September 30, 2007 3:14pm

My family is dysfunctional.

I know, I know... everyone's family is dysfunctional in some way.

The problem with mine is that nobody admits to the fact that we are a mess.

The motto of my family seems to be "act as if..."

Act as if nobody is bitter for things that happened to them 45 years ago. Act as if there is no unspoken animosity between one brother and a brother-in-law because of his drinking and occasional outbursts. Act as if we actually want to be around each other when we're really just trying to eat as quickly as possible to get back to our private, solitary lives.

I love my family. I really do. It makes me absolutely crazy to sit in the insanity of it all, though.

Those of you familiar with my Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner episodes already know some of this.

There's my mom... educated, stable, sensible, and unable to admit that there are any problems...EVER. Everything is fine. She criticizes families that do not "get along", yet she's completely blind to the fact that our own family is filled with anger and tension. I admire families that don't get along and are open about it. At least it's honest.

My uncle will never admit that he's still angry that his father left when he was 5. He will never admit that he's bitter about the way he was raised by my grandmother, and a very female-centered family. He will never admit that he feels like my grandmother always resented men and, therefore, him. He will never admit that he feels like his whole life was miserable because he was raised without the influence of a man. Instead, he makes occasional cynical remarks about his childhood....seemingly out of nowhere. "I heard that Osama has a few dozen children. Imagine being the child of someone so awful?" Well, at least they get to HAVE a father and know where he is! Don't tell me they have a tough life. I KNOW what it's like to grow up without a father. I could do the Osama-dad deal in my sleep. Sheesh!

That's a slight exaggeration, but you get the general idea.

My aunt will never admit that she is bitter that she never had children. She will never admit that she never intended to work, and always wanted the life of the good little wife and mother at home. Not being able to have children threw off that whole plan. She resents any woman who has children and is unhappy for even a moment. How dare someone be unhappy when they have something she could never have? She's angry that she has had to work all these years. She will never admit that her husband has a drinking problem. That he can't go a day without liquor. He says totally inappropriate things. He doesn't know how to behave in public. He cuts people down who have an opinion different from his (particularly me). He is extremely anxious, almost to the point of paranoia when it comes to worrying about money, politics, events, work, whatever.

God forbid anyone ever gets some therapy for their problems. I swear I'm going to have to start crushing Xanax into everyone's food when they come to my house...just to take the edge off.

Nobody will admit that these problems exist.

I try my best to deal with it.

I'm going to be having my family over to my house for our Christmas Eve Wigilia celebration this year. I look forward to the decorating and the cooking. I like putting a small gift at everyone's place setting. I enjoy doing all of this even though I know what is going to happen. If I cook something even remotely interesting or try a new recipe, it will be met with an attitude that just makes me want to vomit. I am treated like a child bringing a peanut butter and bologna sandwich to the table for everyone to share. It's as if they are saying "Oh, how cute. The little one used the stove all by herself!"

The actual comments are more like, "Oh, this is interesting. Why did you decide to make this?" or "Since when do we eat Lamb in this family?" or "Well, I'm usually not too crazy about this. It's not my favorite type of food. Why do we have to have food like this?" For the love of Fabio! I just put some capers on the salmon before baking it! You'd think I brought in jellyfish or something from Fear Factor.

Between courses (Wigilia is a 7 course meal), nobody wants to sit and relax and talk. No, no no. "Okay, let's get the next course out now!" "Let's get this going!" "Let's get this show on the road!"

As soon as dessert is done, everyone is out the door before the last person has drained their coffee cup.

Last Christmas, I put a small gift at everyone's place setting. We haven't exchanged gifts as a family for years, and a gift at everyone's setting is something that I remember having when I was a small child having Wigilia in my grandmother's house. So last Christmas Eve I hosted Wigilia myself and everyone got a mug with my school's insignia on it, and a few of those scratch-off lottery tickets in the mug. Not a very expensive item, but I thought it was a nice little surprise at everyone's place setting.

Here were some of the comments I heard"
"Oh, why did you do this?"
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"I didn't know we were exchanging gifts again!"
"I thought we weren't doing gifts anymore."

Only after all of that settled out, and after I had to explain myself for why I decided to give everyone a small gift did I hear the first "Thank you, Elizabeth."

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. This year I am going to do the same thing. Everyone will be getting a small coffee grinder (one per couple), a tablespoon coffee scoop, and a bag of my new favorite coffee, Boca Java. I'm really excited about this because I get to introduce my family to something that I really enjoy.

On the other hand, I'm really dreading the comments I might hear.
"Oh, we have soooo much coffee! I bought 10 cans of Folgers when it was on sale at Pathmark!"
"We never grind our own coffee. It's too much trouble."
"What prompted this?" what the hell does that even mean? every time I do something for my family they say this, though!
"Oh, so we have to grind our own coffee now? Guess you thought we didn't know how to make our own! Ha Ha Ha!" an attempt at sarcasm

Sigh

If anyone would like to join me for Wigilia, please come to Manasquan. I would be happy to have a few more at my table. Particularly someone who would like their own coffee grinder and kick-ass freshly roasted beans.