My Christmas Confession

On Christmas day, we had a great morning. We opened gifts and our Babe had a blast, we had a yummy breakfast, we helped Baboo play with his new gifts, listened to Christmas music and watched Christmas movies. And then we packed up and got in the car to drive to our big extended family dinner. We were, of course, the first ones there. We arrived ten minutes late, but all the guests hadn't arrived until a two full hours after that. That's how my family rolls.

When my parents and sister finally arrived, I knew right away what had happened. Their expressions were drawn, their eyes were red, and their greetings strained. I had been a part of this scene for years before, so I knew. A talk with my mom later on in the evening confirmed it. There had been a huge fight that day, just as there usually was on special occasions. My family is pretty much incapable of just having a nice holiday. I don't know whether it's the fact that everything is supposed to be perfect on Christmas, so emotions are running high and everything gets blown out of proportion, but I have been a part of many ruined Christmases, birthdays, and Thanksgivings.

On my 16th birthday we were in Florida, and the night before my birthday I was watching a movie over at the condo of a friend I'd made at the resort. My father came over and yelled at me and forced me to leave in the middle of the movie, for absolutely no reason other than that he wanted me to come back. The next day I was so upset that my mother basically had to beg me to come to Disney World with them. I didn't feel like going anywhere with them, I just wanted to stay at the resort by myself.

Two Christmases ago, my father and my sister got into an argument on Christmas Eve, which resulted in him taking her $400 cell phone and smashing it to pieces. On boxing day, he took her out to buy her another, and then tried to convince her to get a cheaper one. He said, and I quote "The problem is that you got a cell phone that's too expensive." No, the problem is that you throw tantrums and vandalize others' property like a child, and then don't want to make up for it.

I have a lot of other stories like these ones, but I'll spare you. I found a quiet room to talk to my mom on Christmas, and she told me that he had screamed at my sister the entire. way. there. That morning when she'd given them their gifts (they didn't have any to give her, so desperate is their financial situation) he'd opened the mug, and then said "You think I want your stupid mug?" Yes, people. This is my father. And no, he wasn't drinking, this is actually just his personality. He then proceeded to yell at her the entire car ride to Christmas dinner. About what a crappy daughter she was. About how she does nothing for my mother. About how heartless of her it was to take off to Mexico over Christmas break instead of coming home and spending time with my mom, who just got out of the hospital (again). My mom said she just kept asking him to stop, over and over, but that he just refused. My mom isn't happy with my sister either, but she is wise enough to know that screaming at someone and ruining their Christmas (again) isn't the way to get them to come around more.

My confession is this. When they walked in the door, and I immediately realized what had happened, I was relieved. Relieved that I'd had a perfect Christmas morning with my little family. Relieved that I hadn't been there. Relieved that never again, would every holiday have to be ruined. I have my own family now. We have our own traditions. We have our own way of doing things, we are functional, and I don't have to be a part of that mess any more. My options for the holidays are no longer spend them with my dysfunctional parents or be alone. I am saved. I can breathe. And I'm relieved.

I feel guilty. Like I was in a war, and went AWOL, and left other men behind. But my relief and joy completely overpower that guilt. It is, after all, not my fault. I didn't create those conditions. I just survived them. And now I'm finally free to move on and create a new life for myself, and I have. So when I get down about our life not being perfect, about all the things that we don't have or can't afford, or about how difficult it is raising a spirited child with zero family support, I will go back to that moment at Christmas. The moment when I realized that I was free. And I will be thankful.

I'm reminded the words from a song by Nikka Costa, that I used to listen to all the time when I was in high school, dreaming of the day when I would be free.

Just like the earth has spent a thousand years making up for what we do. . .
Just like the heart that's spent a lifetime forgiving what is cruel. . .
Just like the sea has spent a thousand years at the mercy of the moon. . .
So have I for you.

You can choose the rain, but I choose the sun.
That's all I need to free myself.

(So have I for you, by Nikka Costa. Check it out. You'll be inspired).

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My Slacker Thanksgiving

Last year I wrote about my simple Canuck Thanksgiving Dinner, and how I hoped that next year I'd be able to go all out, since my baby would be older and require less attention. Now I just laugh at myself. Having a baby is a piece of cake compared to having a very active, very vocal 15 month old. Maybe next year I'll have the opportunity to make a turkey, but I now know enough not to bet on it. Regardless of how badly I slacked, and how the entire meal took maybe two hours to prepare, it was still highly satisfying. I think I've crossed over to the slacker dark side to stay.

My Slacker Menu:

(Instead of Turkey) Peppercorn Lime Chicken Breast:
-Boneless, skinless chicken breast, marinated in lime juice, basil, and cracked black pepper. Grilled on stove top for 20 minutes, topped with salsa. Easy and yummy.

Pillsbury Crescent Rolls:
It was extremely difficult figuring out how to open that cardboard tube and roll the pre-made dough, but I perservered.

Loaded Baked Potatoes:
The hardest part was putting the potatoes into the oven.

Ceasar Salad:
Lettuce (prewashed), croutons, bacon bits and mozzarella. Combine in bowl. Very challenging stuff.

Corn on the Cob:
Dump shucked corn in boiling water. Take out 20 minutes later. Slather with butter.

World's Easiest Pumpkin Muffins:
Combine one box of yellow cake mix and one can of pumpkin pie filling. Stir. Empty into muffin tins. Remove from oven 25 minutes later. Frost with Betty Crocker's Cream Cheese frosting (because why mess with perfection?). And they're Weight Watchers approved, to boot!

To drink we had the delicious sparkling cider that we bought at the Pumpkin Farm. The ambiance was set with a playlist of soothing music and pumpkin pie scented tealights. After dinner we took a nice, long walk through the nature conservation. It was a beautiful day.

The most beautiful thing about today for me, though, is the fact that I was bummed out about this Thanksgiving. Usually my extended family gets together at the holidays and its loud and festive and fun, but this year, with the economic hardships so many of us have been experiencing, as well as various health and personal problems throuhout the family tree, no one was up to hosting. At first I was fairly annoyed, stating that I'd host if we had a big enough place.

But then I thought, is more always merrier? Or is less sometimes more, even when it comes to family? I am definitely looking forward to Christmas, as I am assured that my aunt will be hosting and showing off her newest grandchild. But I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, just me and my little family. We made our own traditions and memories, complete with slacking, and it was relaxing and wonderful. No long drives to someone's home hours away. No waiting two hours past T-time (T is for turkey ;) ) for the last straggler to finally show up, while the rest of us starve and get increasingly grumbly. No squashing 60+ relatives into one home, balancing plates on our laps because there's no one with a table big enough to seat all of us. No chasing my toddler around an un-baby proofed house and trying to keep him from destroying someone else's things.

 Just me and my guys. Eating a relaxing dinner. Going for a nice, long walk. Kicking a soccer ball around outside (because my 15 month old is already obsessed). It was a great Thanksgiving. And I am Thankful.

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Thoughts and Prayers Needed for My Mom

For those of you who know the back story of my mom and her relationship with my father, things are not good. He had moved back in for awhile because he couldn't afford rent where he was staying anymore, but they were staying in separate bedrooms and he was supposed to be moving back out once he started his new job this month and saved up some extra cash. Well, apparently my mom is starting to cave and I found that really weird because she was so determined to not be with him anymore. The reason she is starting to cave, though, is because the stress of everything is really starting to wear her down. She has been getting gradually sicker and sicker over the past few weeks. She isn't eating, she isn't sleeping, her body really hurts (she has fibromialgia, so that contributes to it) and she doesn't have the strength to fight my father anymore. She says she needs him to help her because she's so exhausted. He's been cooking for her and getting her medicine and helping her up and down the stairs, etc.




Another concern I have is that my mother was hospitalized in the psychiatric ward in August because things got so stressful for her that she had a complete psychotic break with reality. She was in a really bad car accident years ago (that's how she got fibromialgia), and in July was supposed to be the settlement hearing. Well, they went to the hearing and neither the insurance company nor the cement truck company (she was T-boned by a cement truck) wanted to settle, so after four years of suffering she found out she had to go to trial. And then they were moving, had sold their house and were counting on the settlement money to pay for their new house because my father had worked for GM and been laid off when the economy crashed, so they had that financial strain .



Plus their relationship had really deteriorated. She watched her husband verbally abuse and scream at me while I was pregnant, vandalize my sister's property when she was "disrespectful" to him, and treat my mother like dirt, refusing to help her around the house though she was disabled and constantly making her feel bad about herself for gaining weight and not being the perfect housewife.



So one night, when my son was a month old, my sister called me in the middle of the night to tell me that "something was wrong" with my mom. She was crying and obviously very scared. I found out later that she was admitted to the hospital under the lable of "psychosis" because all the stress had just been too much for her.



I went to visit her and it was horrible. She kept reliving the accident over and over and trying to convince me that she really was injured and really couldn't work. She refused to eat while I was there so they made me leave, and when I was leaving she tried to follow me out and they had to pull her away from me.



I don't think I will ever forget hearing her yell my name down the hall of the Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit. They thought it would be weeks, if not months, until she was better and able to come home, but everyone in my family and our church prayed for her, and within 3 or 4 days she was totally back to her old self.



Well, the past few weeks things have started to deteriorate for her again, and I am afraid that she is headed back to the hospital if she doesn't get her stress under control and start sleeping and eating again. I am terrified of what will happen if she doesn't. I called her this morning and she sounded really out of it. So if you're the praying type, please pray for my mom.

I mean, it's my mom.

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Best. Christmas. Ever.

My baby's first Christmas ever was also my best Christmas ever, for the following reasons:

1) For the first year in as long as I can remember, there was absolutely NO FIGHTING among our extended family members (my parents or sister). I think its because my father usually causes the problems, but he was on his best behaviour since my Mom has told him that she is through with him as soon as she can afford an attorney. He is trying desperately to win her back. It's really very sad (read: pathetic, not tragic). But it resulted in a very peaceful and amicable Christmas for us all. We celebrated with them on Christmas Eve so we could reserve Christmas morning and most of Christmas day for our little family of three.

2) The Hubb's parents phoned, and we actually had a friendly, casual warm conversation. I have not spoken to them in almost 2 years, and we just recently got into contact again after Baboo was born. It feels like things are getting back on the right track, and I am thankful. I just want peace, I want everyone to get along. The Hubbs also got to speak to all of his siblings for the first time since we left, and that was awesome for him. I am happy for him.

3) I got a D-SLR! A Canon 30d, to be exact! I am so stoked! D-SLRS are way out of our price range, but The Hubbs managed to find one on Ebay (he said he searched Ebay every day for a month). I'm just thrilled to finally be able to take high quality photos of my son. It is so frustrating to have a camera that you've outgrown (we had a FujiFilm prosumer point&shoot). I can't wait to learn all about it and finally be able to capture our memories in the quality in which they deserved to be captured.

4) Finally, every time I looked at our little one, my heart swelled with joy. It is simply amazing to be a mother at the holidays. It adds a whole new element to everything.  I cannot even express in words the joy that I have felt during our first family Christmas together. I have considered the Hubbs and I to be a family since before we were even engaged, but having a son does add something else to the family of two that we already were. For one thing, we are now related by blood. Our son has half The Hubbs' DNA and half mine. But I also think that its just wonderful that we are united through a common bond like never before. It's not my interests and his interests that we're trying to reconcile anymore when we make decisions. We are both driven by what's best for our little guy. He is the one thing that we both love equally, with 100% of our hearts and souls. He really is the best gift ever.

Though don't worry, I won't leave you hanging--there'll be a blog post in the near future about all the material things that were exchanged this Christmas, complete with rating system. And maybe after that there'll be a post-Christmas sales list of bargains, though we usually save our "boxing day" shopping for mid-January. The sales are even better then.

Stay tuned!

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Things are Looking Up!

So we went to church today, for the first time in our Sweet Baboo's entire life. Kinda sad for people who profess to love Jesus. A few weeks ago we actually went to church, but since we moved we're going to a different one than we're used to. My mom told us it started at 11, so we showed up promptly at 11:05, only to discover that it really started at 10 and service was half over. We were too embarassed to go in so late, so we sat out in the lobby and drank coffee while our baby slept.

Two weeks after that we were determined to go again, but our car was in the shop. My mom said she'd come pick us up, but her car had absolutely zero gas. She needed someone to take her to the gas station to fill up the canister and bring it back to the house so she could fill up the car. There was no one who could do it on such short notice, so we didn't go.

But the third time was a charm, and we actually managed it today! We were 15 minutes late, unfortunately, but I'm learning that such in life with a baby. It took me forever to get dressed because Baboo was fussy and wouldn't let me put him down. Then when I finally got dressed and was ready to go, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized that my boobs have become WAY too big for the shirt I was wearing (breastfeeding will do that to you). So I had to scramble around and find something else to wear. Meanwhile, Baboo spat up all over The Hubbs and I tried to find him something else to wear, but the man has shockingly few decent pieces of clothing, so I wound up just wiping him down with a wet wipe. Baboo was fussing in the backrgound the entire time, then needed to eat right when we wanted to go, and the kid has grown AGAIN so we had to adjust the straps of his car seat to handle his newfound height. Whew!

We finally, finally got out of the house (with uncombed hair and breakfastless stomachs) and made it into the service while the songs were still being sung. I have to say it was a very productive visit. Not because I got very much out of the message (I didn't), but because of the following:

1) We ran into my father. This is ordinarily not a good thing, but he's been complaining about how he never sees our Sweet Baboo anymore, so now he's seen him and we don't have to make it happen on our own time.
2) I ran into another new mom, her baby is 2 months old and we worked in the church nursery together before Baboo was born. We exchanged numbers and she is going to hook me up with her playgroups so I don't have to be lonely and sad. Yippee!
3) I also ran into an old, old, old friend of mine--I'm talking my best friend from kindergarten. We exchanged numbers and will hopefully be keeping in touch. It's always great to touch base with the past. I couldn't believe he recognized me after all these years!
4)We booked Baboo's Christening--holla! It's going to be next Sunday, which I know is a crazy short amount of time away. We're having it at my mom's house and we chose that date because the holidays are approaching and it's always impossible to get my whole extended family together for extra events this time of year, well next Sunday is Canadian Thanksgiving so they'll all be at my mom's place anyway--holy run-on sentence, batman!

Now I just need to find my sweet Baboo a Christening outfit, and put together some verses I want read. Pick out a cake, buy some white balloons, put together a short slideshow/video and find a keepsake for him to commemorate this event. Later on he'll be blessed in front of the church (they usually do the infant blessings 3 or 4 at a time), which will be nice. He'll be able to wear the same outfit and we'll get some church pictures.

All in all, things are looking up.
I'm gonna go join the Hubbs in bed (I have bedroom stories to tell in my next post--stay tuned!)

"Church is a scream."

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