Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town (But Your Mom Needs To Stay Home)
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My mom has no family other than me, which my in-laws are aware of, yet for the past few years they’ve hosted Christmas at their house and haven’t invited her. They live out of state, so my husband and I end up fighting over where I’m “supposed” to go, and I inevitably end up staying with my mom while he travels alone to see his family.
I don’t see why my mom should have to sit home alone on Christmas when she could easily be invited. Her apartment is too small to host a holiday herself, but my husband and I have hosted many holidays at our house and his parents, siblings and the siblings’ girlfriends and boyfriends are always invited. I wouldn’t ever exclude one or both of his parents.
My in-laws also think nothing of discussing Christmas plans in front of my mom when they visit for other holidays, even though she’s the only person in the room who’s not invited, which she finds very hurtful. When I’ve brought up the issue to them in the past, they claimed that they just “didn’t think of her” and she would be invited next time, but she never has been.
They’ve known my mom for years and seem to get along well with her, so I don’t know why she’s not welcome at their house. My husband has said he’s afraid of confronting his parents, so he won’t back me up if I raise the issue again. What should I do?
Signed,
My Mom’s Home Alone
_______________________
Dear My Mom’s Home Alone,
I usually try to understand both sides of an issue before I give my brilliant Mouthy Housewives advice, however this time I’m not doing that. Because I absolutely-100%-without- even-a-hint-of-a-doubt think this: your in-laws are being jerks.
Unless your mom is an obnoxious drunk or a racist or a loudmouth about her political/religious/Kardashian views, I don’t see any reason why they wouldn’t include her when they know it means so much to their daughter-in-law. My parents happily invited my husband’s mom and dad to our family gatherings from the moment we were engaged and even celebrated birthdays with them when we weren’t there. And more recently, my dad has graciously invited elderly military widows to our Christmas dinners so they don’t have to spend the day alone. (Which is a wonderful thing until that scrappy Edith tries to steal the last drumstick.)
As to why your in-laws being so stingy in this time of giving? Well, they could be one of those families that tend to be rather clannish and don’t like outsiders. (“It’s just The Andersons!”) Or they don’t like your mother for some reason they won’t disclose. Or maybe, and most probably, they’re just completely thoughtless. But the reason doesn’t really matter when it’s causing you and your mom so much hurt.
My advice is to tell your husband again that this is a huge problem for you. They’re his parents, and you’ve already let them know how you feel, so he’s got to man up and talk to them. If he does, great. If not, tell him that you’ll be spending the holiday with your mother and not him. It’s an unfortunate situation, but nobody should be alone on the holidays and you’re a good daughter for knowing that.
I wish you the best of luck with the situation and welcome any of our readers to weigh in with their advice. As Washington Irving said, “Christmas! ‘Tis the season for kindling the fire for hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.” Hopefully your in-laws will pull their heads out and realize the wisdom of that sentiment some day soon.
Best,
Wendi, TMH
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Mouthing Off: Holiday Commercials
Oh, you know the ones I’m talking about.
Lexus.
Kay Jewelers.
That one where they won’t stop talking about ORGIES. (Or maybe it’s 4G. Whichever.)
They’re the ever-present car, jewelry, and gadget commercials that make us all feel like a steaming pile of reindeer poop. The ones that suggest you’re probably not a real husband or wife if you don’t fork out some serious cash for blood diamonds this year. I mean, the holiday season is stressful enough, wouldn’t you say? How the hell are we supposed to get into the spirit while being bombarded with images of hipster car drivers with a keen ear for obscure piano music and PDA-loving, diamond-adorned romance novel characters?
It’s CHRISTMASTIME, not Armageddon for crying out loud!
In fact, just the other day, I was enjoying a moment of family harmony after dinnertime. In that brief, blissful five minute period, there were no quarters shoved in the Wii, no sweaty socks sitting on the dining room table, and no shrieks of horror bellowing from the laundry room. The four of us sat on the couch and clicked on the television for some educational programming when–
BAM!
Jane Seymour strikes again.
Suddenly my husband was cursing under his breath about the impossible pressures that are placed on modern man while the children lamented the fact that our Christmas tree wasn’t topped with a Swarovski-studded star. I even found myself daydreaming about chocolate-covered diamonds and humming, “Every kiss begins with…STOP IT! STOP IT NOW!”
We tried to salvage the evening, but a few minutes later, we were subjected to that horrid Lexus commercial. You know the one.
WHY IS THERE A CAR IN OUR LIVING ROOM?!
I WANT A DIVORCE!
I’m not sure what type of feeling it’s meant to evoke, but I’m guessing RAGE isn’t what the advertising executives had in mind. And yet that’s all I can manage to muster when I hear that insipid tune followed by a look of recognition and excitement on some 1%-er’s face. What is this 1953, and we’re all on an episode of Name That Tune? At this point, my family had all had quite enough. My husband flipped the couch over, the children set fire to the Christmas tree, and I went off to find the vodka I buried in the back yard.
And as I lay there in the back yard, covered in dirt and mourning the days of Christmases past, I started scripting my own goddamn commercial in my head. Because who are these people who buy cars for Christmas, and where the hell do they get those ridiculous bows? WHERE? So here’s my version of a more realistic holiday commercial:
*****
Scene: A bickering couple rides in their building’s elevator, late for a holiday party. She digs in her purse for a tape recorder to play the Lexus theme music and surprise her husband.
Him: What the hell are you looking for? Don’t tell me you left your wallet in the apartment, because we are NOT going back, Meegan.
Her: OHJUSTSHUTUPANDLISTENTOTHISMUSICFORAMINUTE! [Presses play.]
Him: I can’t hear anything.
Her: [Banging on tape recorder.] Jesus. I think it’s broken.
The elevator stops and opens. He walks out.
Her: NO WAIT! Why are you always trying to ruin my surprises?!
Him: What surprise? [Spots car parked in front of the building with a red bow.] Ha! Getta load of this! Some asshole bought a $45,000 car for his wife. He probably didn’t even ask her first. Surprise honey, I spent your retirement! What an idiot!
Her: Um, SURPRISE, honey! That’s for you!
Him: [Incredulous.] That’s for ME?
Her: [Beaming with satisfaction.] Mmm-hmm!
Him: Why the…I don’t….I mean…it’s…RED. Why are you always trying to emasculate me?! And are those cloth seats? God, this is the worst Christmas ever.
FIN.
*****
THIS is your American clientele, Lexus. Get it right next year for Pete’s sake.
_________________________
This post contains a sponsored Patio Furniture link. Thank you!
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It’s Your Party And I’ll Stay Home If I Want To
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
Are people obligated to attend their spouse’s office Christmas party? My husband expects me to go to his (I don’t make him go to mine), and I REALLY don’t want to go. It’s just one more thing on my already overscheduled holiday calendar.
I don’t really know the people there and have little in common with them. Plus, most office parties are completely boring and I kind of resent forking out for a babysitter just so I can hang out with people I don’t know and be bored out of my mind. I want to reclaim some of the holiday season for myself and my family instead of trying to fulfill society’s expectations.
Can a person get out of going to these parties without causing a fuss or damaging a career?
Signed,
Don’t Make Me Party,
_____________________________________
Dear Don’t Make Me Party,
You know, if you hate office Christmas parties so much, maybe you should have married someone Jewish. Then the two of you could stay at home and make latkes while the rest of the office got their egg nog on. But you didn’t think of that, did you? No, you had to marry for “love” instead. You reap what you sow, baby! (That’s the New Testament, by the way.)
Personally, I don’t know anyone who enjoys her spouse’s holiday parties. Because unless you’re friends with the people there or have a mad crush on your spouse’s co-worker, it is just a work event. With wine. That you can’t drink with abandon because it’s a work event.
And yet in our society it’s expected that people who work together every day and have to get along in exchange for money and health insurance get together and be merry. Fortunately the expectation has been holding steady at “once a year” for a while now. Mostly. Some companies have summer barbecues and spring cruises and the September key parties. Count your blessings.
I’ll wait.
Every company has a different party culture and if your husband says that your attendance is important, do it. Wave the team flag, make small talk. You don’t want him to be the only one there without his trophy wife.
But have some ground rules. Commit to a time limit, ninety minutes perhaps, and have a safe word if he forgets to start saying good byes after that time. In my experience “you promised no more than ninety minutes in this hell hole and it’s already been eighty five and you haven’t even started good-nighting these geezers yet!” doesn’t work too well. For one, it takes a long time to say, so you’re wasting valuable time and also apparently other people can hear you when you speak. I don’t know what that’s about.
Despite this bad news of mandatory attendance, there is a glimmer of holiday hope. Because you can’t go to a party without a mani/pedi/new hair cut and a full body massage. Go ahead and schedule those appointments now. They’ll go a long way to putting you in a party mood.
Ho-ho-ho,
Marinka, TMH
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The Mouthy Housewives’ First Annual Holiday Gift Guide
The Mouthy Housewives know that this holiday season is about family, tradition and togetherness.
Hahahahaha! We’re so funny, aren’t we?! Okay, let’s get serious.
The Mouthy Housewives know that this holiday season is about GIFTS, yo!
And, as always, we’re here to help! In the form of our very first Holiday Gift Guide for those very-special-someones on your list! (Our lawyers insisted that you sign some waivers before taking our recommendations on these, but pshaw! We like to live on the edge, baby!) So here we go! Gift time!
For your brother’s new wife:
"And you can always "x" out the heart if he gets on your nerves!"
For your pain in the ass co-worker:
"Get it? It's a mug and a toilet! Ha! I thought of you as soon as I saw it! Sanka?"
Toilet Bowl Mug (Affiliate link) ((So buy a couple.))
For a hostess gift:
"I'll have a whiskey SOUR, please!"
For your BFF, who may or may not be Courteney Cox:
"Apply where the sun don't shine!"
For your no-longer-affiliated-with-PETA BFF:
"I'm not a pet, dumbass, I'm a clutch!"
Christian Louboutin Anstasia Fox Fur Clutch/Pet. Only $2,345!
For Your Favorite Tea Party Member:
"Please wash me by hand. Thank you."
A Swarovski teacup. Under $700 and anti-government!
For the mom in your kid’s class who sends her kid to school with a fever:
A bacteria necklace. What’s that around your neck? STAPH, baby!
For your PTA nemesis:
A crowbar to help her get her head out of her, um, you know.
For your kid’s obnoxious friend:
A new babysitter! (Heroin & herpes cold sores not included.)
For your mother-in-law:
A sweet teddy bear! (Oops! How did all those pins get in there? Ouchie!)
For your ex’s new girlfriend:
So they know what they're kissing. Hmmm?
Bacon Lip Balm, $3.99. Their faces after they kiss: Priceless.
For your favorite reality star:
A Hidey Hole! Get inside, Kardashians! And Teen Moms! And close the lid! Good luck! Hope you can breathe! 
(Hidey hole’s resemblance to a Georgia O’Keeffe painting is completely unintentional, but totally awesome.)
For your therapist:
A comfy therapist is a happy therapist!
Freudian Slippers! $24.95 (Just deduct the cost from your next session & then tell us how that makes you feel.)
For your hot mailman:
We only wish Jack would go postal on us. Rwor! Lick my stamp, Jack! LICK MY STAMP! Oh, God, I'm being delivered!
The Postman Always Rings Twice DVD from Amazon.
For your favorite Mouthy Housewife:
What? Oh! Sorry! We thought it was the 80′s! Is this better?
Oh, who are we kidding? Get us one of each! They’re little! (Well, hopefully not too little. Oh, no, we di’int! YES, WE DID!)
Happy shopping!
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Thankfully
It’s Thanksgiving and we are feeling thankful.
We are thankful for our families and our children and our friends and our DVRs (not necessarily in that order). And we are thankful that we get to spend a portion of each day with you, trying to solve your problems, reading your comments and suggestions, laughing and crying with you.
Beyond that, we have compiled a list of what each of us is thankful for. (Besides the ability to end a sentence with a preposition, because who is going to stop us?)
Marinka is grateful for:
- The Real Housewives on Bravo. Just because they cannot see me, doesn’t mean that we are not friends.
- Starbucks half-caffs. Yes, really.
- Laura Lippman’s books. Because they are page turners and every time one comes out, I can’t wait to read it. Also, Ruth Rendell.
- My kids’ reaction to snow. Because the Eskimos may have 52 words for snow, but my kids have 53 prayers that the snow will turn into a snow day off from school. (That’s ok, I have 54 that school will remain open.)
Tonya is grateful for:
- The thick glass that separates me and my foul mouth from all of the ridiculous folks who try and jump in front of my car, even if I was driving on the sidewalk that one time. You could see me! Hello!!!
- Rap music. It keeps me gangsta, yo.
- Donuts. Do I need a reason?
Kristine is grateful for:
- Empty calories. If they’re empty, then they can’t count, right? ::guzzles eggnog latte::
- Infantile Amnesia. Could you imagine if they could remember those 3am pep-talks around month four or five of no sleep? I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure mine always included offensive language. Something along the lines of OHMYGODJUSTLETMESLEEPORIWILLDIERIGHTHEREINTHENURSERY
- Selective memory. (See above.)
- Push-up bras. Not because I NEED them, of course. They’re just so…OK FINE, I totally need them.
- Internal dialogue. Oh, wait a second. I think I just confused my Thanksgiving list with my New Year’s resolutions.
- Bladder control. (See above.)
Kelcey is thankful for:
- Botox, fillers and laser resurfacing. Maybe not yet. But soon. Very very soon.
- The fact that we live in a world where we can easily stalk ex-boyfriends online instead of showing up at their house and getting arrested.
- Kathie Lee and Hoda. Because if you can’t enjoy a glass of wine while you host a morning show, when can you?
- My four gorgeous children. Especially when they are sleeping.
- “Footloose” remakes. Oh, and the original. Okay, any opportunity to sing “Let’s Hear It For the Boy” while wearing red cowboy boots.
Wendi is thankful for:
- Barry Manilow. I can’t smile without him.
- The PTA. So different from the PITA.
- The fact that it’s not freezing in Texas during the summer. No need for pashima!
- Pedicures. Other people beautifying my toes– can’t put a price tag on that! Although $15 plus tip seems about right.
Please tell us what you’re thankful for this holiday! And have a Happy Thanksgiving!
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