The Christmas card and the family newsletter

Haven't sent any Christmas cards this year. Not enough time, what with moving house and finishing the building work both happening in the same week as last posting dates. And that week also featured the boy's second birthday, so I felt a modicum of pressure to ensure it was at least acknowledged in some way (Waitrose cake, helium balloons, lunch at the pub by the swings with friends and family for the record).

Well, that's not strictly true: I have sent 43 Christmas cards this year. A few to local, new friends but the vast majority to every single house on our new road. I suppose I felt that it was the perfect opportunity to introduce ourselves and get rid of all my old unused Christmas cards that I don't much like, all for the sake of a couple of hours' investment. And since then, we've had cards - with our names spelt correctly (a big deal!) - from number 22, number 4, number 54 and number 21 who obviously are kindred recycling spirits since they sent us a card in the very envelope we'd sent theirs in. So what with that and the party last week at number 25, we're slowly getting to know who everyone is.

Speaking of recycling, I'm quite glad of the excuse not to send many Christmas cards this year. Obviously they are a fantastic way to keep in touch with old friends and family, but so are email and Facebook. I also understand that there's a warm cosy feeling attached to receiving a physical card through the letterbox, but I'd kind of like that feeling spread through the year instead of concentrated on one or two weeks when the deluge of incoming cards means the warmth and cosiness are overwhelmed by sheer volume. And to be honest, I've spent a lot of this year thinking about the amount of waste we generate as a family and trying not to be mindblown when I try to fathom what that means in terms of sheer physical mass, when you multiply it by the number of households in Richmond, or Surrey, or the UK.

So yes, I'm trying to be more green about my decisions, but what does that mean for keeping in touch at this time of year? Is our only other option the dreaded family e-newsletter? And what's my beef with said family e-newsletter anyway? Well, let's see. I suppose there are rarely any questions and I think a letter should have questions; they're way too impersonal unless you're a genius with a mail merge; and they're a bit... self-congratulatory. In my humble opinion. And I'm happy to be proved wrong on that.

But that's not it either. I think my beef with family e-newsletters is that I'd secretly quite like to send one out. I want to tell everyone about my family's year, add pictures of us smiling in the snow, and describe (vaguely, so as not to bore) our trip to Ireland and our house renovation. But at the moment I can't reconcile that with my ancient vow never to subject anyone else to a diatribe all about me.

There's also the fact that I feel those newsletters are the sole reserve of the middle class family. What about those who aren't settled down with children, when do they get to have their moment of electronic glory? I'd love for that army to rise up. I want e-newsletters from all my thirtysomething single friends detailing great nights out, exciting creative projects, blurred photos of Mr Wrongs. That's what I want to read, not "Life with a toddler has its challenges!" for the eighth time.

So for now, I'm going to try to stoke the fires of email and start writing proper individual missives, ones that invite reply and discourse, to the people that matter. And I'm going to try to keep replying when they write back. And maybe next year will be my moment - when I finally throw up my arms, shriek at the moon, and start writing "Life with a toddler has its challenges"...