It’s A Miracle We Even Survived; Christmas 70’s Style.

I originally wrote and shared this post in 2010. I was thinking about this post when I wrote the Santa one this past week, (and then my second Santa post!) then my friend Kari found and read it while looking for info on my brother Mark (but not in that stalker-ey way) so I’m re-blogging it because frankly, it cracked ME up and I wrote it. I recall that when I shared this, my Mom died laughing too. Just to be clear, The cancer killed her, not my witty-as-hell blog post.


My Brother and I certainly were not spoiled or even overly-attended-to children. I can’t say we were abused or neglected. But maybe there’s a version of that: Neglect Light? Unattended But Loved? Raise Yourselves, I’m tired? But it all changed when Christmas came. Along with Santa, came my Grandparents {my Dad’s parents} they loaded up their car in Miami with as many games & toys as they could fit in their trunk and back seat and spent each Christmas with Mark and I. Mind you, my parents were divorced and they chose to spend Christmas with my Mom, their ex daughter in law; they adored my Mom, Mark (of course Mark!) & I. Those few days of attention and fun were what we craved terribly.

One year I recall them opening the trunk and all I saw were two huge plastic garbage cans with lids on them. They were so clever, they knew my Mom needed new cans and inside them were all of our wrapped gifts. That takes Oscar the Grouch to another level.


My very first Christmas. I looked a little scared, but I had no idea what was to come in the future. I should have climbed back into Beverly’s lady kitchen and hunkered down because these people might be insane. And in case you’re wondering, no, we didn’t want ANY ONE else to have tinsel, we we took it all.


I must have been around 4 here. G’ma is trying to help Mark and I find our way through the bazillion gifts; I am lost, confused, and beginning to go into shock.  It looks like 12 kids live here. Also, being a NOT spoiled child, I was gifted a rescue siamese kitten this year, she’s on the rocking chair. Chrissy; oh I adored her. She was my constant companion until her untimely death 7 years later. We really can’t have nice things.

X

Please note the fire safety hazards: The brown electric heater in front of the fireplace loaded with paper, a bottle of whisky and the ashtray filled to high heaven on the coffee table. I’m certain there was a can of gas lurking under the couch. 


Mark and I Christmas Eve {Suz 6?} That is my G’pa in the background; gosh, I loved him so much. I bet you a million dollars he was playing solitaire and smoking cigarettes in one of those weird filter thingys.

Christmas Mark and Suz

Now, look at that tree above again. Is it just me or does it look like Helen Keller was in charge of the garland application?

Christmas morning: Mark has bed head and I look perfect. Probably because I didn’t sleep all night; when the adults were knee deep into the rum balls I found a liter of coke in the kitchen and consumed it. The liquid soda! I didn’t do real coke until 4th grade. KIDDING. I’m holding my doll Cindy.  Right now Cindy is in my hall closet wearing a one-shoulder nightgown and suffering from a severely bad haircut, thanks to my Brother. Pogo Sticks: because breaking your ankles should be more action packed. Check out the typewriter on the floor, it had windows 5.

Christmas Mark and Suz 2


When I got older, there were fewer gifts. Heck, I was not even allowed to open this ONE gift without performing first. I look traumatized, whose idea was this? BTW: This was in the haunted AF townhouse.

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I am guessing this is a wrapped bottle of Jim Beam.  Thanks Mom.

My how times have changed. There is no smoking, electric heaters or tinsel at our house, but my girls will each get a box of wine this year along with bedazzled/personalized shanks.

Ok, maybe it has not changed that much.

xoxo 

27 thoughts on “It’s A Miracle We Even Survived; Christmas 70’s Style.

  1. Our childhoods prepared us for at least a year of therapy.

    Also, they taught us what NOT to do when we became parents ourselves.

    Surviving Christmas? Hell, it’s a miracle we survived childhood, period.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. 16blessingsmom

    Our tree growing up was MADE of tinsel, it was a silver tree, yet we put MORE tinsel on it. We also had that exact green lazyboy rocker recliner. I enjoyed this post, a little stroll down memory lane!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. THIS BRINGS ME SO MUCH GLEE ON A MONDAY MORNING. Now I wish I had some weed. Read today’s post to appreciate that. 🙂
    Get a box of Jim Beam and do the splits. Recreate the picture. It’s like 2020 is asking you to.

    I honestly believe the Universe put you in my path to prepare me for this shitshow of a year. You and your blog have been such a blessing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I totally get your weed reference now!
      If ONLY I could do a split. Not.gonna.happen.
      So happy to have YOU in my blog life too; well, you know, it trickles over into real life. XOXO
      Wait, did you see Friday’s SECOND Santa post? I don’t think you did…and you need to.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. How I loved this post! Tinsel. Oh year, tinsel. And then we were all told that you couldn’t use it because your cat would eat it and it would wrap around its intestines! Looking at your pictures, I spy a Fisher-Price village on the floor. Loved that village! I could never do the splits, either. -Jenn

    Liked by 1 person

  5. So much in here made me laugh out loud. I’m surprised my kids didn’t come into the study and say ‘WHAT?’

    Lady Kitchen. Can’t have nice things. Helen Keller decorating the tree (we did ours last night and my kids kept calling me the tree-po-po because I wouldn’t let them set ornaments on branches without hanging them . . . it was mostly Reg). Clearly you bought up the tinsel supply for miles around. OMG – the paper on the heater. So glad you survived your childhood. You staying up all night. The splits at the end, what? Oh, and neglect-light.

    This post is gold. So dang hilarious.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. sogalthoughts

    Hello There! What a wonderful trip down memory lane! Tinsel. My husband begs me to throw tinsel at our tree every year. I haven’t done it yet. 😉 I remember cigarettes and those stand ashtrays at my grandparents house more than anything else. My granddaddy played steel guitar and had a music room where friends came to jam. We would drive into the yard on Friday evenings to spend the weekend and could see the smoke coming out the doors.

    Liked by 1 person

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