This is the year I had received my very first camera ever. I was ecstatic. Hell, even the dog was excited!
Have you ever seen a more colorful living room in your life? I’m getting dizzy looking at it!
Happy New Years all.
Mom had a very unique style of her own. Yellow is the colour of Christmas. Said nobody. Ever.
Grandma and grandpa. See the little hand by my gran’s leg. That my cousin Caroline in in full photo bomb mode.
Have a good night all.
Meet the family. I tried to protect you from this, but I figure now is as good a time as any. This is but a small sampling of one side of my clan.
These were happier days when my folks were still married and actually seemed to like one another.
These holiday get together were loud. It was goofy. It was family.
My cousin and I were ga-ga over our older cousin’s boyfriend. Just look at the cow eyes my cuz is giving him.
Here is a pic of me and grandma Jessie. Dad felt a photo op brewing right in the throes of sugar fueled fun.
Have a great evening folks!
Ok so the jig was up the moment I saw “Santa” walk in. I knew it was my uncle Russel.
The little girl sitting on my mom’s lap is his daughter. If you think she looks scared, you would be correct. She did not appreciate the jolly man with the beard at all.
Here’s what the camera did not capture: complete screaming like a banshee meltdown, hands flapping in an attempt to either swat him away or take out an eye.
I, on the other hand, was happy with my drowsy doll, regardless of the bogus Santa situation. Mom did not raise any fools. Take the gift and run like the wind, kid.
Question: why is my dress so short and who is the groovy Beatles wanna be kid in back of me??
Have an awesome Friday, all!
Here is where my love of Christmas decorations all began. Mom and dad would take me to the high end department stores downtown to see the window displays. These are some of my favourite childhood memories. I’m so grateful to dad for always having his camera in tow.
Don’t you just love black and white photos? I think I prefer them to coloured ones. So classic.
Have a great day, all.
I was going to write about the frustrations surrounding my family the day after Christmas, but decided against it. I could go into every detail that got under my skin, but what’s the point? I’ve just resigned myself to the fact that the “normal” family get together I have playing in my head just does not exist when it comes to three of us. Dwelling on it just makes me feel worse. Long story short; this will never change.
So, instead of staying stuck in a miserable state, I decided to focus on happier times. I will be posting old pics of Christmas past.
I remember this like it was yesterday. Dad was an avid photographer. I always had a camera in my face. On this evening I was trying to watch a Christmas special on television and he was desperately trying to get me to look into the camera.
Thanks for the memories, pops.
First order of business, Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you had a wonderful time with family friends.
To be perfectly honest with you, Christmas for me this year was a bit of a let down. In my head, the holidays are such a pleasant time of year. In reality though, my mom does stuff that drives me batshit crazy and adds to my stress. Every. Time. I wish she was a bit more ”normal”.
It all started with an unwelcomed guest and it’s been kind of downhill from there.
For starters, I was supposed to pick my mom up at her place early on the 24th. I had no problem doing so. In order to save time, I labored over my home-made tourtiere (which takes about 2 hours to make) on the evening of the 23rd.
Ring Ring! Mom calls, change of plans, her brother is going to drive her here. They live in the same building. Wonderful! Right? Wrong. PS – it never fails, whenever I have a plan to do something a certain way, she always comes up with an alternate plan, just for shits ‘n giggles.
Instead of taking my time to finish cleaning my apartment and bake sugar cookies for some little ones at church, I ended up playing “find the lost senior citizens” on the island of Montreal.
Once found, I invited my uncle up for a coffee. What am I gonna do? Thanks, get out of here? That would be rude. So, an hour later, he left. He had good intentions, but I had no idea he had no GPS and zero clue how to get here. There is so much construction and detours lately, it’s not surprising he got lost.
So then, I had to prepare my chicken (and it’s a good thing I did, keep reading). Mom has a habit of needing to be EXACTLY where I am trying to cook. Oh, now she’s hungry. Now she’s thirsty. Can she help? Now she will do the dishes. So, that slowed me down some more.
Needless to say, sugar cookies were not baked. I had to text my friend and apologize and gave her a rundown of my morning.
I headed off to church for 4pm, alone, because my family still does not get how important it is to me that they show up. They both act like they are being led to slaughter and then run out of the place like bats out of hell.
During sermons, mom picks at her nails, looks around like she’s lost, makes deep sighing noises, yawns, keeps checking her watch, asks me when it is going to end, etc. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that they did not come. It still hurts though.
I came home after service and as we are sitting in the living room, waiting for the tourtiere and roast chicken to finish cooking, it happened. Angus McKitten casually strolled into the living room with….the mouse. He plopped it in the middle of the room and sat there looking at us as if to say “voila!”
The mouse was injured, but alive and very disoriented. We did not have the heart to kill it, so instead, we put it in a little box with a piece of bread and some fabric to keep it warm. We walked to the park and placed the box, with the top slightly opened on top of a trash can. It seemed like the least cruel thing to do.
When we got back, mom was itching to get dinner on the table. If dinner is not served at 5pm, she starts acting squirrel-y. As per usual, she has to take charge. She just could not wait for me to mash the potatoes, so decided she was going to do it. I had placed my tourtiere on the cutting board to cool off.
Next thing you know, we hear “plop” and my mother screams from the kitchen that she dropped the tourtiere on the floor. How did this happen? Well, she didn’t want to mash the potatoes directly on the counter (what’s the difference?), and decided she was going to move my touriere off of the cutting board. Then she upended the whole fucking thing on the floor. Since it was still very hot, it was a big un-salvageable puddle. Nice.
I can’t tell you how many times she has stolen my thunder in an act of silliness or poor judgement. There are days that I wonder if she is doing it on purpose.
I kept my cool, walked over to look at the damage, and then walked away and sat in the living room. I let the two of them clean it up; I was done. It was a very uncomfortable dinner. Thank God I defrosted a chicken. We tried to make light of the situation by cracking jokes, but she was getting mad at us. Go figure.
The next day was just mom and me. Towards the end of the day she started doing what she usually does; knit-pick and “make suggestions” on how I should do everything. I was getting fed up and at one point she says to me “Oh, nothing I do is every right by you”.
Pardon my French, but are you fucking kidding me right now?!? Normally I would let that slide, but enough’s enough. I reminded her that I think I’ve been pretty patient this weekend, all things considered, and that comments like that were not welcomed.
Honestly, I don’t know why we continue this frustrating charade year after year. When I go to her house, she acts normal. When she comes here, she does this type of stupid shit.
This morning was a real doozie, but stay tuned. I will post more tomorrow. There is only so much I can write as re-telling this has exhausted me.
So, as much as I hate to admit it, my Christmas really sucked this year.
Hope yours was better!
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