Monday, December 11, 2006

Come for the funny, stay for the crazy

There are no words to describe how touched I was by your supportive words and introspective comments (especially the long ones that you wrote) on my last post. And yet I'm going to ramble on anyway, as is my perogative because this is my blog.

(Cue the Bobby Brown music.*)

I know it's the holiday season and what you don't need as fellow mothers, parents, bloggers, and stressed-out adults during this season of busy malls and tight budgets is another reminder of how tough your job is and how gloomy life can be at times, so that is why I thank you for hanging in there with me. The holidays bring us such joy and happiness, but let's face it they'll also drop an anvil on your head when you're not looking. Although, the anvil will probably be wrapped in pretty ribbons and bows. Gotta keep our depression festive, know what I mean?

If you've lost an important loved one to death or distance the highs and lows are even more pronounced this time of year. You want to remember the happy times by telling tales and stories of that special person, but it is impossible to reminisce without remembering that the person you're sharing stories about is no longer with you. So you go on - and when I say "you" I mean me - ignoring the elephant in the room, not wanting to inject sadness into this already difficult season, until the weight you (um, I) carry is too tough to bear. And that's when you (I!) end up with a crazy headache after being struck in the ol' noggin.

Where the hell is my Advil?

I had hoped to rid myself of some of that heft and pain with that last post but I am afraid I may have taken my finger out of the proverbial dam, so you may be showered with introspection and tears if you come to close. If you dig that kind of stuff I welcome you to my pity party with open arms. If you plan on staying I ask that you keep an open mind and that you bring some spirit to this party. And by "spirit" I mean alcohol. Large quantities of alcohol. Because nothing helps a crying jag more than getting snackered on red wine and margaritas.

So, to reiterate...

...'Mrs. C, what did you do to this filet of horse to make it so tender?' 'It's an old family secret, you beat it with a stick until it's good and dead.'...

Please take your posts about your children and print them out. Put those pages in their baby books or another special place and save them for when they're old enough to appreciate your words. Write what you can in their baby books, fill in the correct spaces and such, but also leave them something more tangible than dates and growth charts for when they become parents and they need to hear that you were a crazed howler monkey (because they were crazed howler monkeys) during their first few years of life. Because when they're parents, and dog willing you're still there for them, you'll be sticking your righteous nose in to situations that will piss them off. They need to know that you screwed up a bunch of times, too.

[getting off my soap box]

Now then, just because this place will be littered with wadded up Kleenex and chick flick DVDs ("Beaches" is on the docket for today, tomorrow it will be "Steel Magnolias") doesn't mean there won't be funny moments. What's more fun than laughing through our tears, right? I fully intend on keeping up appearances and pretending like there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I've been doing that for most of my life, so why stop now?

(Remind me to tell you about that time when I fell down a flight of basement steps, cracked the back of my head open on a stone wall and had to be taken by ambulance to the hospital on a backboard but all the while kept cracking jokes. Huh, I guess I just did. I guess I got carried away. Get it? "Carried away"? Backboard? Heh. Is this thing on?)

If you want something uplifting right now (I get the instant gratification thing, I have a toddler) then go check out Her Bad Auction. Go see what a bunch of women can do to make sweet, sweet lemonade out of the sour lemons that life insists on handing them. The auction is in honor of Her Bad Mother's nephew Tanner, who has Muscular Dystrophy, and proceeds will go to Muscular Dystrophy Research. The bidding on 30 amazing products and services (to date) begins on Wednesday, December 13.

So what the heck are you still doing here? Dry your eyes, little ones, and go spread some holiday cheer dammit.


*Nothing makes me happier than a high-top fade. Enjoy.



26 comments:

radioactive girl said...

I have always been a "memory" person, but right after my cancer was diagnosed I becamse totally obsessive about writing love notes in the journals I keep for each of my kids. I hate to be morbid, but someday I will die, whether from cancer or not, and I want them to know who I was, and who I was with them. Hopefully they will appreciate it someday, but even if they don't, I will know that I did it for them.

lildb said...

I brought red-itas. (pinot mixed with triple sec - takes a little getting used to, but oh, you will. and you will *love* it.)

*ching*

p.s. these hankies are extra-strength. ain't that grand?

p.p.s. I do love a good fade.

p.p.p.s. hugs. big ones.

Kate said...

Yum...red wine...can't stop...thinking...about the red wine.... OK back to work.

Jess Riley said...

Say, I want one of Lildb's red-itas!

I get really sentimental during the holidays (though you can't tell from my blog at the moment). I may get it from my grandma, who still signs her cards "Love Grandma and :)" even though my grandpa died ten years ago this week. (He was a really decent and wonderful guy.)

I have to say that I think you're the best, Mrs. Chicky. You go on and write whatever your good soul wants to, and we'll read it and laugh or cry along with you.

("dog willing"...heeee!)

Blog Antagonist said...

Oh goodness, my dear...I think you would have to have a heart of stone not to be missing your mom like hell during this time of year. Wallow all you want. We'll be here for you. May I suggest that you add Steel Magnolias to your viewing line-up? I'll tip a nice buttery Chardonnay with you and sniffle right along with you. I do love a five hankie flick.

I am saving all my blog posts for my kids, good, bad and indifferent. Someday, they will want to know who I really was. Not the Mom, but the person.

Kristi said...

I hope your holidays are wonderful this year. And things get better as the days pass.

In the meantime...

"Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me. Why don't they just let me live?"

Classic.

Joker The Lurcher said...

hey - that's what this time of year (and indeed all other times when we get off the roundabout for a couple of days) is about. thinking of people who matter. alive and dead. and lost to us in other ways. keep up the brilliant writing. i have told more about myself in replies to posts like yours than over years of speaking to people i know!

Christina said...

Go right ahead and fill your blog with memories of your mom for the holidays. I'd be honored to get to know her a little more through your words. The holidays are a time for family, both living and gone. It only makes sense to think about her at this time of year.

And yeah, my kids will have full access to my blog someday. I want them to know more about who I am now, and how much I love them (and think they're pains in the ass, of course!).

jen said...

i've got some leftover champagne...it's yours for the taking...

and you are so right about doing what we need to now to perserve us for them later. am working on that.

oh, god, am i trying, anyways.

Bridgermama said...

The Holidays can be so tough...hence why I have decided to once again re-enter the blogging world (hopefully, for good this time). Anywho I must go and create some amazing memories for the beloved B. Hang in...

PunditMom said...

CCM, I am with you on this journey (especially since it involves wine!). In addition to your suggestions, I am going to start a separate book for R. that covers as much info as I can gather about her first year ... the year that we were not yet her parents and she was waiting for us in China. I know it will not replace the things that most first-year baby books have, but it's the best I can do for her. Thanks so much for sparking this in me.

julia said...

What a great idea, printing out blog entries. Or cause for future therapy, one or the other. :D



I hate how the holidays bring losses into sharp relief. It tinges everything with a blue wash.

lildb needs to budge over and pass out the red-itas for everyone.

ewe are here said...

Holidays are funny. They're supposed to remind of us all we have to be thankful for, but often they remind us of what we have lost. Especially those closest to us. At least it feels that way to me sometimes.

I miss my dad a lot around the holidays. And when I watch my boy sleep. He would have loved him so.

Hugs.

Lara said...

i do miss my dad an awful lot, still, after seven and a half years. especially around holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. i lament the missed moments of sharing my accomplishments with him, 'cause i think maybe he'd be proud of me. i'm fortunate to still have my mom around, because i can ask her things about him - "would he have approved of so-and-so?" "would he have been excited that i did such-and-such?" "how would he feel about X?" but even with that, there are times it fails. he called me boomers. my whole life, that was his special name, just for me, and no one else ever used it. boomers. i have no idea why, and neither does my mother. my dad called me boomers for sixteen years, and i'll never know why.

sometimes, for me, those little moments of realization are actually harder for me than the major holidays. but maybe that's just me.

i'm sending you some virtual tequila. if you send me your address, i'll even send you real tequila. seriously.

K said...

I think there are a few places that will actually print your blog content as a book - lulu.com maybe? I have to check.

I love these posts reminding us about the true meaning of the holidays -- TIME...

Thanks Mrs. Chicky.

Dana said...

The holidays seem to be so important and so stressful and then BAM, they're gone. I really need to take my time and enjoy the people and stop worring that my present-giving isn't going to be liked.

Thanks for the good reminder.

Mamacita Tina said...

My mom has made me print out my little blog stories. I've been copying the text and pictures into Word, just takes more time.

Ian loves to go the post office, so we will be mailing Tanner a letter and picture. The women putting the auction together are amazing!

Waya said...

I'll bring the spirits to you Mrs. C but you're going to have to enjoy it all by yourself, I won't be able to for another year or so!!

T. said...

I'm with you, Mrs. C.

And as a mom who's missing her Bug, I'm so glad that I kept those diaries of mine when I was pregnant with him, along with his baby book, and casts, and any other little knickknack. I kept all of these in the hopes of oneday passing them on to him and his wife, but now they are one of the fragile links I have to prove he actually existed.

He wasn't a figment of my imagination.

Here's to all the folks who are missing someone they love at Christmas. I'm raising my glass to you.

Lawyer Mama said...

I will. I will print out my blog. You've already inspired me to finish up the baby books and I actually started on some stuff for the kiddos last weekend. Thank you for sharing your mom with us.

Kristin said...

Oh, Mrs. Chicky how I love you so... I save my blog entries because I suck and have never really kept baby books... thes posts will someday be a reminder of this brief time in my life (and that I am the Queen of the run-on sentance...)


Do you have Terms of Endearment on your list? Because that is a really tear jerker... like for days.

creative-type dad said...

I'm a little frightened about printing my posts...for her or anybody. My daughter doesn't need anymore fuel for her therapist.
Well, maybe one or two.

BTW- I think Bobby B. still does that same strut.

Heather said...

Laughter through tears is good medicine. Like the cemetery scene in Steel Magnolias. Gosh, I love that movie! Can I come over and watch with you?

scribbit said...

We had a death in the family over Christmas six years ago and it's never felt the same since. I appreciate your candor and sincerity in posting about those feelings though. Those of us not brave enough to do it appreciate it and it eases sadness to know someone else understands.

Kristen said...

Big hugs. I haven't been able to comment because blogger sucks. anyway- fades do rule- especially when you need a laugh!

ECR said...

I went so far to use my post about The Boss's first steps inside the holiday card we sent out. Despite the fact that some people have no appreciation for any message longer than 15 words, I think little things like that serve to help get the memories out there in a way that will be harder to lose. Thanks for the reminder about the importance of our words.