Balance sheets and baby steps

Tags

Family, Thank you, The PaperHOME

I don’t wanna take the tree down. Even though we’re almost two weeks past Christmas our tree is still up, still decorated and still lit. And even though she’s a fake, she is starting to look a bit past her prime. As much as I want to cling to the Christmas cheer, I have to face the fact that it’s time. The season is over.

Lucky for me, I love the season that is now upon us: the one whose recipe consists of equal parts reflection and organization. Tax season. And it comes with its own decorations. Time to wrap up the tree, the ornaments, the lights and in the space left, pile the bankers’ boxes, manila folders and alphabetized labels.

I love reflecting, but I think I do it too much. I get so wrapped up in wistful retrospection, I become distracted from the present. I’m such a romantic about it, it actually bleeds into the business to the point where I actually like the tedious end-of-year tasks that owning a business brings. Running reports, filing W2s, 1099s, balance sheets; I kind of get a kick out of it. Good or bad, those numbers are there to guide you.

In that sense running a business is a lot like raising kids. Even though kids don’t come with spreadsheets and bar graphs, there are measurable moments and the accolades that accompany them.

Growth charts, first steps, first words, potty training, the first home run, first medals – the list goes on and on and, quite frankly, can be far more encouraging than what we see on the business side of things. But when you’re running a family business, in much the same way as the moniker suggests, the two types of growth charts become fused. Even though the first “I love you” coherently articulated by your two year old is far more valuable than your first dividend payout, both chart an upswing in production.

And both should be celebrated.

So we are, and we continue to celebrate and to give thanks to those of you who make both of those graphs tick in the upward position: our customers and our friends.

Thank you for a blessed 2011. We look forward to continuing to serve you in 2012.

Okay, okay. I admit defeat. I've tried for awhile now to perfect photography (although, I obviously did not take this one). Even though it is grainy and out of focus, it does have artistic value ... the blur of children and wrapping paper is a true representation of what our living room looked like on Christmas Day.

And check it out, Joey is trying to bring back The Sprinkler. All the way from 1977.

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Tidings of thanksgiving

Tags

community support, Thank you, The PaperHOME

I’ve been working on this post for awhile now. I want to make sure I nail it. I want to get the wording right, but – even more than that – I want to be sure the emotion is just-so. I want all of my readers to know exactly how I feel … all ten of you.

Which is actually my point. That sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest differences.

This means something to me, this time of year, and it seems I am almost always in a state of reflection. Maybe it’s the constant baking or decorating, the fun yet tedious tasks of the holidays that allow our minds to wander. Whatever it is, I’m glad for it because it helps me to look around at all we have, to reflect on how far we’ve come and to truly be thankful that we’re here in the now. And I want to be here in this now, soaking it all in.

Even though it feels like we’ve only just blinked and suddenly wound up with two four year olds and a very vocal and bossy 20-month-old, the truth is we’ve covered a lot of ground getting here. Some winding roads, a couple detours perhaps, but all of them pointing straight to this moment, this setting … of thanksgiving.

Sometimes it’s the small things that can bring us the most joy … A photo album filled with memories, a roar of laughter spilling out of the living room, the smell of pumpkin bread filtering throughout the house or our small family-owned store chugging along in these uncertain times. And what’s truly special about those things is the fact that they are all fueled in large part by you, our customers and our friends.

Handwritten place settings are about as crafty as I get ...

.... but - even if Jack's expression doesn't show it - the boys loved being a part of the preparations.

And that’s worth being thankful for. All of those little things, the small ways in which we are supported by our customers and our community, equal one big and very happy family. When you shop at our store – or any small business – you are doing more than supporting a locally owned operation, you are supporting a family. You are allowing us to raise our children here, in a community that we have always longed to be a part of. The business the town of St. Maries provides us allows me to stay at home with my children, something I’ve always hoped to be able to do.

Thank you for your continued business and your support. We hope to serve you through the Christmas season and into the new year. We hope that you stay with us as our children grow, and perhaps we can watch as another limb to The Paperhouse family tree sprouts.

Yes, it is most certainly the simplest things that bring us the most joy, which is fitting, considering the simple message I am hoping to convey: Thank you.

And as we’re all reflecting tonight on the things that make us happy, here are a few of my favorites …

The way that a string of Christmas lights and a row of stockings can transform a room and create that tingle of electric magic throughout our home for an entire season …

Recording hilarious moments like these (Jack has no idea what’s about to hit him…)

And this. Catching Joey in a place she most certainly should not be … but seeing her there, sitting in the office chair with that perfect posture, hands resting attentively on the keyboard, flashed me forward 15 years. I realized that this, this moment, does not always need to be scolded. Because pretty soon I’ll wish that she was still looking this way, wide eyes peering at me over her ever-present binkie, and I’ll wish that I had preserved this memory more vividly. So I let her tap at the keys a bit longer while I clicked away with the camera. Except I think my plan might have backfired because now she wants an iPad for Christmas …