saves a lot of time.  They've had ups and downs (Luke is back in glasses but Henry gained weight last month).  But, all in all, they are happy.  So are we.  Everyday is an adventure.  Some days are great.  Some days suck.  But, we are happy with what it is.  Good enough for us!

Everyone's should be good enough for them too.  But if that happened, I wouldn't get these gems.  So torn.  Happy New Year!

"Stealing" the Marshall Papers

by Troy Foster

Is there a statute of limitations on this, I hope?  Anyway, here goes.  When I was in Washington, they released the papers of deceased (and first Black) U.S. Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall.  When they say “release,” they mean that they are under lock and key at the Library of Congress.  Only Members of Congress and their staffs could go sneak a peek – for the first few months.  So a friend (actually the Chief of Staff’s mother who I adored) and I took advantage.  It was pretty interesting.

As we left, the alarms beeped.  We looked around.  Nope, didn’t have anything.  The library staffer looked, and thanked us for stopping.  I was annoyed.  That night, I unpacked my book bag that I took with me to work.  In it, I found a two-inch stack of Justice Marshall’s handwritten notes.  What?  Of course, only the handwritten ones.  Perfect.

Without sleeping all night, my mission returning them began early.  I had thought of what I’d say, how I’d apologize, and planned it out.  Hoping not to get arrested.  I walked into the Library, signed in, and saw the papers in the same station where I left them – with no one there.  I sat down and unloaded them.  Then realized this was covert – so had to stay a bit pretending to read them.  One of the more nerve wracking, yet silly experiences in my life.


Next time, you'll read about odd job interview experiences.  Very, very odd.

My Newt Gingrich Story Involves Sweat - Not What it Sounds Like

Sweatin’ on The Speaker

by Troy Foster

Of the House, that is.  Many moons ago, I worked for a Congressman on the Hill.  When the House Republicans signed their “Contract with America,” it was a big buzz in Washington.  So, I decided to get my picture taken with the newly elected Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich.  Signed up for a time and everything.  Then, so unlike me, I got lost in work and realized that I was late.  Late for the Speaker.

So, I booked it.  Me and running don’t go together – so, it was probably a sight.  I had to run two buildings over.  Only problem – it was hot and humid.  When I start sweating, I can’t stop.  So, I arrived, fully drenched.  The good news is that he wasn’t on time.  I stood and waited by these red, expensive looking curtains.  Realizing that I couldn’t wipe my sweat on my suit (without it being in the picture), I quickly wiped my head on the Speaker’s curtains.  Very absorbent.  I helped pay for them, right?  And it’s only sweat.


Got the picture!  Still looked sweaty.  Speaker Gingrich signed the picture, "Your friend, Newt."  I know that's his form, but it made me feel like my sweat incident wasn't an issue.  So in this close primary race, I have to say, that's a factor.  Not decisive, but who wouldn't want a friend that forgives (or overlooks) your social trespasses in the White House.



Next issue we'll cover how I accidentally borrowed THE Marshall Papers - and not on purpose.

"Daddy Got Arrested in Ohio"

By Troy Foster

That’s what the kids are saying anyway.  I didn’t.  I did get pulled over for speeding on our way back from a short trip to Washington, D.C.  And, of course, we were stopped just passed the “welcome” sign as we entered Ohio.  Really Ohio?  I guess my dislike for the State will continue for a bit longer.

That said, the kids – Henry especially – were so excited that I got “arrested.”  When I argued with him, he just giggled and kept saying it.  But, this little stinker wouldn’t even talk to me directly about it – as if I was a common criminal not worth speaking to.  Rather, he’d make sure I was looking at him in the review-view mirror, smile, turn to Kristen and say “Mommy, will you please tell me when Daddy gets arrested again.”  Then, they would erupt in laughter.  My pretending to act mad just raised the intensity of the chortling.  After we got home, and right before he went to sleep, Henry asked me quietly, “Daddy, wasn’t it so funny when you got arrested?”  It was.

So though I’m not asking for it to happen again, the $140 fine and getting arrested – were well worth the fun we’ve had afterward.  It might have been a highlight of our trip.  (The trip, by the way, was part of our mission to do fun things with the kids on the spur of the moment.  On Saturday, I had the kids get dressed to swim – as we’d planned on heading up to the beaches in Michigan.  At some point, because my wife is running for Congress and Luke has wanted to go there, I decided we’d go to DC.  Long drive for a very short stay.  But the kids had a blast, were in awe, and had a great time at the museums.  They’ve already started mapping out our next trip to DC – when we plan to stay more than a day.)

My “arrest” just reinforced to me, on a very minute level, how precious every minute truly is.  We can waste it on being mad, seeing the worst in it, or focusing on the bad.  Or, we can laugh and have fun.  Our kids have taught us to make the last choice.

I'm Ashamed of Myself Today, Politically Speaking

But, I think it's who I am.  Read together, does that mean, I'm ashamed of who I am?  I hope not.  Don't think so.

I'll take a quick step back.  Someone (actually two people) that I care about dearly (who will remain anonymous for obvious reasons) have decided to run for Congress.  Announcement(s) soon to come, but this is about me, remember?  Stop thinking about them.  They'll be in the limelight soon enough.

Anyway, knowing a thing or two about Congressional campaigns and having worked for Congress Members in DC and in the District, I offered my help.  They accepted.  I will have significant roles in both campaigns.  Until I get fired (see below for reasons why).  And, as an aside, I am not really fond of that many people.  Nor do I truly support many folks politically.  I genuinely love both of these people; two of the most genuine, honest, smart, and hard working people that I know.  Having worked on the Hill, I am also certain that both of them will make excellent Members of Congress.

Back to me.  I discovered today that I may have multiple personalities (not really, of course, though some of you might not be surprised by the actual diagnosis).  There's Kind Troy, Daddy Troy, Boss Troy (#1 - Nice), Boss Troy (#2 - Not Nice).  And there's Political Troy.  He hasn't been around for awhile, and I forgot about him.  This morning, I remembered.

Political Troy is not a bad guy.  He may even be the proverbial "good guy."  He is determined, focused, gets things done, and is bossy.  Really bossy, precise, and expects perfection - for his candidates/members.  You'll hear Political Troy talk about deadlines, checklists, his disappointments and expectations.  Political Troy wants things done now, and perfectly.  Generally, that's how he gets them.  When he doesn't, there are ramifications.  (Political Troy has even been known to be a little bossy with his candidates/elected officials.)

There is a reason that Political Troy is successful, and that his candidates tolerate him.  He demands these things, and gets them - for his candidates and the people that they represent.  He's the "behind the scenes" guy, the heavy, the enforcer, the detail guy - because the candidates can't be.  Their jobs are even more important.

But today, I also realized that Political Troy is kind of a jerk.  He's not patient, tolerant of many mistakes, and is more directive than a teacher.  Though he never raises his voice (no Troy does), his looks may be worse.  Those who do well love Political Troy - because he loves them.  Those who don't do well learn the hard way.

So, today I struggled a bit with how I reconcile this, sometimes jerk, with the other nice Troys (except for Not Nice Boss Troy - who is necessary sometimes).  I decided that Political Troy has to be the way he is; I wish he didn't.  As a warning, if you run into him and get a look or told what to do or whatever, just remember Political Troy is doing this because he believes in the candidates.  And thinks that the constituents, Congress, and the country will benefit from them being elected.  Good cause, good cause.  Oh, and if you're not doing something productive, get out of his way.  (Go to my house - because Political Troy isn't allowed there.  My kids have never even met him.)