Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Blended Families Can Survive the Holidays (without Calling the Cops)

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crazy-christmas

The holiday season is here! If you’re in a blended family, that fact could cause your eyes to twitch and your beleaguered intestines to threaten explosive diarrhea because you barely got over the stress from last year’s drama. But with coordinated logistics and bribes, combined families can learn how to survive without a food fight, bloodletting, or lawsuits. Just keep the wine and the children breathing.

Even with careful preparation, sometimes the best plans get burned along with the roast. It’s tempting to go over the river and through the woods to Grandma’s house and then keep on going just to avoid all the trite platitudes and impossible expectations about the holidays. Forget Rockwell’s famous portrait because most grandmothers don’t wear white aprons after fixing a messy meal, and there’s a good chance that this year they’ll introduce their new boyfriends instead of picture-perfect platters of browned Butterballs. And Martha Stewart is not coming over, so forget the hand-painted placemats and pilgrim-shaped gelatin molds.

Blended families add chaos to the holidays, and designing a stress-free schedule requires maximum organizational skills, saintly tolerance, and nimble flexibility so plan now for the possible scenarios. You could be standing in the buffet line next to your ex-spouse, your stepson may demand to bring his mother and her new boyfriend to your home for brunch, or your son’s stepdaughters might want to stay at their father’s place because you don’t have cable television. You may accidentally call your son’s new girlfriend by his ex-wife’s name as you see someone’s boisterous toddler climbing onto the fireplace mantel.

It’s all fun and games until Grandma throws down her cane and demands to know who all the people are coming and going.

The best situations involve divorced parents who can cooperate and negotiate holiday schedules as they decide custody issues involving their children. We all know mean-spirited, immature parents who refuse to compromise, and that only hurts their children. These parents should receive nothing but coal in their stockings, and they should start saving money for their children’s future therapy sessions.

My husband and I each have two adult children from previous marriages. My daughter married a man who already had a daughter, and then they had two more daughters. My son married a woman with two girls, and they had another baby. My ex-husband lives in the area and is included in family birthdays and other events. Somehow it all works, and no one has threatened anyone with a weapon, so far.

Our family tree could be in danger of falling over because the branches are laden with sporadic offshoots, new in-laws, old stepparents, and assorted children who share multiple homes. But because of extra care, these roots are strong, and our tree can hold the chaotic collection of yours, mine, ours, various ex-spouses, and a few confused grandparents.

During the holiday season, we welcome everyone into the family, and for a splendid moment in time we’re all singing Fa La La before someone falls into the Christmas tree, a kid rips off the head of a cousin’s new Barbie, or the dog barfs in the kitchen.

There are 14 Christmas stockings hanging over the mantel, and we’ll need to build another one if any more members join the family. I’m uncomfortable with the label “step-grandchild” so I’ll just call all of them my grandkids. They don’t mind, and some of those lucky kids have four sets of doting grandparents. Score!

Here are four final suggestions for surviving the holidays with a blended family:

  • Have a sense of humor because it’s better to laugh at the commotion instead of breaking something.
  • Take plenty of photographs to identify everyone because Grandma is still baffled.
  • Assign responsibilities and anticipate problems when Uncle Bud gets drunk, the baby swallows a turkey leg, or Grandpa starts snoring during dinner.
  • Make time to appreciate the creative collection of characters in your unique family, believing that each one adds a definite spice. In the spirit of the holidays, choose to make it work.

Finally, reduce the stressful requirements and use prepared gravy mixes, boxed stuffing, and leftover Halloween napkins. If people object, they can host next year.

I’ll Take Turkey Over Tofu, Thank You!

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Roast stuffed chicken with vegetables

Thanksgiving is next week and I’m not flummoxed about what to fix. I’m a true admirer of tradition, so I’ll stuff a fresh turkey with dressing that contains only bread cubes, celery, butter, water chestnuts and fresh herbs and spices. I’ll baste it with more butter as it roasts in the oven, and then I’ll be profoundly thankful to share and eat it.

House thanksgiving 2013

I’m not a huge fan of creative changes to standards recipes. Feel free to enjoy baked tofu and cauliflower, but I’ll choose the real mashed potatoes, thank you. Bon Appétit‘s website, always offers alterations to traditional holiday dishes. A current article includes recipes for cranberry wasabi (nope) and a red wine gravy reduction over a popular green bean recipe (double nope). My only wine reduction will come from my glass into my mouth.

I admire people who can concoct tantalizing new dishes and incorporate different ingredients to create new, delicious recipes. I’ll even try some vegetarian, gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, low-carb, non-alcoholic and low-fat meals, but please don’t criticize me when I finish my customary Thanksgiving feast with a platter of warm pecan pie with soft ice cream and a glass of wine. I just want to remain true to my heritage.

For Christmas Eve, I always prepare prime rib, rubbed with curry, fresh garlic, ginger and course black pepper. I serve it with poppy seed potatoes, as I have for the past 20 years. There won’t be any deviations from these two recipes, but others are welcome to bring something new and fancy. We’ll enjoy every bite.

I get a bit emotional around the holidays when my family comes together for meals, and this year we’ll have an empty chair at the table. But there will be commotion at the kid’s table, and the adults will vie for the last turkey leg. It’s traditional.

Teens Shouldn’t Trick-or-Treat

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halloween ugly doll

Get your ugly face off my doorstep. I promise not to come to your house and grab your goodies; unless you have M&Ms with peanuts. Then we can barter. But for now, go away because it’s not fun anymore. If you’re over 12 and don’t have special needs, this crusty curmudgeon is saying “Get off my lawn!”

This Halloween, I choose not to be assaulted by marauding packs of greedy teenagers who terrorize the neighborhood and think I owe them free candy to stuff into their dirty pillowcases. Why do they assume it’s their right to seize a holiday meant for cute little children dressed as pirates, ghosts, and witches? Here’s my trick for the teenage treaters: no candy for you.

The last few years have changed my participation in the holiday. My children are grown and have their own kids. I enjoy seeing their cute costumes, but I no longer welcome masked strangers to my home. The festivities were ruined when drivers from outside the area brought cars full of real monsters who swarmed through the neighborhood, repeatedly rang doorbells, grabbed all the treats, complained if the candy bars were too small, and smashed the jack-o-lanterns on their way out. I think if you can drive a vehicle, you’re too old to trick-or-treat.

The gangs of gangling candy-grabbers didn’t even wear costumes, but maybe that was a good thing. The costumes I’ve seen in the stores resemble miniature pole-dance outfits for toddler sluts or bloody murder victims so frightening they cause me to experience a psychotic episode. The party store managers don’t approve of my actions when I curl into a fetal position on the floor and scream, “Make it go away!”

adam emily halloween 1982

Halloween used to be fun. When my kids were pre-school age, they chose Halloween costumes from clothes we already owned. My son wore his calico shirt and vest with his dad’s cowboy hat. A moustache painted with an eyebrow pencil completed his outfit. My daughter wore my old dance dress with her own leggings. Both were excited as we walked around the neighborhood and collected treats from families we knew.

We returned home to answer the door, marvel at the cute homemade outfits, and give treats to children from the surrounding area. I allowed my kids a few pieces and sent them to bed. After they were asleep, I inspected their treasures and removed all the M&M Peanut candies for myself. I only was concerned about too much sugar rotting their teeth. Years later they told me they knew about my theft, but didn’t care. Obviously, I raised outstanding children

One year, I made the mistake of reading how to make homemade costumes. This was before the soul-crushing examples on Pinterest. I stayed up all night sewing a Holly Hobby outfit, complete with pinafore and bonnet. This labor of love was worn once, so I learned to be wiser with future costumes and encouraged them to express their imagination by creating their own costumes from whatever they owned. We also stopped the commercialized door-to-door begging when the children were around eight years old. Instead of prowling the streets for stale candy leftover from previous holidays, I purchased some candy for them, organized a party at home, and they were happy.

elaine luciya halloween 2009

It’s fun to see little ones all dressed up, and I endorse creative play that sparks imagination. This Halloween, we’ll take photos of the grandkids and give them cards and small gifts. The evening will end at home with the lights out and the doors locked. Think of all the teeth we’ll save.

 

(Featured on The Huffington Post 50 on Oct. 31, 2015)

 

Published Today on HuffPo and Midlife Boulevard

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Two of my essays were published today on two wonderful sites: Huffington Post and Midlife Boulevard:

 

The Day I Totally Nailed It

On Midlife Boulevard, I tell the true but agonizing tale of the time my toenails plopped into my soup at an exclusive private club.

toes in water

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elaine-ambrose/candy-trains_b_6276154.html

 

On Huffington Post 50, I describe our 30-year-old family tradition of making candy trains.

candy trains e and a

Six Silly Thanksgiving Memories of Mom

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mom pumpkin

My mother died on November 1, so this is our first Thanksgiving without her. To make the occasion less painful, I’ve decided to think of funny things she used to do before dementia took her away. For space constraints, the long list has been pruned to only six memories.

  1. Turkey pudding. My mother overcooked the Thanksgiving turkey for two days. For some reason, she thought she was a pilgrim doing a slow-roast over a pit behind the covered wagon so she set the bird in the oven before midnight on low heat and basted it every hour. As a result, she was tired by dinner the next day and the turkey had lost all its shape as the butterball morphed into turkey pudding hanging off the carcass.
  2. Sinking the gravy boat. Because the turkey took all the space in the oven, she cooked the green bean casserole, the potatoes, the gravy, and the stuffing on the stove – all at the same time. She wrapped bread rolls in tin foil and stuffed them around the turkey until they hardened into crusty dough balls. When the gravy was thick enough to stand on its own without a pan, it was time to eat.
  3. Death by sugar. Mom thought there should be a dessert per person. If a dozen guests were coming for dinner, there would be at least four pies, four cakes, and four platters of fudge. Pants and belts were adjusted accordingly.
  4. Cutest cook ever. She required real whipped cream on the pies, so she would aggressively operate her trusty hand mixer like a frantic high-speed drill until the cream was two seconds shy of becoming real butter. She wore a festive, handmade apron over her best holiday sweatshirt, so she resembled a jolly, plump elf scurrying about the kitchen.
  5. Pilfering the pie. My mom loved my aunt’s sweet potato pie and assumed it was a healthy dish because it used a vegetable, despite the butter, brown sugar, pecans, and marshmallow sauce. She would sneak a bowl for herself and hide it behind the pickles in the back of the refrigerator. She later grinned with delight about her sneaky accomplishment.
  6. Her signature dishes. Like a dutiful drill sergeant, she organized the girls and women-folk to hand-wash all the dishes after the meal while the men meandered to the living room to pat their bellies and watch football. She took great pride in dividing leftovers into equal portions and filling Tupperware containers and Corningware dishes for guests to take home. To insure her items were identified and returned, she used fingernail polish to paint her initials on all the containers. I now have stacks of dishes sporting faded red initials “LA.”

This Thanksgiving, the family will come together to toast the holiday and give thanks for our abundant blessings. Some things will remain the same: commotion will come from the children’s table, the men will wrestle for the last turkey leg, and I will declare that red wine goes with turkey – and everything else. The most noticeable difference will be the empty chair at the table. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. Maybe I’ll sneak a bowl of sweet potatoes for you. Thanks for the funny memories.