An Alesch Family Christmas

Happy Hungover from the Holidays Monday! To be completely honest, this is one of the last things I want to be doing right now. It’s Sunday night and I have to go back to work tomorrow after being gone for a week for our annual Christmas trip to Iowa. I’d rather be half-assed engaged in a book or a movie or any other activity that would allow me to zone out instead of concentrating on writing. BUT, here I am. I am sitting on my couch in my robe and slippers on a Sunday evening writing this blog because I have realized that we sisters, we dissident daughters, do not just use this blog to convey our grandiose thoughts and tirades to the Facebook community. No, more importantly, we use it to talk to each other, to connect with each other and in some ways it’s our own private little way of writing our not-so-private diaries and letting the other sisters read it each week. I have a feeling that soon we may even need the blog as a historical reference. We’ll go back some day and read some of these blogs together and say, “Oh, I totally forgot about that time we _____ (fill in the blank)!”

So anyway, the point of this blog is to briefly talk about the Alesch Christmas and the week’s activities (kind of like Jill did after my Bachelor Party Weekend in Chicago). I’m just going to hit the high points because frankly, if I wrote about everything, you may think I was trying to copy the script of the National Lampoons Christmas Vacation…

1. We all went to the “Small Town Christmas Throwdown” hosted by my cousin Brett and his lovely wife, Meghan in Council Bluffs, Iowa. My aunt Sherri made some of the best beef brisket you could imagine, Jill and John brought a huge meat and cheese tray, and Larry and I brought some meatballs from Spaghetti Works. I guess you could say we like our MEAT! Many drinks were had by all, of course, and before we knew it we were talking about boners hanging outside hotel windows for the SECOND Christmas in a row…

2. Larry and I spent that night at the Marriott in Downtown Omaha. This is the same hotel where we got engaged last year right before we had a sisters’ night out with my mom. It was special to me to spend the night there again. Not because I’m that type of girl that is going to relive her engagement as the biggest accomplishment in her life (far from it) but because it reminded me that the best part of getting married is having your family around you to take part in all the fun activities.

3. My sister Jill and my family threw me an absolutely BEAUTIFUL shower at a French restaurant in Omaha called Le Bouillon. I definitely wasn’t expecting all of the guests who showed up. I was so happy to see my aunts, cousins, etc. We do not get together often and it was just a really nice time. Jill and Amy made some of the best favors I have seen: personalized wine bottles with our engagement photos as the label. Oh, and the handmade, chocolate dipped Oreos were also the bomb! Thank God that Jill was able to control her anxiety and didn’t reschedule the shower for Pizza Ranch as she had threatened! I also have to make note of the fact that even at a fancy restaurant, of course Jill gives out blue balls as a door prize.

4. We went to the musical Beauty and the Beast after the shower. I had forgotten how beautiful this story really is. I got watery-eyed at a couple different points. Jill also hooked it up so that we got access to a private room during intermission where we got free drinks, appetizers, and our own bathroom. That was pretty bad ass. I have to think our friend, Big Shot Diers, had a hand in that.

5. The next day was a much needed lounge day. Kristen, Larry and I stayed overnight at Jill’s and after joking about a commemorative marathon shoe via Snapchat (I seriously think we are the only family that religiously uses Snapchat to communicate #Aleschproblems) all morning, we dropped the kids off at the sitter’s and started the day. First we visited the historic Crook House in Omaha. This was special and significant because for the last three years we have seen historic homes. The first year it was the Brucemore Mansion in Marion, Iowa. The second year it was the Dodge House in Council Bluffs. After our tour, we seriously drove ALL over Omaha getting some last minute gifts, including a huge ass fish net for my cousin. By then we were ready for drinks. Jill took us to this lovely German Bier Hall called Huber-Haus. This may have been my favorite part of the trip because it was such a surprise and so creative. You see, when Jill, John, my dad, and I went to Europe in 2012, we first went to France and then to Munich, Germany for Oktoberfest. So Jill planned my shower festivities to mirror that. First we went to a French restaurant and then the next day we went to throw back some German beers.  For dinner that night we were also in for another surprise as we went to a wine tasting at a place called Nosh in Omaha. The wine was flowing and the food was phenomenal and before we knew it, we were talking about all the drugs we did (or didn’t do) in college while Jill simultaneously planned for the kids to have their very first sleepover at the sitter’s because we were too drunk and would be home too late. YOLO, right?!

6. The next day we all drove to Des Moines. Jill left for work early in the morning (and proceeded to get sick at work) and Larry, Kristen, and I drove down later. We met up with Amy and Anne for dinner at what may be everyone’s favorite diner, Drake Diner, and later had a girls’ night, sans Jill, at Anne’s place. We played Cards Against Humanity and indulged in one of those wine bottles from my shower and laughed for about 3 hours straight. Though none of us other than Anne had ever really played before, we quickly learned that you couldn’t be “too literal” with your answer or come up with a “box answer” lest you be chastised by the group. Kristen, Larry and I stayed at a hotel that night in Des Moines, which is really insignificant but I like to mention it because I love the fact that both Larry and Kristen feel comfortable sharing a room as a threesome.

7. On Christmas Eve we went to Denison and went to the Christmas Eve Mass, which is somewhat a tradition only because we like to listen to the songs that the choir sings. We also had a delicious soup dinner that night. Larry made butternut squash soup even though he was nearly on his death bed from the flu. I really am a lucky woman. Kristen and Mom practically pulled an all-nighter even though Mom should have been sleeping and recovering from her recent thyroid surgery!

8. On Christmas Day we had brunch at our Dad’s place, which was quite impressive, I must say, complete with an egg bake, warm fruit compote, and GORP! Dad was already three beers in by the time we arrived so that was amusing. Kristen quickly joined him and threw back some Coronas (Feliz Navidad, bitches!) and we started playing Cards Against Humanity for the second time of the week. This resulted in us having to school Dad on what “queefing” was (blech!) and many other laughs at how much Dad sucked at the game until the last round. Finally the Finkens arrived and we all opened presents. Like every year, we were all grateful for the books that Dad gifted to us.

9. We went back to Mom’s on Christmas Day Night and made way too much food with way too many chefs in the kitchen. It was fun though. I would take a crowed, chaotic kitchen over a quiet Christmas dinner for two any day. We also did presents with mom. The gift that stole the show was the pair of “tig ol’ bitties” that Jill had gotten Larry and that ended up on Mom’s dining room ceiling. I must also document that, much to my chagrin, we finished all 6 bottles of wine that Larry insisted on bringing.

10. The final day we had breakfast at Mom’s and even though the culminating event of this year wasn’t as frenzied as last year when a squirrel made its way to the Christmas cookies in the middle of the kitchen table,  there was still plenty of chaos. Jill was going to leave the kids with our mother while we went to a movie so they were all hyped up, running around naked, and jumping on beds. Honestly, it wasn’t really bothering me but my mother turned to me and said, “Molly, I wanted to tell you: I know you and Larry aren’t used to all this commotion or the way we do things, but I’m so thankful that you come home every year.” To me, that was the defining line of Christmas this year. OF COURSE, not everyone is 100% in their comfort zone over the holidays, OF COURSE it it is emotionally and logistically challenging being around family so much over the holidays, but I can’t imagine it any other way and I am so thankful and blessed to be part of a loving, dysfunctional family.     

 

Holiday Magic

I'm scattered.  I'm thinking about a million things right now and don't really have a good feel about what I want to write about. I want to write about how saying you are too busy for someone or something is really a way of saying the activity or person you are declining is not a priority. I know that's harsh and you may be too busy because you have other things going on but i do think there needs to be some accountability before this statement is uttered as a reason for declining an invitation. If you are too busy because you have company or another event or need time with your children, I can understand that and I won't argue with your priorities. But we, as a society, have gotten into the habit of relying on "I'm just too busy" as our get out of jail free card for when we don't have the personal courage to admit we simply do not want to make the effort to attend. That is what I have issue with. That the line is used to brush people off without having to be accountable for our own personal choices and priorities. I'm too busy, when used in this fashion, allows us to avoid personal responsibility for our choices and can be offensive and harmful to the receiver. 

I want to write about how women need to stop being dependent on others from a financial perspective because such a situation usually only finds an end in desperation and weakness. I see many women who are unhappy because their great provider flaked out on them or because they need to stay in a semi-abusive relationship because they can't afford the alternative.  Dig in Ladies.  Sack the fuck up. Find a way to make ends meet on your own. Can you ever really be happy if you have created your own prison? Yes, it sucks. Yes, it's hard. But the alternative is worse in my opinion and I want to end the dependency keeping in mind that a partnership is different than dependency. 

But. But. But. Neither of these topics feels right, at least not right now. Maybe both hit a little too close too home. Maybe I'm not ready to poke the bear on these topics. Maybe I'm still angry because both of these issues have interfaced with my life recently. To be honest, I'm not sure. But instead of forcing it, I am instead going to write about Santa Claus...Old Saint Nick...that jolly old fellow whom we tell children to believe in and later, after years of deception, bewilder those same children with the reality that we told them to believe in something that was completely and utterly false.

Perhaps this is a morose look at the toy-building, north-pole living, red- suit wearing fantasy that we, generally without question, spew forth to our children. Many children simply accept the lie and the later truth and move on without missing a beat. For me, I remember feeling crushed, then guilty that I had asked for so much, and then stupid for having thought there was somehow a universal equalizer who brought toys to children based on the amount of their internal goodness instead of the amount of money in their parents' bank accounts. I remember thinking of all the people who had told me, without missing a beat, that Santa was real.  Who were these sick freaks that lied to children? I didn't understand why adults would create such a wonderful story just to have to reveal it was false.   And yes, I went here: If Santa wasn't real, was it possible God was a myth, too?

Yeah, I know I probably over thought it. I was an asshole even back then. Maybe it was undiagnosed autism or aspergers or hypersensitivity or some other weird ass spectrum disorder that made me unable to simply accept that every kid was lied to about Santa. I wish I wasn't this way, trust me. But, because I am this way, I can't help but wonder if this is the result we really intend to have or should intend to have with our children. Do we really want to insist that our children believe? Why do we do this? Is it for our children or is it for us? Can we create Holiday magic without the lie? Who is the lie for? Are the memories of Santa and the excitement a child feels sufficient to make up for the fact we teach our children to believe in something false? For most kids, probably. The Elves on  the Shelves, the toys at Christmas, all of it creates such wonderful memories that most children are ok with the whole charade and pass it along to their kids in turn. But, I think like all things, we have to consciously be aware of who our children are and what is best for them based on that. We can't simply do what everyone else does out of habit or laziness or just because we have always done it that way. We have an obligation to know our children and do what is best for them, not what is easiest or better for us as the parents.

My son is six and he, unfortunately, is much like me in demeanor and mind. Trevor does not believe in Santa. There. Be appalled. Judge me as ruining his childhood. I know that's a typical reaction. In fact, my husband had this reaction.  But I'm standing firm on this one. I know my son. The reality is that my son has challenged me since the day he was born. He is literal to a fault and has been diagnosed as hypersensitive which explains why he was colicky and why he sometimes wakes up and he feels all wrong inside and his brain is telling him to be naughty today (his words). He is an old soul and a unique person with very special needs, much like I was. His brain is always turning, trying to figure things out. He asked me about the meaning of life at age 4. He wanted to know why people died and what happens in heaven at the same age. He wondered why heaven was in the sky when we knew it was just sky and nothing more.  He continues to challenge me with questions about whether dinosaurs are in heaven and how do we know they really lived because someone could have just put those bones there to trick us. Touche, Trevor. He said to me the other day, "Don't you just ever think about how weird it is that we are alive? You know, that we are even here at all?" And I tell him, "Yes, I do,"and that is the truth. I tell him part of the beauty of life and death is the mystery of it all. But I do feel like I don't have any answers and that I'm failing him sometimes. That's not going to change so what I have told him, unequivocally,  is that while I may not have all the answers I will always always be honest with him and do my best to answer his questions honestly.

As a result, I began to fancy myself as the purveyor of truth to my son. He could ask me the tough questions and he did. Questions about God, Jesus, heaven, hell, dinosaurs, and many others came pouring in.  And although I can't solve the question of why dinosaurs went extinct or why they were alive to begin with, or how the Earth was created, I felt like the honesty thing was working really well for me up until my son asked me if Santa was real.

I wanted to avoid the lie of Santa. I wanted to continue the wide -eyed excitement of Christmas morning. But I was the self-proclaimed purveyor of truth. And I couldn't reconcile those two positions, at least not with knowing how my son thinks and experiences his world.  After about a minute of reflection, because that's literally all I had, what I realized was that all reasons I wanted to lie were reasons that were selfish or specific to me but not in my son's best interest at all.  So I told Trevor the truth. I told him that we had promised each other that we would be honest with each other no matter what. And so I was going to tell him the truth. So the self-proclaimed and oh-so-humbled purveyor of truth said to her son that Santa wasn't a person like we are led to believe. In fact, Santa didn't bring presents or live in the North Pole. But Santa was real in the sense he represented and stood for the feeling of love and the magic of giving and receiving presents from a loved one. And in that case, everyone could be excited about Christmas and we didn't need Santa to be excited. Christmas was magical because it symbolized love.

My son did not cry or even bat an eyelash. In contrast, I remember being devastated and crying when i found out that there really wasn't a red-suited, toy-hocking man who had the ability to break into every house in the world one night a year to deliver presents. But Trevor simply said; "Oh. So where DO the presents come from?" I responded that his mom and dad love him very much and WE give him the presents. He beamed. "You love me that much?" he asked. I assured him we did and would continue to do so. My son left feeling loved and  seemingly unscathed. I left feeling glad I had not lied to my son or threatened him that if he didn't believe in something he would not get presents. Instead, my son began, on that day, to associate Christmas presents with the love John and I and others feel for him. We still play Elf on the Shelf but it's a game between Trevor and I, and it is still fun and magical because it is played out of the love between a mother and a son. I don't need a myth to have the magic. It's there on its own and it always has been. 

Many people who hear that story think it's crazy and accuse me of ruining Christmas for my son. I understand, but I respectfully disagree. My son is like me. He believes,  without reservation or hesitation,  that people should not lie. He believes in me and trusts in me and I don't want to change that despite the fact it has sometimes backfired. I'm reminded of when my son asked me what the "F" word was and I told him because I wanted him to hear it from me rather than his friends. But the next day my son said "Fuck," to my husband. When my husband asked who taught him that and Trevor said, "My mommy," I couldn't deny it. So it hasn't always worked out perfectly. But for the most part, I'm happy with being the self-dubbed purveyor of truth.

Since having that conversation with Trevor, which also led to the big reveal about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny as well, I have heard my son tell adults who ask him about Santa that Santa is not real and that Santa is just more like a feeling. I'm proud to hear him say that. I'm proud he is not upset. I'm proud I didn't lie to him or force him to believe in a myth for my own gain. This is an unpopular view, I know. But I know my son, and I'm confident I did the right thing. I overheard my son tell his Aunt Molly that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real and that his mom told him it was more just like a feeling because we were honest with each other in our family. And I smiled. I smiled even bigger when later that night Trevor came out of his bed to ask for water and when I tucked him back in he stopped me and said, "Mom, to be honest, like you are all the time, I snuck my IPad into bed with me and have been playing this whole time. I got a new guy and I told myself after I went to bed, 'Trevor, that was a good plan.'" I laughed and was happy he had told me the truth. I don't need an imaginary white bearded,  cookie eating, sleigh riding myth to show my son the magic of Christmas.  Love shows us the magic every single day. That's something even adults can feel magical about. 

"Thank you God, for this good life, and forgive us if we do not love itenough."--Garrison Keillor

I am grateful. I feel so blessed and loved and I am grateful for feeling this way. I am grateful for the people in my life who love and bless me. I am grateful for the opportunity to love and bless the people in my life.

I have a list of blog topics that grows daily and when I was trying to decide which one I would write about, the word and feeling "gratitude" kept coming into my heart and my head. I'm working on putting together a yoga class and gratitude is the theme there as well. I know better than to ignore myself when I have these moments so this post is about gratitude and its place in my life right now.

I recently went through a separation with my romantic partner and the separation involved me moving to a new space. Neither of these things were easy, emotionally or physically. I am still grieving the losses.

And I feel grateful. I am grateful because I have wonderful friends who helped me emotionally and physically through these last few months: my friend who offered me a place to live when I needed one, at an extremely affordable rate; my friend who took an extraordinary amount of time out of his work day to help me move things I couldn't move by myself; my friends who took time to talk with me, to help me process, who put up with me when I was a wreck and sort of a bitch and loved me in spite of myself.

I am grateful for the Thanksgiving I was able to spend with my mom and two of my beautiful sisters. The memories we made and the laughs we had are priceless. My time with them reminds me of who I am and how much my family loves and supports me. They somehow understood that weekend was about us and not about asking questions about what happened or what my life status was.

I am grateful for the people I work with and the customers who come into my work places. These people share themselves, their energy, their personalities and their experiences with me on a regular basis and allow me to serve them, which is a beautiful gift in and of itself to give someone...the opportunity to serve. I am blessed to have jobs that leave me in a better mood when I leave than when I got there.

I am grateful for being reminded of how I touch other people in ways I'm not always aware of...and for how it seems to happen on days when I need it the most: the day my nephew called me to tell me he got prizes from Boy Scouts because I helped him sell popcorn and "it was all because of you, Aunt Amy!"; the day I received a thank you card from my sister thanking me for being present at her bachelorette party and for cutting my shirt into a sports bra (I laughed and cried at that!) and for being a good older sister.

I am grateful to have the opportunity, time and space right now to process and work towards clarity in many areas of my life...to get out of the "grayness". And I am grateful for being grateful. I am not saying any of this has been easy and trust me, I've shed my share of tears and been sad and depressed and lacked energy and been a bitch and not loved myself or others during this time period. But the notion that I am still grateful despite the hurt and sadness and transition....for that I am truly grateful because I think this is the first time in my life I am in a healthy enough state of mind, body and soul to be able to experience both things at the same time. Both/and NOT or.

There are two quotes which I think are very fitting to what I am trying to say with this post:

"There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy."--Ralph H. Blum

I feel that calm in the midst of my inner and outer transition and turmoil and I do believe it is gratitude that has allowed me to feel calm and at peace. Gratitude has made it easier to deal with anger, sadness, hurt and anxiety. Sometimes it soothes those feelings, sometimes it makes them smaller and sometimes there isn't room for them anymore because of the gratitude taking up all the space. That's how I've experienced it.

To summarize, I want to say that this experience has not been easy. I do not want my message to be misconstrued-like there was not hurt, sadness, anger...all of the emotions associated with loss. Like I said earlier...I have been a wreck and depressed and it has been hard on me. That said, there is a calm within me and I have experienced gratitude during these times...it's both/and, not one way or the other. 

I also want to convey the message that expressing gratitude to someone is extremely powerful for both the giver and the recipient. You do not know how your gratitude might touch someone when they need it. And you might not know how much your own gratitude can do for you in tumultuous times. So let people know what you're grateful for and be specific. There is a powerful beauty in handwriting the message.

The second quote is the quote used in this post's title by Garrison Keillor: "Thank you God, for this good life, and forgive us if we do not love it enough." We are all blessed...especially if we are reading this blog, there is no doubt we are blessed. Love of life and gratitude...they may not be synonymous but they are definitely entwined, in my experience. And that, dear reader, might be for a different blog post. Suffice it to say, gratitude has allowed me to love my life in all of its various, beautiful, sometimes harried, sometimes scary, sometimes exciting, sometimes contented stages. And for that, I AM GRATEFUL.

Wall Street to Walmart

Caroline, 22 years old and a recent University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) graduate, has just entered the realm of the job market. Young and optimistic, she has high hopes of becoming an accountant or a financial adviser because as she understood it, if one obtained a business degree one was guaranteed a decent paying job right out of college. Coming from a middle class family, Caroline received minimal financial aid every semester. Her parents supported her as much as they could, but with tuition being right around $30,000/year, she had no other choice but to take out loans. Caroline’s fresh excitement of being a college graduate in the working world soon disintegrated upon the realization of just how much debt she had accumulated during her 4 years at U of I. On top of that she had only received 8 call backs for an interview out of the 50 jobs she had applied for and was over qualified for. Out of angst and frustration, Caroline ended up moving back home with her mom and dad, taking a managerial position at their local Wal-Mart.

I have drawn out a fake or not so fake scenario above of what appears to be becoming a more and more common trend among today’s college graduates. John Schmitt, a labor economist for the Center for Economic and Policy Research in Washington noted that among 22-year-old degree holders who found jobs in the past three years, more than half were in roles not requiring a college diploma (http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2014-06-05/college-graduates-struggle-to-find-employment-worth-a-degree.html) . This is extremely frustrating to myself because I will be graduating within the next seven months and already see the financial hardships that lie ahead of me. So folks, what exactly is going on with America’s college graduates?

Ever since we were old enough to understand the concept of education, we were taught that in order to be financially stable and successful, we had to obtain a college degree. This may have been true 15 years ago before the economy completely went to the shitter, but in the year 2014 having a Bachelor’s degree does not guarantee a person a job and most definitely does not guarantee financial stability. In fact, I would almost go to the lengths to argue that obtaining a college degree does the very opposite of that today.

Neoliberalism is basically a new form of capitalism which emphasizes free trade and reductions in government spending in order to enhance the role of private sectors in the economy. With this new form of economic policy, public education takes a huge hit. The privatization of education not only forces students to pay an arm and a leg to attend an acquitted university in hopes of one day working for a viable salary, but also creates a substantial gap in the quality of education amongst the private and public universities. Only the rich and families with educational connections have the money to send their children to the best of universities, such as Harvard, Cornell, etc. where a lot more is expected out of the students and the professors and your attendance is only desirable if you have the money to pay for it.

Meanwhile, someone from the middle/lower class (because let’s face it middle and lower class are one in the same now) does not have the opportunity or financial status to attend a college of such a high stature.  They then attend a state school where they still seem to be paying an arm and a leg, but only for a mediocre education.  This is an issue because after college graduation you enter the real world with a bunch of debt and many times cannot even find a job in your field of study to start paying it off. You’re indebted and the only thing you have to show for it is a measly piece of paper reading “Bachelor of such and such” that cannot even land you a job.

Over the past few weeks I have heard a lot of “The system is broken” in many different contexts which I totally agree that the so called system is fucked up, however it is not broken. Our capitalistic system is functioning in the very way that it is supposed to. Once again, ever since we were little we were told that if we work hard we could advance and prosper with our careers and economic status. However, due to the privatization of education, among other things, it is merely functioning in a way to support the rich and shit on the poor. Capitalism stresses the idea that anyone can be successful and advance professionally with dedication and hard work, but truth be told in order to even enter the dugout of the playing field, money is required. Our system is not designed to support the success of everyone; it is designed to support the success of a few and the failures of the rest.

This type of system makes it significantly more difficult for a person to rise above their raisings and realistically is not sustainable because eventually the lower middle class will not be able to thrive at all in today’s economy. Many people remain at the same economic class as their parents, yet we still are taught that our system is designed for anyone to succeed if they have a good work ethic. So many people want to try and get out of that cycle of poverty yet when they do something to try and change that such as going to college, it’s almost like they take one step forward and two steps back. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to dissuade someone from going to college, I am however, encouraging people to be aware of what is exactly happening in America today, and to not necessarily label every factor as “good or bad” but to see the intended and unintended consequences of the system in which America was built upon.