the dreaded christmas letter

I'm having a bit of trouble with the annual Christmas letter this year. Normally, I have a short list of "events" with running commentary. This year, a letter like that might just seem a bit dramatic (short list: baby born, dad died, pregnant again) or trite (since how exactly do you "quantify" life-altering events like these in a few simple sentences?)
I think I'm also starting to feel the pressure (self-inflicted, of course) to have my letter mean something, emote something, or be something more than it is (a family update). I have exhausted my anecdotes and cute little Jesus stories of past years. Even my husband tonight suggested I play off of the Rent song "Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes" (How do you measure a year? In love). Great idea, except that I did that last year. So, here I am, at the last minute as usual, procrastinating by posting a blog about my unwritten christmas letter!
Perhaps at the root of it all is that I have yet to spend some personal time of contemplation and prayer, thanking God for the blessings and trials of the past year, and seeking meaning from Him. It's my consolation that if words fail me, at least recipients will get a handsome Christmas photo of the family and be spared the dirty details (of Eden's potty training and the like!).