Holiday Traditions/Hide The Pickle?

As I'm FINALLY completing my display of obnoxious Christmas decorations, that I've been 'working on' for 2 weeks now, I'm laughing to myself. I'm thinking about how wonderful, yet silly, some of this really is. In our family, we don't go to church unless there is a wedding or baptism that requires our attendance, we don't talk Bible, we don't even own a nativity scene. Yet... we look forward to, and celebrate our kiesters off at Christmas every year. Christmas, to me, is about family, friends, parties, and everything sparkly and twinkly that go along with those things. (Especially some of my friends... so much twinkle...) :) I have Rubbermaid tote, upon Rubbermaid tote, FULL of feathery, puffy, furry, sparkly, blingy, musical, red, gold, and silver items... that I replace family photos and such with, to display for not even 2 months... year after year. God forbid I stop at Home Goods this time of year, or it's off to Target for 2 more bins, for the crap I just 'HAD' to have for my tacky display. I have an overly-decorated tree on both levels of my home, every table or inch of open space... is filled with some sort of decoration. Each member of my family has had their stockings replaced at least 6 times, to match whatever my 'theme' is. I mean... You can't have red, leopard stockings next to blue and purple lights. You just can't.  My Sister and I grew up this way, and have just kept it up as our tradition. Christmas lists are made by October, trees are up on Thanksgiving, cookies are made the following week, villages (That we painted ourselves for years... complete with the one labeled the 'crack house'... that she painted when she was 7) displayed some time that same week. She isn't as bad as I am with the severity of tackiness... but she's close. This is Christmas in our family. Whether it is right or wrong to you... it is so right to us.

I remember the first year my Husband (My boyfriend at the time) and I spent Christmas together, 13 years ago. I wasn't sure it wasn't going to be the last, as I nerded out completely, and even purchased him his own collection of sparkly, holiday decor. He looked at me like I was mental, (or had just smoked something 'special'... that I hadn't shared with him.) :) He complied with my fanatical wishes, and put it all up. Every last bit of it. In his tiny apartment. What a good sport. Seriously... I just thought that that was normal, and any boy would think I was an amazing girlfriend for going to such lengths for his holiday viewing pleasure. I didn't really get that not everyone's traditions are the same. It was interesting to me to learn about his family's traditions. They don't have many, nor do they go as overboard as my family, but they were still important traditions. They mostly revolved around food and mass quantities of gifts. Not so much trees, Santas, lights and glitter. My favorite, however, was some 'Hide the Pickle' game. I had heard of it, and always thought it had something to do with which child gets to open gifts first... but he is an only child... so it didn't make sense. He did try to explain the 'Hide the Pickle' game to me that holiday. He gave me the run down, and a quick demonstration... and proceeded to fricken knock me up. On Christmas Eve. I'm still not convinced he didn't leave out a few details about that game... Or if that was even one of their actual traditions. We never played it again. True story. :)

Whatever your religious denomination is, (I think we are Episcopalian... but don't quote me) whether your family traditions revolve around Jesus, food, booze, elves on shelves, hiding pickles, or decorating and entertaining... it is pretty awesome to me that for one month out of the year, we all have something to celebrate, and be 'spirited' about. Whatever this season brings to you that brings you joy... is what it's all about :) I like that. I better go turn my outside lights on now. I do believe NASA has been depending on us as a satellite reference point these days :)

Mom Jeans and Mom Genes

I recently had a conversation with a long time friend of mine. It was going well... We were chatting about premature wrinkles, being fat, and periods... the usual stuff... and then, out of nowhere, she told me I had 'Mom jeans'. To which I replied, "Thanks, bitch. You do too?" (Are we in a fight?)  She clarified, and told me she actually said 'The Mom GENE', and I immediately apologized... and agreed.  I AM a pretty awesome Mom after all... Neurotic, hovery, overly honest, a bit obnoxious from time to time... but awesome in my own way.

It started me thinking about so many things. What actually constitutes having the mom gene? Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? Was she judging me? ARE we in a fight? Is it my minivan? I live in Eden Prairie... most people don't judge that choice... :) Do I have to wear mom jeans... in order to have the mom gene? Do I have to give up swearing, smoking and drinking? Am I exempt from genetic 'Momming' if I don't? Is it weird that you can tell me all sorts of nice things about me... and I don't care. (Not that I don't listen...very carefully... to those things...) But you say I have the mom gene and I wanna jump through the phone and make out with you? Why does that have such an impact on me? And then I figured it out...

When you first have a baby, you are so excited/nervous/confused (Mostly about the belly button to mid-spine diaper they give you, the mesh-like underpants...and the weird little squirt bottle...) that you really don't take into account the enormity of what you just did. You made a life... from scratch. It's all on you to not screw it up, and it's all consuming from here on out. It becomes your job, and the most important fete of your life. No choice you make, will ever be made again... without taking them into account. You do weird things like give up your body (sad face) and your kick ass career, so you can be home with them. Cleaning up poop, vomit, snot and food messes becomes a way of life. As does becoming a taxi, and a human napkin/kleenex/paper towel, but you couldn't be happier. You Feel guilty when you are having fun.... and they aren't. (Like...when you drink copious amounts of wine at a holiday, and they are bored to tears, playing with Tupperware at Grandpa's house...) You even shield them from silly things... like your Halloween costumes, so they aren't scared by your Vampire teeth, or grossed out and mortified when you dress up like Pamela Anderson... and your boobs are on the outside of your shirt. You become a crazy person at the park... making sure other people's brats aren't taking too long on the 2 swings that are available. Your kid needs a turn now. Move it, punk. :) You try to curb your mouth so they don't pick up your habits of swearing like a trucker. And, most importantly... you overcompensate for all the things you didn't get to do, or would change, from your own childhood. (For example... competition dance...and my obsessive hovering...) Weird stuff. There is a sense of pride when people tell you you are doing well at this most important job. It is the ultimate compliment. :)

We all have things we hated our Moms for. Like the time they grounded us before our best friend's huge party, (that EVERYONE in my grade got to go to but me...still bitter...) not letting us have sleepovers at certain friend's houses anymore, where it was really fun and there were never parents around... due to numerous calls from the Edina police department... and various other things that they did for our own good. But, for most of us, the reasons we love and need our Moms, completely negate those things. (Except for the party...still can't get over it) They wiped our tears, explained sex and periods more realistically than the school nurse, let you have huge parties when your boyfriend cheated on you, (I got to have lots... and lots of parties...) helped you when you needed it... and when you didn't... and helped guide us through the icky times, when nobody else gave a shit. As much as we don't want to admit it, a lot of us 'mother' just like our Moms did. It's comforting. I find myself saying "What would my Mom do about this?" more and more these days. (Don't tell her I said that...) It cracks me up. My whole life I thought I knew more than she did. She embarrassed me, scolded me, and meddled in my biz. Now I'm so grateful she did. Hindsight is an amazing thing. I will make tons of mistakes along the way. Hopefully none we can't recover from promptly. I will never forget to pack an afternoon snack for my daughter on the first day of Kindergarten again...I swear. :) I hope my kids look back on these years and know I gave up a lot,  and did the best I could, to be able to proudly wear mom jeans... (Baby steps though... Maybe I'll start with pajama jeans...) They are my best, little creations. :)

Christmas in Minnesota... Two Ways.

If you were to say to someone, who does not live in Minnesota, the phrase "Christmas time in Minnesota" They would most likely have a visual that goes something like this:

In a rural area... a family of overweight, jolly farmers, loads up into their sensible vehicle and heads to the 'cities' to do some shopping. Their hair is amazing... complete with big perm and sensual mullet. The children have trouble seeing because their eyeballs are squished between chubby cheeks and thick bangs. There would also, most likely, be a loose cannon teenager...who is some sort of 'Emo'... moping in the back seat. On their way to the Mall of America, they would stop at Fleet Farm and Walmart. All the while, little, sparkly snowflakes are falling from the sky....and they are happy about it. Like it is some sort of Christmas miracle or something ridiculous like that. It goes right along with the Christmas carols they are singing (in unison) all the way there. It's pretty and somewhat 'magical'. They arrive at the mall and it is busy with happy, smiling people...who are being super 'Minnesota nice' and can't wait to give up their parking spot...because they have children with them. They go sit on Santa's lap for a family Christmas card picture...and everyone is smiling (Except Emo...but that goes without saying. The emotions are overwhelming...anybody bring a razor blade?)) The cashiers are thrilled that there are long lines of people waiting patiently to check out, and are super pleasant and talkative, while going back through their purchases and 'fixing' things they may have not given them the discount on. The sales associates at each store are eagerly waiting to show them the perfect gift for each person on their list. They nosh on exotic treats like Cinnabon.  They head back to the rural parts with full bellies, a completed list...and even Emo cracks a smile. All and all....the day is a success! Now they just have to wait for Santa to come! YAY!!

When in truth... it would go  a little more like this:

An exhausted, Suburban Mother, hustles her family in the car, kicking, screaming, and whining that it's cold and they would rather stay home and play video games. (Her Husband remains at home. He only buys one gift each year, after all. Something for her...that he makes a huge production about presenting to her. They all gather around and 'ooo and aaa' over his purchase. Something that is not even remotely close to the gift she was hoping for... the one she dropped hints about all year? But then again, it's the thought that counts. She doesn't want to seem ungrateful...) The all have bed head, because she couldn't get them to sit down long enough to comb that shit out. One kid has a fever and is coughing and sneezing all over the other children. Sure to spread those germs to unknowing patrons of whatever store that kid decides to wipe his nose on the cart of... but it doesn't matter. They DO make cart wipes that take care of that now...right? They will go anyway, because today is the day that there are sales, and she has an extra 30% off coupon.  She narrowly misses a head on collision... cuz it's fricken snowing... AGAIN. People are aggressively trying to get to the mall right along with her. She panics and just parks the damn car. They walk the equivalent of 5 city blocks to get to the door. The kids are pissed... but she's on a mission. She tries to get them to sing 'Let it Snow" and they all burst into tears and throw themselves on the ground in some sort of well thought out rotation. Did someone crap? They now all have a filthy, dirty mixture of ice, snow, and dirt... spackled all over their pants. Fabulous. Just Fabulous.
The mall is packed, and there are lines to get in to the door of each store for which she has coupons. Doesn't anybody work anymore? Aren't we in a  recession? They make a beeline for Santa. They wait for 45 minutes (Not too bad, actually) and when it is their turn... Creepy Santa scares the shit out of the youngest. Literally. He fills his pants, screams, and almost has a seizure from lack of oxygen. It ruins the picture that she sneakily takes, with her own camera, while nobody is looking. Oh well...it IS kinda funny. Kind of. Patience still somewhat in tact, and Christmas cards are done. (In theory, anyway...) :)
They head for the first store. There is a hot item there that she needs to get for her Dad. She rounds the corner... and some ass face is yanking the last one off the shelf. She could cry... but what's the point? She can't let that single man...with no children... know he got to her. She'll just go the same store, 45 minutes from her house, to get one. No biggie. Moving right along... there are 12 other people she needs to buy gifts for. Same thing happens with each item on her list. There is not one sales 'associate' in sight to help her find something... better? Or comparable? They are all super busy helping old, deaf people try different telephones...with large buttons. How hard is it? Pick a damn phone already!!! Ugh... Off to some quieter stores to get some suitable...yet not quite right... gifts, instead of the intended.
In lieu of yelling profanities in strangers' faces... she grabs the kids and heads to McDonalds in the food court. They haven't eaten in 5 hours, and the low blood sugar is keeping them awfully quiet by now. She almost thinks twice...but they need to eat. That actually goes well. They peacefully hound down McNuggets and fries. She breathes a sigh of relief, while lists... and lists about lists... are compiling in her head. Why do she and her Husband have to BOTH come from dysfunctional families? Nobody could bring themselves to just stay married? Assholes. Four families are just too much. Every year. Too fucking much.
She stuffs the 3 bags of 'not what I wanted...but it'll do' gifts into the car. Everybody falls asleep on the way home. They will all be up until dawn now...but she digs the quiet. She gets home and her Husband wants to see what she bought. She shows him and tries to ignore the "You payed HOW MUCH for this?" comments... and goes to lay down for the night. Her hair is stuck to her face and forehead, and her socks are soaking wet. She's too tired to do anything about it. That evil snow is the bane of her existence. But... all in all... the day was... a success? She tries to get some sleep because tomorrow she gets to meet her Mother in Law at the same mall.... so she can help her pick out the perfect gifts for her children and husband. Gifts that she thought of... and wants to buy for them... but can't afford. :)

I'm not cynical about Christmas at all... Just a realist. :) They tell you it is the "Most wonderful time of the year". They do... they tell you that from the time you are a little girl, and you believe it! It's a shocking realization when you become 'Santa'... and work your tail off to ensure everyone gets to feel  that way. Everyone except for you. :) As a Mom... even in the land of nice people... you WILL almost get run over by some snatch who thinks she's more important than you, and isn't paying attention, whilst on her very important phone call. You will stand in line for hours for a chance to save 6 bucks. You will be soaked in snow, salt and dirt mix. You will bend over backwards, sideways, and possibly forward, to make the season bright for those who matter to you. You will lose your finger prints from Scotch Tape being stuck to them. You will fight with strangers who 'got there first' but clearly don't 'need' that gift as badly as you do. Your tongue will swell from licking 200 envelopes and stamps. You will cry. But it's all worth it when you see their excited faces on Christmas day! That is what it is about now, right? The perfect gifts? :) Bottom line... Hug your Mom a lot more than usual during the Holidays. She deserves it! Ho ho ho!

Here Goes Nothin!

I've beeen meaning to start blogging for the last year or so, but with my crazy life (You know...laundry, long phone conversations, dishes, more laundry etc...) I never really had the time. I couldn't figure out what I wanted to blog about, either. Do I become some weird, inspirational gal...who discusses and quotes people who are...well...inspirational? Do I keep it real, and talk about how everybody bugs me, kids, school (Yawn...) and...poop? Do I talk about how hard it is to be 35 and have wrinkles and gray hairs popping up like nobody's biz? How does one decide on one flavor :) With the last year of my life being so full of blatant dysfunction, stress, heart palpitations, and icky stuff... I figure this may be a good way to vent and maybe get my chuckle on once in a while (I tend to crack myself up...)

With the Holidays fast approaching, I tend to reflect on how the past year has treated me. (Or bitch slapped me over and over again) This one has definitely topped my 'shit list'. I'm bound and determined to ring in the new year with celebration, (And lots of booze) to help ensure next year is a totally different experience. It's really hard when you do not have control over things that happen. I really like control. Like...a lot. I also like babies...so... I'm not sure what that actually means. :) I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions...I can ALWAYS lose 20 pounds, or fail at smoking cessation... But this year is different. I'm going to make so many resolutions that if I fail at any of them...I won't even remember what it was that I should be depressed and kicking my own ass over. My new mantra will be "If at first you don't succeed...Who gives a shit. It probably isn't worth the headache" I will say that out loud... and then I will eat a doughnut and smoke a cig...while I try to remember.  Clearly I'm bound for success. :)