Merry Christmas

I hope you all are having a decent holiday time. I’ve long had gripes with this time of year. Pressure of spending money, family tensions, the usual. But last year was the worst Christmas of my life. Well, maybe neck and neck with the Christmas where my high school boyfriend broke up with me.

I won’t go over it again, but I’ve been bracing to be mildly depressed this season as well. I can happily report except for one day –2/3 of the day– where I ran over to my mom’s so I could nap and have a pity party, I have avoided the big Christmas blues (knock on wood).

All that happy, happy, joy, joy can feel like such a burden when your heart is breaking. I hope everyone who has their own challenges and struggles can enjoy themselves at least a little this year. Get a charge out of the kids’ joy is my favorite way to do that. I’m so lucky to have my kids. They have natural excitement. And we are excited about about the my husband’s new place opening up, The Tar Pit. Fingers crossed.

Thanks so much to all of you who come to Cool Mom and especially those who wrote kind things to support me and my family in our dark and hopeful times. I’ve gone a on journey with you all. I really appreciate the caring. Without knowing most of you, I feel a connection, and I can only hope that your families are safe and sound and prosperity is under the tree for everyone.

Happy Holidays.

Love, Daphne

Holiday Lights

There are so many things to examine at this time. Fruit cake is a comedy go to. Everyone has aspects of the holidays they like and others that set their teeth on edge. After we have all been through this routine so many times, is there anything left to enjoy?

Note: the camera I try to use use for most of my vids showed up with missing parts, so I had to use a more basic one with no detached mic. Thus the hissing quality in this video (and probably some more the next few weeks)

Trick or Treat

Not that long ago Halloween meant two things to me. Either stay at home and watch TV while I gave out a little candy or get some really slutty, fun costume on and go to a party. The best outing in that incarnation was 1999 at a party in Oakland as a naughty doctor. It was lousy with athletes who had gone to Cal (sigh, brief staring off into space as I think about those bodies flirting with me and asking for a check up. sigh). A friend of mine is one of the owners of Trashy Lingerie.  They have great stuff, and if you are so inclined to be a hot mommy, you can order online.

One of these days I will slip on my naughty gas station attendant or whatever, but not when I’m walking my daughter around the hood. So, what does a mother wear and not embarrass herself or her family? I think I came up with it.

If You Can Eat, Eat With the Ones You Love

So, I think part of the reason Mother’s Day bugs is that I’m supposed to feel something on a certain day whether I do or not. You know, Christmas, Valentines, etc. Mother’s Day night, I was sipping wine in the backyard with my sister-in-law while my daughter ran around. (“Yeah, I’m watching you honey!”)

But last night, I took my kids to dinner with my mom and looking across the table at my mom holding Rex warmed my heart the way an eggs benedict and a corsage are suppose to do. I love sharing my children with her.

BTW, he was so good. He didn’t fuss at all, quietly fell asleep while she held him. Viv was on good restaurant behavior as well, save the crunch, crunch under her chair by a few too many tortilla chips dropped during dining.

That was very nice Mother’s Day gift. Going out to dinner with two small kids, and they were well behaved. Oh, and my mom paid!

Love My Kids, Hate Mother’s Day

I did a Mother’s Day vlog last year and not much has changed except I still don’t like it. Well, that’s not entirely true. Since the economy is worse, I like Mother’s Day because it’s a big day at my husband’s restaurant.

Yes, I’m a tad bitter because I’m not feted on Mother’s Day. But more importantly, I always feel a pang for the kids, and even us big kids, who no longer have their mothers, and this day is a knife in the heart. My mom’s father died when she was 12 and always made me sensitive to people like her. It feels cruddy if you think everyone else is running around with a corsaged mom eating Eggs Benedict, and you are left with some photographs. OMG, just thought how this day must be to a woman who has lost a child. Another hellish day in a long line of hellish days.

I know, I’m really cheery today. Happy Mother’s Day.

Merry Christmas

This is one of the bleaker Christmases I can remember. Most everyone is totally freaked about money. Even if they haven’t lost their own, they worry they will. Even in prosperous times, I think spending a bunch of money on adults is silly. Buy the kids presents. My family does a Secret Santa for the older set, so there is something to open. But years back, I got physically and financially exhausted from buying everyone presents. And as I said years ago to my family, “Unless you can give me a development deal at ABC, anything I want I can get myself.”  Since I don’t think they are going to buy me a week cruising the Greek Islands, that’s basically correct. And isn’t better to give to charity?

Bauble
Creative Commons License photo credit: Andrew Stawarz

But this year I’m having a change of heart. Businesses, small and large even, are the charities.  Witness how charitable our government has to be to the financial markets, to the car companies.  I know some sweet small stores that wait for hours for a $30 sale.

So if you have any, go ahead, and spend some money.  The law of circulation; it all goes around. I don’t know if it’s what Jesus would do. But with these great sales, maybe he would.

Christmas Card

Dear Friend, here is your card! (Yeah! That just saved me from addressing some!) I think I need a new printer, label maker program, etc.  ’cause this Christmas card thing is a bitch.

I must send cards out every year since I’m such a friggin’ shut-in (as are most people I know) that we would all cease to exist on the planet if I didn’t send a picture and a “hi” and get one likewise from friends and family.

I love the corny Christmas letters; I love the pictures of the kids as they go from cute babies to pimply teens, and later the ones of mom and dad on some trip finally unencumbered by the wee ones.

But dang it if the list isn’t pretty long and getting longer every year. And then someone always sends you one, and you go, “Crap I forgot them,” and then have to fire one back. I actually paid a friend to alphabetize my list and combine my list with my husband’s, but I still can’t figure out how to print the list correctly so I don’t have to hand address each one. And honestly, I have the writing of a serial killer, so I’m sure I’m giving the US postal office gray hairs.

My Ghetto Christmas Card

The past few years, my cards were great. During our engagement, we had a hi-lar-ious picture from Mark’s big bday bash with us, go go dancers, and our best gay friend in a boa. We looked great. The next year, Vivien was newborn so that was easy. Picture of new baby. The following year, we had a great picture of our wedding (the fun one, not the legal one)  with all of our combined children. Everyone was made up and/or tan and pretty, and it was a professional photographer. Last year, I did a spoof of a Christmas card. Vivien played in the living room happily involved in some tinsel; Oliver sat in a chair looking like he hated us ( on the edge of 14 at the time); I was in a housecoat spacing out; and Mark was bounding in joyfully home only to be ignored by all. Inside I said, “From our REAL family to yours.” And I paid someone to take it.

This year, I didn’t want to pay anyone. Mark also wanted his older son Ben in it. Which was fine with me, but by the time we all gathered, it was dark. I had a friend stand on a chair, and voila “The Peel Family Portrait.” Did it on my mac. I did capture a theme. I never sent a change-of-address card when we moved in May, so this was “From our NEW home to yours.” I bet a lot of my usual senders are shooting their holiday cards to our old address. Sometimes forwarded, sometimes not.

Oh, the pictures I am missing!