Urban Mama

Nothing Like the Holidays

Last week I saw the movies "This Christmas" and "Nothing Like the Holidays." Both movies are funny but forgettable holiday flicks aimed at African-American and Latino audiences, respectively. Neither is supposed to make you weep, but weep I did, especially after "Holidays," which is about a Puerto Rican family that lives in Chicago's Boricua neighborhood, Humboldt Park. 

Seeing the Rodriguez clan talk over each other while the non-Latina wife asks why the family is "fighting" rang true for me. We were all pretty loud growing up. Not "call the cops, the crazy Hispanic family is fighting again" loud, but definitely "outside voices" loud. We can talk about everything -- religion, pop culture, politics, education, money, kids -- and we can spend hours at a dinner table (well, if there weren't young children to mind). But Christmas will never be the same again, now that our matriarch is gone. 

I know her spirit lives on in all of us and all the other platitudes, but the flesh-and-blood Mami bringing us all together, mediating our little squabbles, reminding us of our Colombian heritage, making arroz con coco, and buying our children annoying electronic toys is not here anymore, and it sucks. And the hurt is unavoidable and inescapable. Everywhere I look there are grandparents buying presents for their grandchildren, mothers and daughters walking arm-in-arm at the mall, grandmas strolling their grandbabies, onesies that say "Grandma is Better than Santa." I just want it all to stop -- not the holiday necessarily, because I can't wait to see my siblings and nieces and nephews -- but all the reminders of what we've lost now that Mami has passed.  

My in-laws, who are both older than my mother, came over last weekend to drop off a truckload opresents for three kids. They're spending Christmas with their other daughter-in-law's family in one of those below-freezing states. I'm sure they're hurt they weren't invited to spend Christmas with my side of the family, but I'm also sure they aren't sensitive enough to understand why. This is not a Christmas any of us in my family wants to spend watching healthy elderly grandparents dote on their grandchildren. Certainly not I, and they're my kids' grandparents. Not my sister or her husband, whose father died the day after Thanksgiving and whose children, at 11 and 13, no longer have living grandparents. Not my brother and sister-in-law, whose own mother was recently touch-and-go in the hospital for serious heart and respiratory failures (they're coming the 26th, in fact, so she can be with her recuperating mother, who's still in fragile health). 

This is a Christmas the four of us and our families need to spend together. Diana is going to cook the arroz con coco, and a few of us have in Mami's honor, gotten the children loudy and parent-aggravating gifts (thanks a bunch sis!). We'll be, I imagine, in a cocoon of grief and joy: grief because we will never spend another Christmas with Mami, but joy because we can remember all the wonderful years we did.

Photo: Christmas 1999 at Diana's home in Central Florida

Giving Thanks

It's a difficult year to feel especially thankful. My mother died 8 weeks ago, and it's my first holiday without her. I'm worried that I won't be able to enjoy today, but I know that our friends Dave and Jen will be tolerant of any possible emotional outbursts. They've both seen me cry before, so I feel comfortable spending the day at their home.

I also know that there are obviously still reasons to be thankful. It's my 8-month-old baby's first Thanksgiving -- our first as a party of five. The baby has brought us so much joy, and I am so relieved Mami met him, loved him and was able to hold and sing to him before she died.

I'm grateful that I was so close to Mami. Not everyone enjoys the kind of closeness we shared, and I consider myself lucky to have had such a vibrant, generous, selfless woman as a mother. Her laughter, her inimitable presence will be missed around the Thanksgiving table today and every holiday to come. 

As I grieve the loss of my mother on a day we all gather to eat and give thanks with family and friends, I'll take time to remember Thanksgivings past. I'll give thanks for all the years I ate Mami's ground-beef-stuffed turkey and arroz con coco. I'll give thanks for the opportunity to keep her spirit alive.

I wish you all a meaningful, memorable Thanksgiving.

The Last Thanksgiving

Last year on this very day, my sister Diana surprised me by driving up from Florida to be at my house for Thanksgiving week. She wasn't going to come -- it was just going to be Mami, my oldest brother Louis and his family, and my brood -- but she woke up that Sunday with a premonition that it would be Mami's last Thanksgiving. Diana was right. 

Our brother Jorge wasn't able to change his plans with his wife's family, but Mami was able to spend her final Thanksgiving with three-quarters of her children and all but one of her grandchildren (well two, but baby J was still incubating, as you can see in the picture). We took a lot of pictures -- more than usual. Mami bought all of the grandkids matching sweaters at the Children's Place, a tradition she started years ago, for the occasion. She loved one photo so much she used it for her Christmas card.

I don't recall thinking it was Mami's last Thanksgiving at the time. She was sick, yes, but she always managed to put on a happy face. I knew the cancer had spread to the lungs and most recently to the liver. I knew she wasn't going to make it another five years, but I was comforted by the fact that she still seemed herself. She still colored her hair, put on makeup, ironed her clothes, meticulously selected her accessories, spoke incessantly on her cell phone. I was aware of the seriousness of the disease, but I was also slightly in denial, because Mami was always protecting us from ugly truths, especially me -- her baby. 

I do remember a lot of trivial things about that week. The guys (my brother, brother-in-law, husband, son and nephews) got crappy, unprofessional haircuts at the Wheaton Mall. The kids made a Thanksgiving Tree with construction-paper leaves that detailed reasons they were thankful (for food, friends, bedrooms, computers, TV shows, etc.). Diana and I ran out to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy serving platters and a folding table. My brother-in-law and husband smoked a ham in the backyard using two terracotta pots. We all ate a surprisingly expensive, soup-to-nuts dinner at the cheesy but entertaining Piratz Tavern. While the rest of us trekked to the Washington Mall to visit the monuments and museums, Mami spent a day visiting one of her oldest family friends in Gaithersburg. Diana had to finish preparing the traditional arroz con coco for our Thanksgiving meal, but I'm not sure why Mami couldn't make it. 

I've become rather obsessive trying to remember even the tiniest of details about that Thanksgiving. I look at the photostream from that week nearly every day. I close my eyes and can see Mami, can hear her voice, can smell her perfume. I thought I would remember Thanksgiving 2007 because it was my first in my new home, but I'll remember it because it was the last one of Mami's life. How do I face this Thursday without replaying last year in my head, over and over again?

Opting Out ... of Valentine's Day

Our very first Valentine's Day together as a couple, back in 1997, the husband and I had been "going steady" -- as it used to be called -- for 11 months. I was a junior and he was a senior at Columbia. I expected him to wow me with a reservation at a mid-level Manhattan restaurant, perhaps a bouquet of roses, a Tiffany's necklace. It's what I had witnessed the previous two years among our dating peers, so I figured it was what being in a relationship for V-Day meant. That evening, I waited in his dorm room all dressed up -- I didn't have a key, but his roommate John and I were close friends, so he let me in and chatted until it was time for him to start his festivities. Finally, the husband made it back to his dorm. He looked flustered -- he had just returned from Newark, where he had an interview at The Star Ledger. With his out-stretched hands he gave me a bouquet of carnations -- the one flower I have always equated with grandmothers and funeral sprays. Then he said: "Where should we eat?" Cue the sound of Valentine's Day expectations crashing.

Being 20 and relatively new at love, I did the most immature thing ever -- I cried. Real tears. Over not having the Valentine's Day that Hallmark and DeBeer's commercials had promised me. In the 11 years since, we have had traditionally romantic Valentine's Day full of calla lilies and little Tiffany's boxes. We've also had momentous Valentine's Days, like last year, when it was the day we decided to move to DC after 13 and 14 happy years in New York City. In 2006, the day was a complete bust. I'll quote from my private LiveJournal:

I was supposed to eat lunch with a coworker, but as it turned out, her boyfriend of many years had surprised her with lunch. It was a sweet gesture, and I was blown away by its thoughtfulness. Another coworker got flowers, and she didn't make a big deal about it, but I could tell she was pleased. As for me, I knew we were going to dinner, but I girlishly daydreamed about the possibilities of my gift: a book from my wishlist... a much-need facial or manicure... We aren't big spenders, especially for Valentine's Day, so I knew not to expect a robin's-egg-blue box or anything too extravagant, but surely something.

Instead, my husband came home with... flowers. Flowers he bought on his way to the subway... Flowers. No card, no gift, just flowers. Then, on the way to the car, he tells me it was his secretary's birthday. He tells me how he had to go to L'Occitane and get her a gift. Then, all of a sudden, I immediately felt angry. He was at L'Occitane? He couldn't get me a present there? I tell him this after he seriously, completely guilelessly acts what's wrong, and he says: "You really wanted smelly soaps?" How could a husband be so clueless? Yes, smelly French soaps, to me, are a much better gift than flowers, which he obviously spent 0 minutes picking out. I told him about the men, the men of all ages and sizes and economic backgrounds I saw today with their bundles and packages. He asks me if I honestly think those men love their wives and girlfriends more than he loves me. I say no, but they obviously thought of them more.

So this year, I emailed my husband on Monday and offered him a way to opt out:

why don't we use one of our 10% off coupons and order zingerman's? we can have a nosh-fest/LOST-fest in the basement after the kids go to bed on thursday. we could also buy a little something from amazon. just trying to make this easy, since i know you don't care but also don't want to disappoint me.

to which he responded:

you know me so well.  we're a good pair.

So you see, it's not that my husband doesn't care about ME, he doesn't care about red hearts and Victoria's Secret and boxes of chocolate. He always tries, and yet sometimes comes up short of my little-girl expectations -- even after more than a decade of knowing my husband would much prefer to recognize my birthday and our anniversary than some arbitrary day in the middle of February. So I've finally grown up. I've finally seen the light. The kids can have their Valentine's Day cards and parties. As for us, we'll make ordering a box of gourmet goodies (we heart Zingerman's) and noshing down in our rec room a tradition. I am loved, truly, madly, deeply. I don't need a stuffed bear or a lacy red nightgown or even a three-course-meal to feel that way.

 

New Christmas Traditions

My husband and I are hosting our first Christmas in our own home. Despite the fact that our home looks like a tornado flew threw it, leaving piles of wrapping paper, Amazon and Barnes & Noble boxes, magazines and children's art project scattered everywhere, we are excited about this Christmas. Since it's "our" house and not my in-laws' or siblings' houses, we decided to do things our way.

• We will not make a meal that is exactly like Thanksgiving dinner, like his parents do. We are trying a new menu mostly inspired by friends and the best of what we had growing up.
• We will not exchange all the gifts on Christmas Day. Adult gifts will be exchanged after midnight on Christmas Eve, the way we did in my family, but the kids will have their giftopalooza on Christmas morning.
• We will give the kids their own ornament to put on the tree on Christmas Eve, as well as a special set of Christmas jammies.
• We will make Christmas cookies (saving some for Santa, of course) and a Gingerbread house on Christmas Eve
• We will do stocking stuffers, even though neither of us had filled stockings growing up.
• We will go to the early Christmas Eve service -- a continuing tradition for both of us
• We will make a special donation to a cause that we both believe in
• We will read the story of Jesus' birth, so we don't lose sight of why we celebrate Christmas

What Christmas traditions have you started or continued with your family? What are your favorite holiday traditions?

Holiday Giveaway #2: Thanksgiving Memories

  Cousins 
  Originally uploaded by sandiechen

Last night our house seemed eerily, unacceptably quiet. There was only one car parked in front, and only two children running around inside. For the past five days, the husband and I had hosted two of my three siblings and their families. The cousins, ranging in age from 3 to 12, had so much fun they were rarely visible -- just an audible mass of laughter and energy. It made me sad that we can only manage to ALL get together once a year or so.

This was our first Thanksgiving as hosts, and despite some initial stress at the lack of formal dinnerware and seating, we learned to mellow out and enjoy the chaos of a lovingly full house. In fact, thanks to my industrious sister-in-law, who made four side dishes, my amazing husband who made the turkey, my brother-in-law who cooked the ham after fashioning a smoker out of two ceramic planters, and my sister, I only contributed one dish to my own Thanksgiving: buttermilk mashed potatoes. Score! My brother bought wine and beer, and can clean a kitchen faster than a Merry Maid on speed, so he got out of cooking.

One of my favorite memories of the holiday was getting this picture of all the cousins (minus their baby cousin Isabella, who was visiting her mom's side of the family in Miami) on my staircase. Abuela (that's grandmother in Spanish to those of you uninitiated in the language, or "Dora" and "Diego") had bought all the kids matching sweaters specifically so she could take a picture with and of  all the grandkids. It was heartwarming to see them all gather on the stairs and to think that the next time we all reunite, there should be at least two more little people in the photo.

So to win my second holiday giveaway: "The Santa Clause 3 -- The Escape Clause,"  leave a comment with a favorite memory about this Thanksgiving. Even if you don't want the DVD, I'd love to hear about what made your holiday special this year.

Holiday Giveaway: Week One

Each week until Christmas, I will be giving away a DVD to one lucky poster. Since I recently reviewed the holiday movie "Fred Claus," this week's prize is "It's a Wonderful Life." For a very obvious reason this title gets repackaged and reissued each holiday season, so there's no need for me to keep three copies of it on my shelves, or to be more precise, in my 25 bankers' boxes full of DVDs I have yet to unpack.

To enter the contest, you just have to share what your favorite holiday movie is and explain why you love it. The movie itself doesn't have to be Christmas-centric, just a movie that you and or your family love to see around the holidays, with a cup of hot cocoa in a bucket of popcorn. And before anyone brands me a bigot, I'd just like to say that all sorts of agnostic, atheist, non-Christian moviegoers love movies like "A Christmas Story" and "The Wizard of Oz." See, I even gave you two suggestions you can pick.

If you absolutely HATE holiday movies but still want a chance to win the DVD, then at least post the funniest "It's a Wonderful Life" spoof in film or television. There are dozens, from "The Simpsons" to "Married With Children."

I'll select the winner on Friday and send the DVD out early next week. Good luck!

Soul Sisters Unite

Two of my favorite women in the world: sisters (and fellow blogging mamas) Jen and Patience (Pache to her friends) have created an online companion to their holiday zine, The Soul Sisters Guide to a Very Merry Christmas. I got a copy of the zine gratis, thanks to my 14-year-friendship with Pache, but it can be yours for only $7 shipped. What you get is 75 pages of essays, recipes, advice and more to warm your heart this holiday season. I highly recommend you all check it out!

The Big V-Day

Romance post-baby isn't exactly as constant as it was pre-baby. There just isn't enough time in the day to deal with work, parenthood, law school, housework, the Schmoop and regular romantic overtures. I am not even talking about sex, but about the sweet little objects of love. It's not like I used to receive a bouquet of roses and endless supply or Tiffany-blue boxes and spa gift certificates. But there was a sense in pre-baby world that romance meant something tangible like jewelry. Now my husband expresses his love through little favors like letting me sleep an extra half-hour on Saturday morning, not a new pair of earrings. The "sweets" these days are home-made hot cocoa instead of a box of Godiva. So tomorrow for Valentine's Day, although we are planning a dinner-and-movie date, we'll treasure the four hours alone together my mother is allowing us to enjoy. It may not be a night at One if By Land and the Ritz, but it's love parenthood style.

Happy Lunar Year!

So, today is the beginning of the Year of the Monkey. Luckily we were able to snag to one of the last Gymboree monkey overalls in the City after calling all four stores in Manhattan. The Schmoop will probably debut his monkey outfit on Sunday, when we attend the annual parade in Chinatown. We're not fans of mixing big crowds with an unruly toddler who refuses to hold hands, but I have a feeling Daddy will use the Yakima backpack to keep the babe reigned in -- at least while we're on Canal Street.

Chinese New Year isn't a huge deal to us, despite the husband's Asian parentage. We do enjoy the annual shipment of "lucky money" from his side of the family. Still, we think Schmoopie will get a kick out of the parade, and we'll stop in and get dim sum with a few of our Jewish friends who love Chinese food. Should be fun. Since we're on the topic, I'll share that I was born during the Year of the Dragon. The Schmoop is Year of the Snake. The husband is Year of the Rabbit. We each have little jade figurines that the in laws sent us of our respective zodiac animals. Unlike Rosh Hashanah for Jews, the New Year has no spiritual implications for my husband (or his family, from what I can tell). They do expect phone calls and abide by the tradition of giving aforementioned lucky money in little red envelopes :-).

So, from the mother of a Chino-Latino toddler, here's wishing you a Happy New Year!