Like many American families who celebrate Christmas, mine does it in a pretty secular way. The more observant among us attend services to mark the holiday, but the magnet that pulls our scattered members across the country to one point in the Midwest is, I think, the same as what brings you and yours together on your special occasions. Togetherness. Kinship. Love — however mixed up with less-exalted emotions — of family.
This gets a little complicated when, like me, you’ve publicly stated you may never speak to your mother again. Keep reading »
I’m not one of those girls who started planning her wedding before even hitting puberty. I didn’t create a pre-engagement “Someday…” Pinterest board. Nothing against those girls, but it wasn’t for me. I wanted to wait to plan my wedding until it was a real, tangible thing. (Not to mention, my tastes change on such a regular basis that, if I were to go with a wedding I planned 10 years ago, I’d probably cry upon seeing my centerpieces.)
That said, there are a few elements of my wedding that were decided well before the ring was on my finger. One of those things: My dad won’t be the only one to lead me down the aisle; rather both my parents will take that walk with me. When my sister got married in 2008, our parents walked her down the aisle together. It was the first time I had seen or heard of that happening (then again, I never thought about it before her wedding), but it made so much sense. My sister’s was one of the first weddings I had ever been to, and I just kind of figured this whole both-parents-down-the-aisle thing was becoming common. I mean, it was 2008; why stick to the antiquated idea of the father being the one to “give the bride away”? Keep reading »
So, you’ve left the nest. Maybe you bailed on your suburban childhood home for college, or for life in a big city, or a town across the state. Maybe you have the occasional tendency to think you’re pretty hot shit because you’re off doing Big Exciting Things while everything back home seemingly stands still. Rest assured, however, that whatever impression you have of yourself as some above-it-all hip young thing will dissipate as soon as you, along with all the others who fled, descend upon your hometown. Celebrating the holidays back home is a mental time warp that keeps you seesawing between nostalgia and annoyance every few seconds until you finally leave town again. This insanity tends to arrive in stages as you sink deeper into the Thanksgiving fever dream. After the jump, a few universal facepalm moments that arise when you visit your hometown for Thanksgiving – in GIFs! Keep reading »
Thanksgiving has arrived, and there will be turkey; There will be family; There will be uncomfortable conversations likely involving something political, racial or downright inappropriate. If you’re like any of us here at The Frisky, you’d gladly prefer talking about how you’ve gained weight or why you’re still single over having to endure others’ ignorant opinions about controversial news issues. Don’t want to hear about Ferguson, Bill Cosby’s “innocence” or Obamacare this Thanksgiving? Here are 20 surefire things to say to change the topic and avoid a Turkey Day buzzkill. Keep reading »
It’s almost Thanksgiving, which means it’s time to show some gratitude for the blessings in our lives. First up is Rebecca… Keep reading »
My parents separated during my senior year of high school. That was bad enough, not because I was upset at the time about them separating, but because that first holiday season was weird — my dad was there, but only begrudgingly on my mom’s part — and once the divorce proceedings started and things got ugly, we started having to split up the holidays. My dad had moved to Madison, Wisconsin, while my mom had the house in a Chicago suburb that we’d grown up in, so it was easier for my sisters and I to do Christmas stuff with my mom. But it was a balancing act.
It got worse when I got into a relationship with my now-ex, the year I graduated from high school, because his family was intensely territorial about holidays and easily offended. So I had to see my dad, I had to see my mom and sisters, I had to see my ex’s mom and siblings, and, if possible, we’d spend time with his dad, too, but not always. Two sets of divorced parents is a pain in the ass. It’s bad when it’s two sets of parents, period, but four gets extreme. My dad has learned to work around this problem by doing family get-togethers before or after the actual holiday. Keep reading »