Photo Credit: barabasa / 123RF Stock Photo
The holidays are a joyful time to celebrate loved ones and family traditions. To give thanks for all of our blessings and good fortune, right? Sure. But it’s also a time of family bickering, passive-aggressive comments, colossal fuck-ups, social faux pas, and domestic disasters.
My husband and I have hosted holiday dinners for the past sixteen years, and we’ve experienced all of these things firsthand. To stay sane during these annual “celebrations,” we have developed our own coping strategy. We call it the Dysfunctional Family Drinking Game. It is a secret game that only the two of us play, and it is designed to make us laugh at the foibles and follies during Thanksgiving and any holiday gathering. Wanna know how to play?
I’ve got something happening on my face. Something bad. Like red, bumpy, meth-face bad.
It all started a few months ago. At first I thought the ailment was acne. Because Mother Nature is an asshole and continues to punish me with pimples even though I’ve moved to the wrinkle-and-whisker phase of life. I tried covering the infestation with makeup. Only then I had a cake-y, beige-y, hot mess going on.
Memories of my own junior high dances are obscured in a haze of Drakar Noir, Aqua Net hairspray, and raging (and foul-smelling) tweenage hormones. Sadly, I don’t have any pictures from these dances to jog my memory either, but I do have my 7th grade school picture.
Okay, I don’t actually have a joke. I’m just awkwardly introducing a different kind of post. See, depression and anxiety have walked back into my life, and they don’t seem to want to leave. Like intrusive houseguests who have overstayed their welcome, they are invading my space and turning me into someone I don’t recognize. (Somebody smells bad in this particular analogy, and I’m pretty sure it’s me.)
You’ve been enjoying the sweet spot of parenting since your children outgrew the pre-schooler phase, but now you’re wallowing in the Tween Trenches. Well, I’ve got good news for you about your tweenager… and some bad news.
But, dammit, if you put a fish head on my plate, I’m going to play with it. I can’t just eat around it like a civilized person and leave it alone. In true Foxy fashion, I’m going to turn it into dinner and a show.
September 6-12 is National Suicide Prevention Week. I lost my brother to suicide three years ago, and I live with chronic depression and anxiety myself. So this week is important to me to say the least.
Talking about mental illness and suicide is also very important to me. I share my experiences because I want to help people. Because I want people who are struggling to know that they are not alone. Because I want people to come to a deeper understanding of mental illness.
Those people also include my children. I wrote an essay for Scary Mommy addressing why and how I talk to my kids about depression and suicide. Please read and/or share if you are so inclined.
Parenting experts want to lecture you on breastfeeding, sleep training, discipline, and all sorts of child-rearing topics. Their unending spew of “helpful” advice can drown you if you’re not careful. Unfortunately they have left several key parenting topics out of their
books of lies manuals. Perhaps because the topics are too difficult to tackle. Perhaps the folks are not the experts they claim to be. Perhaps they are just too scared.
Well, I for one am not afraid to discuss the tough stuff. The scary stuff. Like how to be a good Tooth Fairy (or any other mythical creature). I know I was a monumentally crappy tooth fairy, but in hindsight, I have some honest-to-goodness, save-your-tooth-swapping-ass tips that you’ll never find in Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care book.
Get ready to lower your standards and achieve greatness.
My Dearest Husband,
Welcome home! I hope you had a wonderful day at work. I know, I know, I look like hell (again) this evening. Honest to goodness, I had every intention of showering today and making myself more presentable, but it just didn’t happen.
There are endless reasons why I didn’t shower today, but here are the first dozen off the top of my head…
A ridiculous amount of coffee and booze is consumed in the process of writing these stories. Add some fuel if you'd like to keep me going!