To Our Dear Friends & Family -

What a wonderful year 2009 has turned out to be, on so many levels. It seems just like yesterday I was
painstakingly using my hand to write, with ink, both a personal note and our names on each and every card we
send out to over 500 beautiful families. Michael tells me people should realize it’s important to have some kind
of warmth added to these computer-generated marketing pieces, and in spite of the carpel tunnel – I agree.
Because we want all of you to know how much we care, especially during this time of year.

Writing isn’t a problem now because I’m SO rested these days - mainly because I was able to convince Michael
to go through a series of procedures in 2009. We had his tonsils removed, and his adenoids, and his uvula (the
Dr. said it was HUGE!) and now I even have him sleeping every night with a CPAP machine attached to his face
(the clear mask with the air tubes attached to a small generator). Yes it’s a bit clunky to travel with, and it’s not
particularly attractive, and its scary to the kids (our 4 year old, Alex, asked one morning if “daddy was in a
coma”) but the nasal strips and the special indented pillow and the face wrap wasn’t working. Neither was my
nightly bottle of red wine and double- and triple-dosing my prescription Ambien! Michael insists that married
couples should sleep in the same bed, through the entire night, and because he won’t give up his drinking, it was
off to the Doctor with him. I have to say I am so proud of him – because you ask any ENT doctor and they’ll tell
you, at his age, these procedures are far more painful than childbirth. But that’s my husband! He’s so
thoughtful – and generous. If that wasn’t enough, for my birthday this year, he got a vasectomy and gave me his
old iPhone!

And you all know how creative Michael can be. Well in 2009, after years of arguing whether or not we should
spank our children, Michael created a way to hit the kids, but make it a game involving money. The way it works
is if Michael smacks say, Luke, in the back of the head – without warning or reason – Luke gets to collect a
dollar. If, however, Luke does something to warrant the smack, and Daddy feels compelled to whack him, then
Luke owes Daddy the dollar. I can say that once I got over the initial shock of the sound of his hand connecting
with that part of the back of the head (it’s loud, but sounds worse than it is), it’s kind of fun and the kids enjoy it.
Now, countless times a week I hear the kids yell from all over the house “You owe me a dollar Daddy!!!” And
Chayton walks around complaining that Daddy doesn’t hit her as much as he hits the other two, and Luke is
bragging about his growing 529-college savings balance. There is one, key rule: You’re not allowed to smack
with any kind of instrument other than your hand. That’s very important. We had to teach Alex that lesson - but
waited until after the emergency room visit with Chayton to explain it to the 4 year old. Light sabers, even fake
ones, are weapons, Alex. Weapons. I will admit – I do find it a little irritating when the kids want to add to their
weekly allowance, or they want popcorn at the movie theater, or some new toy from Target, and they line up with
their heads down and say “Hit me Daddy!” and then Michael smiles and winds up and WHACK’s them 5 or 10
times in a row, and then hands over the money. I get concerned about reports from school at some point...

Speaking of school, the 3rd mortgage we took out this year allowed us to shell out another $50,000 for private
school for Luke (who’s in 2nd grade) and Chayton (she’s now in 4th). This time next year, we will owe $75,000
for the privilege of adding Alex to the mix – and we’ll have three kids in Kindergarten thru 5. Oh, how the time
flies! Michael and I have had a running argument this year about how we should handle Alex. I say he needs to
go to the same private school as his brother and sister. Michael would like to conduct a social experiment and see
how Alex does in public school. Sort of like a champion/challenger thing. Michael’s point is that you don’t really
retain anything from Kindergarten, and Alex does still wet the bed on occasion, and is basic letter and number
recognition and strong, fine motor skills really worth another $25,000? The argument got so heated at one point
this year that I actually took on an odd job just to quell the discussion, so if you need someone who’s really good
at picking out nits and lice – I’m your gal. ($150 an hour). This has turned out to be quite a profitable little
venture, though it’s now sometimes tough to make sure dinner is on the table every night.

Lice. Those little vermin invaded our private school this year, and my oh my! what a couple of weeks that was.
The upside, (in addition to my new company Nitpickers Now – We Pick Your Nits! www.nitpickersnow.com or
follow us on Twitter), is that Mommy got to buy new couches and bedding and rugs this year! The decorator
winked at me when we decided that Michael’s prized leather chair (read: eyesore), just had to be disposed of
immediately. For fear of a relapse, of course. What was he going to say, really? The two weeks of my life I
spent fumigating the house, and the kid’s hair, then doing a strand-by-strand nit & lice hunt while HE was off on
business in Puerto Rico, and Trinidad, and St. Vincent in the Caribbean just left no room for argument. The kids
and I got through it, finally, and we all have new hairstyles to boot!

There is a bit of sad news to report – and that is we lost our beloved cat of 15 years, Fidgeameena Wallowitz (she
was a pure bred Himalayan). The kids were ultimately really devastated by the whole thing, we think – in spite
of the fact that when I brought home the sentimental little paw print in the cement thing the vet gave me after we
put her down, and placed it on the mantel and told the kids, solemnly, that Fidge won’t be coming home and when
Alex said “why mommy” I had to say “Fidge died today Alex” and then Chayton said “YES we can get a DOG
NOW!” and high-fived Luke, it sorta forced a circle-of-life conversation that took a little time, because I wanted
them to at least appear morose when Michael got home. I went away that weekend to a previously planned girls
trip, and that darling husband of mine decided to plunck down over five hundred dollars for a Persian kitten, and
then had the AUDACITY to tell me it was a Mother’s Day present from the kids! I almost backed the car over
that little hairy furball “Mother’s Day present” when I walked into our playroom and saw the @#($*! hanging
from my multi-thousand-dollar curtains and it wasn’t too long after that we pluncked down another $1000 to chop
off both his balls and his claws. The kids named our new kitten Bono. He’s adorable.

Michael and I have really been doing well. We only had 16 arguments this year (down from 27 in 2008), and
we’re trending well. What’s our secret, you wonder? I have to say, together we watch the series “Mad Men”
(AMC, Sunday nights), and it’s really helped restore balance to our marriage. Mad Men is set in the early 1960’s
– before cell phones, seatbelts, recycling, women in the workplace, liberation movements, M.A.D.D., etc – and is
eerily reminiscent of the marketing company Michael runs today. So after a year or so of me sort of re-
engineering myself into a 1960’s wife, I decided to culminate and celebrate my transformation by surprising
Michael for his birthday. I dressed up like Betty, the lead character’s wife, in Mad Men 1960’s fashion (hair
done up and sprayed with a nice flip, a beautiful dress, high heels, red lip stick, apron) – and prepared homemade
lasagna, meatballs, spinach salad with goat cheese, his favorite carrot cake for dessert – ALL FROM SCRATCH
mind you. Had the balloons ready. The kids all clean and dressed like Leave it to Beaver, candles lit, and even
had the crystal goblet of scotch ready to go for his arrival at 5:30. When 8:45 rolled around and I was into my
2nd bottle of white wine, and he comes in drunk because his coworkers and friends took him out for a “couple of
pops” it was all I could do NOT to fling the scotch bottle at his head. “What would Betty do?” I said to myself.
“What would Betty do?!” So I kept on the 1960’s smile, and served up that delicious, if lukewarm, lasagna, and
we did the birthday thing as if nothing ever happened. The old Shaheen would’ve behaved differently, I think.

I could go on and on and on about 2009, but I think that about covers the big things from this year. As you can
tell, we truly are blessed. We hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Sending you much love, from your very tanned and very prosperous friends in Florida,

The Hemseys
Shaheen (37), Michael (38), Chayton (9), Luke (7), Alex (4), Cheburashka (17), and Bono (1)