December 28, 2007

A Christmas Memory

Christmas with my side of the family can be a bit overwhelming. Every year, my mom and her two youngest sisters take turns hosting the celebration. This tradition began in 1981, as a way for my grandmother, Alice, to spend time with all seven of her children, their spouses and her grandchildren.

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been gathering every Christmas for the last twenty-six years. That first celebration was the smallest, because not all of my aunts and uncles were married, but as our families expanded, year after year, it became a challenge to cram almost forty people in one location.

My mother is the oldest, followed by her sisters, Judy, Donna and Mary, and her brothers, Michael, Carl and Paul. Out of seven kids, only two are unmarried. In order to understand the insanity in my family, I’ll give you a little back-story.

My mom and her sister Judy are very close, and my aunts, Donna and Mary are inseparable. Besides being sisters, they are best friends and very often exclude my mom and Aunt Judy from conversations and events. I could even say that there’s a small rivalry between families.

Both aunts were stay-at-home parents, married to husbands with high-paying mill jobs. Both Donna and Mary each have five children that are very close in age to the other’s kids, and the two families have been known to spend a lot of time together.

It should be said that I’m the firstborn grandchild, followed by my cousin, Hedy, who is two years younger than me. Hedy and I were “best friends” until our high school years when we drifted apart. We really didn’t have much in common as the years went by.

Hedy and her sisters have gone to prestigious universities, they work for prominent companies, and they travel across the country, as well as internationally, and they usually date very good-looking boyfriends. It can be rather intimidating to listen to them speak of their latest accomplishment or amazing trip to Amsterdam (or was it Paris?).

I’ve never felt the need to compete with my cousins, but my aunts seem to measure a person’s “worth” by their social status, how much money they make, or the clothes they wear. They’ll never admit it, but sometimes I feel as though I’m being compared to their very gorgeous, thin, single, childless daughters.

This Christmas was held at my parents’ house. When my cousins arrived I felt the dread of having to make conversation with these very accomplished girls. I know it sounds like I’m jealous, but that isn’t the case. I’m very proud of my cousins’ successes – they’ve worked very hard to get where they are – but I find it difficult to listen to them brag about how “wonderful” they are and the “amazing” lives they lead. Are they trying to impress me? Are they insecure about one part of their lives so they embellish the details of another part? Who knows?

I tried to be polite and courteous, and I did my best to keep a smile on my face and be interested in their lives, but part of me thought, “Who cares?” Not one of my cousins asked me about my life, or about Dawson or about my job. It wasn’t until my sister brought up my blogging that they took an interest.

If I had a dollar for every time I was asked what a blog was, or what BlogHer was all about, I could afford my own trip to Amsterdam (or perhaps Paris?). My very liberal cousins were shocked to discover that I write about conservative politics. And my awesome sister did some bragging on my behalf.

“She writes for BlogHer.com,” Rachel said. “And, she’s really good at it. And she’s going to New York and San Francisco, too, for the blogging conferences.”

I laughed inside, because of the raised eyebrows and strange looks I was getting. Thankfully, my brother, Frankie, put on the videotape from Christmas 1989 (saved by the TV!), to break up the tension in the room. My uncle, Mike, had brought his VHS recorder and documented our holiday celebration that year. Frank thought it would be fun to watch that old video.

I smiled when I saw Grandma Alice on the screen. It’s been two years since her death (she died December 6, 2005) and I miss her terribly. It was amazing that everyone gathered around the television to reminisce the early Christmas parties we had. How fast time goes by.

The best part of watching this old tape was that it took place in the house I live in now. We bought my childhood home from my parents five years ago when they built their dream house. My husband had never seen our home prior to the addition my dad built to the back of the house in 1991.

It was so foreign to look at that old floor plan. I had forgotten about that ugly brown linoleum in the old kitchen, which is currently underneath the current flooring. I laughed when I saw the old deck door (which is now an open entry-way to our current dining room). I remember that the lock was broken, so my mother put a dowelling rod behind it, “just in case burglars try to get it.” It never occurred to her that they would probably just break the glass.

And then, I heard Grandma’s voice coming through the speakers and I started crying. As I write this, the tears are rolling down my cheeks. Eighteen years ago, on December 25, Grandma Alice was sitting in my living room, watching her grandchildren open their Christmas presents.

My Christmas tree is in the same spot my mother place our tree in 1989. If I close my eyes, I can see it all again – no VHS required. I can smell the real tree my father cut from the local Christmas tree farm. I can see the mountains of presents underneath it, the flashing multi-colored string of lights, the handmade ornaments my siblings and I made.

My youngest brother, Frank wasn’t even born yet, so my sister was the baby of the family. I remember painting her finger and toenails and crimping her hair for the Christmas party.

I laughed when Grandma Alice said, “Honest to God, Mikey!” to my uncle as he videotaped her. She didn’t want to be on camera, but thank the Lord she was! I’m so grateful we could look back on that Christmas, eighteen years ago. I still can’t get over how fast time goes by…

I remember that Grandma made Polish sausage (kielbasa), and how the awful smell of sauerkraut wafted through the air when someone lifted the lid on the crock-pot.

I remember Aunt Judy getting a little tipsy from eggnog – or maybe she was just sugared up on Diet Pepsi (it wasn’t caffeine-free at that time) — and telling us she once ran naked through the woods on the farm.

I remember saying my prayers with Grandma — the “Our Father” and the “Hail Mary” — and how proud she was that I prayed with her. I remember the nativity, and how we celebrated the birth of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

As we watched that videotape, I began to realize that it doesn’t matter what clothes we wear, or how much money we make, that proves whether we are a worthy person.

We must cherish the reason we gathered together in the first place. We gathered to celebrate the birth of Christ. We celebrated with our loved ones, our families. We gathered to cherish the many blessings we’ve been given. We gathered together to treat each other with kindness, respect and love. That’s what it’s all about. That is what really matters.

December 24, 2007

Christmas Eve Greetings

This morning I have to work four hours and then I’m off for seven and a half days. I can’t tell you how excited I am to not have to worry about work for awhile. I’ve been looking forward to this “vacation” (hard to call it that when there’s a shit load of white, fluffy snow on the ground), for a very long time.

Dawson is going to Renee’s house today and I’m so grateful she agreed to care for him for that short period of time. Otherwise I might have had to beg my mom or my mother-in-law for help. I would feel terrible doing that, because they are each getting their ducks in a row for the Christmas celebrations.

This evening we plan to attend the 4 p.m. mass because our church is very large. Over 2,000 families attend St. Bronislava’s Catholic Church and the masses on Christmas Day are so packed that not a pew is available. The ushers set up chairs in the lobby and gathering space before each mass and even those seats fill up!

Doug has to work from 8 a.m to 4 p.m, but he’s going to try to sneak out of work early. If that can’t be done we’ll probably hit the 10 p.m. church service. That’s the best one because of the beautiful Christmas carols the choir sings. We’ll see how the day goes.

We’re heading to my in-laws this evening to celebrate Christmas with them. Dawson is VERY, VERY!! excited about all the presents Santa Claus is bringing him.

Tomorrow we spend the holiday with my insane family. Good times, laughter and cheer will be had by all (especially because my family is full of nuts).

Here are some funny photos from last night. While I spent several hours cleaning Dawson’s messy room, he decided to dress himself in his “favowitt cwose”.

More photos here.

December 9, 2007

Christmas Photo Card Review

Every year since Dawson was born we’ve taken our Christmas card photo on Thanksgiving. We started this tradition because we figured we were already wearing our “Holiday Best”, and since we were celebrating with family there was always someone around to keep both Dawson and Murphy (our dog) occupied and looking at the camera.

But we didn’t adhere to our tradition this year. Thanksgiving came and went, and I just didn’t have the time to wrangle a child and a dog and manipulate the self-timer on the camera to squeeze the whole family into a photo.

So we cheated. This year we only captured Dawson and Murphy. But lets review the holiday cards of the past, shall we?

There was 2004:

And then 2005, with a screaming toddler:

And 2006, in which we all look so cheerful:

I suppose you expect to see the 2007 Christmas card, but I’m not going to show it on the blog until after each card is mailed out. It wouldn’t be right to give you all a sneak peek.

Instead, let’s take a look at the photos we didn’t use:

Stay tuned for the 2007 Christmas Photo Card! I can’t wait to show y’all!

November 21, 2007

I confess…

That today is False Confessions Day. My confession is that I’m very, very, VERY excited about this. Heh.

Thanksgiving. Tomorrow. Turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole. I can feel my hips widening at the very thought of the desserts that will line my mother’s buffet. I’m bringing the Blueberry Cheeseycake. Grandma’s recipe never fails to satisfy the sugary appetites of my family, and of course it sticks right to my thighs.

I still haven’t gotten the ingredients I need from the grocery store. I’m procrastinating and I have no excuse for this behavior. Especially when I was at the store yesterday to get stir-fry seasoning. I just didn’t have the patience to deal with it. More about that in a moment.

Yesterday I left work and hour early because I had an appointment for my annual eye exam. Dr. Rollins’ office was remodeled over the summer and it’s really nice. I worked for Doc six years ago for about six months and I couldn’t get over the change in the floor layout and design theme. It’s bright yellow and cheery now, as opposed to mauve and dark. Doc lectured me about not wearing my contacts and relying on my glasses. He thinks the migraines I experience are due to constantly putting on and taking off my glasses too much throughout the day. Back to lenses it is.

After the eye exam, I went to get my hair cut. I was originally going for just a trim, but I told Liz (my stylist) to chop it up and make me look funky. Boy, did she. I’ll put up a photo asap. It’s longer in the front and mucho short in the back. I can’t explain it very well, a photo will be required to give you the idea. I suppose it’s kind of like a crooked bowl-cut. I think?

When I got home after my appointments, I was in no mood to run back out to the store. Doug wasn’t sure what to make for dinner and I begged him to find something in the freezer to thaw. We agreed on stir-fry but realized we had no seasoning, other than ginger. I mean, what do you put in besides ginger? Garlic? Pepper? My husband even called the grocery store where he works to ask one of the guys to read the label on the stir-fry seasoning to see if we could match it at home. No dice.

I reluctantly put my shoes back on and drove the 1/2 mile to Copps Food Center. While there, I grabbed the seasoning and ran to stand in line behind the morons nice people in the check-out lanes. These idiots lovely patrons were doing their last minute holiday shopping. Their carts were piled high with stuff, the lines were long, and every single lane was open. Do you think I had the common sense to go back and get the graham crackers, cream cheese and pie filling I needed? No….that would be too difficult.

I rationalized by saying there were too many people in the store and I didn’t want to have to climb over carts to get what I needed. Besides that, I didn’t want to lose my place in the line I stood in for twenty-five minutes. The only moron in that store was me.

As if today will be any different? Hardly. And yet, I have to go back there and get the junk or else my father will be very disappointed that he didn’t get his annual dish of blueberry torte this Thanksgiving.

The good news is that I won’t have to drag Dawson to the store with me. My father is picking him up from daycare today, and Dawson will be staying overnight at my parents’ house. I packed his Lightning McQueen suitcase with pajamas and a change of clothes, and he’s taking his Kermit the Frog sleeping bag with him. This morning, I was explaining to Dawson what a sleeping bag is and how he’ll use that when he goes to bed tonight. When we got to daycare he ran up to Renee and said, “Look at my sleeping frog, Nae!” We both couldn’t stop laughing.

I’m wishing this workday would end quickly…I want to go home and drink an entire bottle of wine tonight! You know, because Dawson is sleeping elsewhere! Holy crap! This means Doug and I can sleep in our own bed next to each other!

Are you procrastinating this holiday season?