Jackson Free Press

I've always loved the holidays. I like the fall smells in the air, eggnog lattes and almost any dessert spiced with cinnamon. I especially adore the whiskey drinks and how no one seems to mind if you get publicly drunk between the last week in November and Jan. 1.

I would probably enjoy Christmas a lot more if I didn't have to travel to 14 different destinations to visit all the people my parents decided to marry at some point in their lives. This almost assures that when I get married, it will be the only time, and we will never, ever move. I take this whole "marrying" thing seriously. I guess that's why it took me until the age of 32 to finally do it.

I can't say the decision was really well-planned. The Man and I have been together long enough that he no longer runs screaming from family get-togethers when my grandfather decides to regale him with stories of the Koreans he killed in the war and exactly how far away his carbine was from their heads when he did this. He pretty much knows that "crazy" runs in the family and takes these scenes as indicative of the fun years our future holds when I succumb to the family "illness" and take to knitting scarves out of loose cat hair I've found around the house.

This decision to finally tie the knot came a few weeks after another decision colored by a few margaritas and the sheer giddiness brought on by the first presidential debate, which created the baby currently kicking around in my womb. Yes, we are those kinds of people. The kind of people who are perfectly happy living in sin until getting knocked up, and then decide we might as well take the plunge. We are both essentially lazy people at heart. It'll be a blessing if this child actually gets named before starting kindergarten.

My mother was so excited that the 3-pound Yorkie she bought as "Grandchild Replacement Therapy" will actually be replaced by a real baby that even the Catholic parts of her didn't tense up when I announced, in backward order: "Hey, I'm pregnant. Hey, I'm getting married! And, hey, a black man is president!" (All of these are equally statistically confounding.)

Like most of my previous holidays spent traveling to the Delta to celebrate with 60 other crazy Italians, this one will most definitely include the extra bonus of extensive conversations concerning my vagina and how it actually works. (Praise Jesus!) This has to beat last year when the bulk of the holiday was spent watching my grandfather put a birdfeeder on his head and attempt to speak Chinese while two of my aunts tried to convince me to get a boob job. Isn't that just a whole special section of Hallmark they haven't thought of, yet?

Just in case the rest of the family decides to get all up in my business regarding this whole "pregnancy and marriage thing," I've put together a list of alterative activities that will surely chap their butts just as much as me staying single for all these years:

1) I plan on telling my very conservative uncles that—boy or girl—this kid will be named "Obama." This is sure to kick off some lively holiday conversations that include words and phrases certain to be disallowed once the baby is born.

2) I plan on mocking the aforementioned 3-pound Yorkie with the fact that there will soon be a real grandchild, and he won't be the favorite anymore. I'm hoping this causes him to immediately fashion a noose from the threads of his festive holiday sweater and curse himself for all the time he will miss being perched on my mother's ample bosom and fed organic doggie treats.

3) When all the younger cousins ask the inevitable questions of "Where do babies come from?" I will inform them that babies come from margaritas, and then watch their little foreheads wrinkle in confusion.

4) I will tell my mother that instead of using the expensive baby sling she purchased, I will be sewing the baby to my hip and using its mouth to hold my extra change and car keys. I've said this a few times already, but the look on her face never gets old.

5) I plan to tell my grandfather that The Man and I desperately hope the baby is a homosexual because neither of us can decorate worth a damn and then watch his head explode all over my Aunt Diane's Christmas banana pudding.

6) Although my morning sickness is finally abating and I no longer feel like throwing myself head first into the nearest intersection, I think I can work up one good vomit for the previously mentioned aunt who spent the past 10 years repeatedly asking my mother if she thought I was ever going to get married.

I figure that these six activities should take up most of the day. The holidays can't be too horrible this year. After all, now that these important questions about me have finally been answered, we can all relax and rest assured that the world is in proper order, and I'm not going to stay single and drunk forever.

We can spend our time talking about real things—like how my cousin Blaine grows his toddlers so large and how it is my grandmother's skin gets prettier with every passing year. We can talk about how excited I am to finally be creating my own family so that one day I can put a birdfeeder on my head and tease my offspring about their small boobs. I can dress my kid in embarrassing outfits and tell stories concerning the exact time their pubic hair finally grew in. After all, there's nothing better about making a family than finally getting to pass down all the lovely traditions contained therein.

Happy Holidays, y'all!

Previous Comments

ID

141985

Comment

My Cousin Blaine immediately texted me after reading the column, "Its the Boob Juice that grows 'em that large!" He considers that a "parenting tip"

Author

Lori G

Date

2008-12-03T22:11:46-06:00

ID

141986

Comment

Congratulations!!!! I was almost in tears when I read your column today. This child will be the love of your life. I wish you and "the man" all of the happiness in the world.

Author

saint H

Date

2008-12-03T23:14:01-06:00

ID

141988

Comment

Congratulations, Lori! And for the record, the baby isn't mine!

Author

golden eagle

Date

2008-12-04T00:06:30-06:00

ID

141989

Comment

Yay, Lori! Congrats to you and The Man! Take care of yourself, you hear?

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2008-12-04T05:39:41-06:00

ID

141990

Comment

Thanks Guys! We are very happy. I spent the first twelve weeks wondering why no one tells women that being pregnant mostly means lots of vomit, naps, and actually turning STUPID. I'm getting into (what they report to be) the WONDERFUL second trimester and the first two symptoms listed above have disappeared but I fear the "stupid" might be here to stay. Last week I forgot my address.

Author

Lori G

Date

2008-12-04T08:42:13-06:00

ID

141992

Comment

Sounds like you're getting "mommy brain." LOL

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2008-12-04T08:45:00-06:00

ID

142021

Comment

I'm glad and sad. First, I thought you would continue to wait for me. That is to die and come back young again. LOL. Secondly, how do you know your sense of humor and rebelliousness won't be passed on to the baby thereby making you boring, typical and less of the star you are now. I won't even mention how your beauty will be altered or effected. We will be praying you will be the same Lori after the baby comes here and rules the world as you had before. I may end up taking on one of my granchildren to raise since both parents are crazy and irresponsible. I'm scared to do it because men are scared of committment and responsibility, so they say. Plus what if he grows up to be a Jeffrey Dahmer, Charles Mansion or worse a Kobe Bryant who cheats, gets charges filed, and then dumbly buys a 4 million dollar ring to make up with the wife. The boy must have better sense than that. A mere apology and/or twenty thousand dollar ring should have done the trick. Be sure to tape the conversation or responses from the families to the naming of the child some part of Obama's name. I'm always looking for new curse words to use. I wish you and the husband a long and fruitful life and marriage with many more children. I've been married 28 years and she hasn't left me yet. Just about to catch up with the time my parents stayed married. I'm sure the husband wishes he could carry the baby and feel the pain for you. I don't know why the Lord spared us men of this great joy, or the responsibility of getting up at night to feed and take care of the babies. Surely we want to participate in that too, and feel badly that we don't know how to change diapers and stop the baby from crying when distressed. Fortunately, you're, like every women, are blessed to know how. Tell the husband to maintain his manhood around the hoouse whether the baby is a girl or boy. If a girl don't y'all team up and try to emaculate him into washing dishes, sweeping floors, mopping floors and cooking. Sure, I do a little bit of all of these but it because I wanted or decided too; not because she asked sternly or forcefully or promises to withhold sugar from the next cake she baked. You know what I mean. Good luck, God bless y'all, and I hope there weren't any insults to women contained in my piece. LOL.

Author

Walt

Date

2008-12-04T16:27:59-06:00

ID

142023

Comment

I couldn't correct my errors. It wouldn't let me. I take it everyone is so used to my bad writing and errors that the blog rejects errorless or few errors posts from me.

Author

Walt

Date

2008-12-04T16:53:42-06:00

ID

142024

Comment

Congratulations Lori and a BIG WELCOME to the pains of pregnancy. You have made it through the most difficult part, vomiting. You and Yours seem like such a special couple. The child will experience what so many do not - being born to people who love eachother and have the capacity to share with a child. I'm now a g-mom of 5; so, I know that the replacement for the yorkie will be welcomed by your mom. LOL Isn't it kind of cool to know that many of your family members are crazy and that you can fit right in? LOL!

Author

justjess

Date

2008-12-04T17:05:07-06:00

ID

142071

Comment

Justjess-my Mom read the column and the first thing she said was, "You know what's sad? That all of that is TRUE and I bet people think that you just say some of that to be funny." Then she promptly wacked me for actually talking about how that dog sits on her boobs and gets hand fed treats most days! My family is definitely their own bag of tricks, but I wouldn't trade them for the world. Hell, the material alone.... Walt-I TRIED waiting for you...I just couldn't take it no more. :) I know you will appreciate the fact that we actually had our picture taken the night we got pregnant and The Man DID HAVE A TWINKLE IN HIS EYE. Golden Eagle-"The Man" read your post and said, "I'd hate to have to kick his ass!" :) Snort. I think we actually SAW you the night we got knocked up. Damn Hal and Mals and presidential debates!

Author

Lori G

Date

2008-12-05T23:36:59-06:00

ID

142079

Comment

Babies really DO come from margaritas, or so I have heard. Girl, you already know I am thrilled for you and the man. That baby is going to have the coolest parents! Hope y'all have a great Christmas. At least with all those Italians, you know the food is gonna be good!

Author

andi

Date

2008-12-06T22:45:14-06:00

ID

142080

Comment

THANK GOD! Because I'm horrible with secrets. HEY EVERYBODY! ONE OF MY FAVORITE FRIENDS IS GOING TO HAVE A BABY! Whew.

Author

emilyb

Date

2008-12-07T16:27:29-06:00

ID

142081

Comment

Em, I bet it just about KILLED YOU to hold that in. More power to ya. :)

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2008-12-07T17:26:25-06:00