My Holiday Letter

Hello, everyone!!

Typically, I hate holiday letters. I asked our most evolved pet, Frog, to compose our family's holiday letter. He didn't think his brain was complex enough to perform such a task, nor did he give a shit. So I guess I am stuck writing the fucking letter.

My husband and I continue to live our mundane, adult lives. He continues to work at the same place. I continue to be a social worker, pretending to really want to make a difference in the world, but truly being amused by the stupidity of the human race.

Our son contunes to attend preschool. He has a very diverse class with several "brown ones", one whose "daddy was in jail". He had his first experience with organized sports this year. He played soccer this past spring. He seemed to enjoy it as much as his parents did when they were children--bored out of his mind and almost in tears on several occasions.

The beginnin of the year was also the high point! Depressionista, her husband, my husband, our friend D, and myself went on our first vacation to Amsterdam in January of 2006. We discovered our dreamland of decadance, our own little piece of heaven on Earth. Our kids stayed with grandparents, bless their soles. It was the best vacation ever and we are already trying to plan our next one.

In May, my brother got married in my home town, adding one of the few sane women to our family. She makes the holidays much more enjoyable, as she likes to drink to survive them as well. Our son was the ring bearer as well.

In June, my father came to me, and only me, to share that he had hooked up with an old high school flame over the internet for the past several months. Now he was fearful that she was going to contact the rest of his family and tell them. He was scared. As the family social worker, I think he wanted me to fix the situation. This seemed to trigger every one of my own personal issues and began my journey down Therapy Boulevard.

In July, my grandmother decided to pass on the same week that my father and mother were on vacation several hundred miles away. The the eldest grandchild, this left me as the only one to be with her as she pased on. This was actually a truly amazing experience, and one that I am glad that I got to be part of.

Also, in early July, Depressionista and I flew out to Ohio to visit Itchy Tingle for a week. It was an Awesome Girl's Week. We drove to Niagra Falls, did some gambling, saw the Falls. I got to see first hand how similiar Depressionista and Itchy Tingle's personalities are. Luckily, we all still loved eachother at the end of the trip.

After I returned from Ohio, our son had tubes put in his ears and his admoids removed. For several months previous to this, I had just assumed that he was ignoring me when I had to say his name repeatedly louder and louder to get his attention. That was a classic "shitty mom" feeling I had when he failed his hearing test due to having a lot of thick fluid in his ears.

In September, five years after being diagnosed with pancreatitus, I learned that I had gall stones. Gallstones are the #1 cause of pancreatitus. You would think some one in the medical field would have caught on to that one sooner--but perhaps my expectations are too high. I had my gall bladder removed mid-September. I got to spend a week at home on some good pain killers.

Sprinkled through out the year, were some awesome Girl's Nights between Depressionista, Pioneer Woman, Itchy Tingle, Karma Girl and my work spouse. Those nights help me survive in this crazy fucked up world. Thanks guys!

I hope everyone has a fabulous year--and if not, atleast that you can laugh at just how fucked up it all can get at times!!

Blessed be!

Dysfunction Junction

Well....after harassment from the Depressionista and Itchy Tingle, I am getting off of my fat ass (or sitting on it, as the case may be) and writing another post.

Christmas is over. The best moments were last Friday night--A fabulous Girl's Night with Depressionista and Pioneer Girl was held. Tree skirts were presented from Pioneer Girl--which can be seen on Depressionista's blog. Bad movies were watched. Food was eaten. No men or children were involved.

Christmas day. My husband, child and I went to my parents' house for the day. Present were my parents, both of my brothers and their significant others and my looney sister. I don't know that I have ever mentioned my sister in blob world yet. Probably because I am in continual denial that I am actually related to her. I can spend about half an hour with her before I go totally looney myself. I had to spend roughly 4-6 hours with her that day. My diagnosis of her is Borderline Personality Disorder. She spent most of the visit trying to tell my sister-in-law how to take care of her puppy. "does he need to go out?" "is he hungry?" over and over again. This was followed by her miriad of health complaints. Luckily, I didn't hear her say "I am thinking about adopting kids because I can't have them because of all of the medication I am on." Lets see if I can do the list of ailments: severe allergies, fibromylagia (spelling??), digestion issues due to having her gall bladder removed, restless leg syndrome, she wears some sort of retainer all of the time which gives her a constant speech impediment, hand tremors. All of this is besides the mental illness which she doesn't even seem to be aware of. And of course, her husband (yes, she is married) did not come to Christmas because he has his own health issues, which I think boil down to bulimia and mental health shit. The man is constantly throwing up and he weighs maybe ninety pounds soaking wet. My sister also insists on ending her first name with a "y" even though a "y" has no business of being there...I guess she thinks it is cute. I just want to puke myself...right along side her husband.

Luckily, my sister-in-law was there. I love my sister-in-law who I will refer to as "B". I am so happy that a normal, fun loving woman was atleast wed into the family. B turned to me and said "where is that bottle of wine?" We cracked it open and drank the bottle between the both of us. Out of ear shot, B asked me if my crazy sister was always trying to tell me how to parent my child when he was a baby. I told her that "unfortunately, yes she was" and that, on several occasions I turned to her and said "HE IS FINE"--and this got her to shut up. B was happy to know that I had snapped at her.

You know what really bums me out in life? That you have absolutely no choice in who you are related to. It just happens and you can really get the fucking short end of the stick. I have had to create my own "sisters" and I thank the gods for all of you every day, Depressionista, Pioneer Girl, Itchy Tingle, and my work spouse. You guys are awesome.