So, this is Christmas…

26 12 2008

Ok, before anyone reads this post and feels inclined to be all helpful by reminding me that things could always be worse, let me say this: Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. I am well aware that in the grand scheme of things, I am profoundly fortunate, and yes, things could always be much, much worse. But being reminded of that does nothing to comfort me. In fact, it only adds a thick, grimy layer of guilt to my already unshowered conscience, and makes me worry even more obsessively about life going from bad to worse in a heartbeat. And besides, it’s my blog and I’ll bitch if I want to.

As I’m sure you are aware, the Blister family has been enduring a particularly long December. A month that kicked off with a birthday (Squiggles), a root canal (my front tooth, affectionately dubbed “Ol’ Chomper”), and a bout of the barfies (Neener) is on track to end on a very similar note. Another birthday (Mr.), more dental interventions on Ol’ Chomper ( thanks to the mysterious lump ballooning from my gum, unaffectionately dubbed “Lumpy”) and more barfies (Mr., the lone non-barfer up until now, is turning green and bolting to the can as I write this.) In between those delightful little bookends, we’ve been ducking and weaving as best we can, as the big bully that is Life gives us wedgies and stuffs us in lockers. (Mental note: ducking and weaving is a highly ineffective strategy for avoiding wedgies, and does not get you out of a locker very quickly, if at all.) In the last week alone, we’ve found ourselves uttering phrases like,  “Anyone know why there is milk pouring out of the remote control?” and “Open the fridge door veeeery slowly so the condiments shelf  doesn’t crack  in half and send hot pepper and relish jars crashing on your toes. Again.” And, ” Should we take Roo’s barf sample to the ER just in case they want to see it?” (Mental note: they don’t.)

And then there was Christmas. The general stress of snow storms, house guests, postal negligence, last minute shopping, family festivities, and cramming four hundred dollars worth of food and a giant turkey carcass into a broken refrigerator normally does not get to me. But this year brought some bonus nerve-wrackers. There was my multiple forced forays into retail hell on Christmas Eve, thanks to the aforementioned barfies bonanza that spoiled my previous shopping plans, and some asshole ebay seller’s postal negligence. Then, there was the always-joyous occasion of trying to contain my sooky, sensory-overloaded kids in a strange place full of people we did not know, at our first ever extended-family Christmas Eve party. And then there was Christmas morning, when, in all the hoopla, “Santa” forgot to put anything in my stocking. Except for an apology note promising two stockings next year. When the plethora of presents under the tree revealed that my campaign for a more meaningful Christmas with less stuff was, more or less, a flop. When my mother, brother and father spent the entire day jostling for a turn in our one bathroom as they too succumbed to the infamous Blister Family Christmas Barf Fest. And did I mention that, thanks to Lumpy, I’m on some super strong antibiotics and can’t even stomach my seasonal survival staples, the holy holiday trinity of coffee, spicy food, and wine. Three words come to mind when I try to sum up the last few days around here: Worst. Christmas. Ever.

Except it’s not. Granted, it is worse than last year. Even though this time last year I had a brand-new, unphotogenic, infant acne crusted baby Squiggles, feet the size of Buicks, and four stitches in my hoo-ha. And it’s also worse than my terrible teenage Christmas, when my gifts consisted of a shiny puffy coat that made me look like a bronze zeppelin, a floppy collared shirt that looked like a rainbow barfed on it, and a sweater emblazoned with a little girl mouse gathering berries. But, even with all its barfing and bitching and boozelessness, Christmas 2008 is no match for the Surprise! Christmas Eve Face Cancer Announcement! of 2003. Or Christmas 1999, which can only be described as The Year The Shit Really Hit The Fan. Yes, this Christmas could have been better. But it also could have been much, much worse. Which is not something I need to be reminded of, so much as it is something I can’t really afford to forget in the first place. Here’s to a happy, healthy 2009!

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11 responses

26 12 2008
nanny

True ,Christmas day was a bummer (and I do mean bummer, like bread poultice for your arse bummer), but the kids were great on christmas morning. and dinner smelled great. We should try it all again next year ,but maybe we could do it here! I hate having the barfies in somebody else’s house. Better luck next year!

26 12 2008
trish

Boy, your christmas did suck, but wait a few years, the joy and happiness of a sixteen year old who was awoken to early, and a 12 year old who had everything unwrapped by 9:30, and a husband who kept saying ” I don’t remember seeing that before it was wrapped”, will amaze you, the barfies would have been a welcome distraction here from the anger, frustration, and overall lack of love in our house. Oh well like nanny said, there is always next year, we can count on it.
miss you
Trish

26 12 2008
domesticblister

Oh, in a few years, I will have the joy and happiness of TWO sixteen year olds and a twelve year old. Rainbow barf floppy collared shirts and berry-picking mice sweaters for everyone! How ’bout I send them to your place for Christmas that year, Nanny?

27 12 2008
nanny

You can send them any time ,any year, any way. The berry picking mice sweaters and rainbow barf floppy collared shirts will be given with every ounce of love in my rather corpulent frame just as they were before!

27 12 2008
domesticblister

I actually think the rainbow barf shirt might still be in my closet. The berry picking mouse sweater was from Neil F. and Adrienne

27 12 2008
Jody

What does it not surprise me that Neil F anf Adreinne gave you that sweater!

28 12 2008
Leanne

I’m laughing at your messy Christmas. How bad is that? I’m hoping that your new year goes better. Oh, and never apoligize for venting on your blog, that’s why we have them. 🙂

29 12 2008
roxferry

Okay all I can say is “What stadistic witch did you or Mr.Blister piss off?”She must have been very good to send all the hell of christmas past and present to you! If I was you(thankfully I am not) I would find some tarro card reading mystic to pull some hibbity jibbity on your family.I would even wear a bit of garlic for extra measure(just in case the vampires are pissed too).All I can say is it is almost a new year so you really should get on these measures fast. Maybe New Years can have a day of fun and Joy instead of bathroom running and emergency room phone calls.Take care Blister’s and good luck!!

30 12 2008
Lisa

Merry HoHo, DomBliss family.

15 01 2009
Denise

Absolutely LOVE your Blog! I just tapped into it yesterday. Superb writing as always . . . Hope to see you someday at the writer’s group.

21 02 2009
Loose Ends « Domestic Blister

[…] and turning in your beds at night, wondering if Operation Beefcake was a success. And what about Ol’ Chomper and Lumpy? Are they still peacefully co-habitating in my mouth? Did Neener chop anybody’s arms off yet? […]

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