Home > Christmas, grandmothers > The Christmas clusterfuck

The Christmas clusterfuck

We’ve finally gotten the bare outlines of the holiday schedule down. It only took a month.

My original plan — to make everyone come to us, and then go down to Conn. for The Child’s birthday — has actually come to pass, for the most part. We will have to travel to Conn. the week of Christmas but only for one day and we’re seeing only one branch. What’s more, I’ve arbitrarily moved the Child’s birthday back from very early January to very late January.

The family’s original plan involved us staying for three days, hauling our collective asses criss-cross the state, going home for three days, and then coming back down again to do it all over again for her birthday.

My biggest coup de grac was declaring that rather than doing multiple birthday parties (which would require driving all over hell and gone), I would piss off all my in-laws by having my mother throw the party. The Husband’s family is unhappy about my mother’s allegedly “preferred” status (HA!) but they are all equally unhappy which is about all I can hope for. Basically, my solution works very well on a logical level. Mom has plenty of space, it’s both child and wheelchair friendly, and no one will have to go to the house of someone they divorced.

“We got a divorce so we wouldn’t have to spend holidays with these people,” said my step mother in law, once. Which is classic Baby Boomer self-centered bullshit. I mean, yes, that’s why they got divorced. But did they think what that would mean to kids? Even as adults, The Husband and I had to negotiate complicated unspoken rules for every holiday. As a child of an intact very nuclear family (my brother lives less than two miles from my folks), it was strange and difficult for me but I was game because I was young and willing to drive five hours a day on any given holiday.

But now that I have my own kids, I’m not playing that game.  My mother-in-law declared that she refused to come up on the same day at my father-in-law. “I’m not being difficult,” she justified, shoveling the shit so deep that I was surprised we could breathe. “I just had surgery and I don’t want to deal with too many people.” Snort. Sure. Right.

Anyway, after her declaration, we decided that that meant that my father-in-law got first pick of days to visit. She wasn’t thrilled with that but didn’t say anything. Which is all I can hope for I guess.

At least, after our marathon Thanksgiving, no one is declaring that we’re horrible people for not visiting the Ancients (my horribly unkind nickname for all four! of The Husband’s still living grandparents). None of them are in good health and for the past two years we heard every time we skipped one of their houses, “Well, this could be the last (Thanksgiving, Easter, Fourth of July, Arbor Day, whatever) for your grandparents. It would be a shame if they didn’t get to see their only great granddaughter one last time.”

Nothing like some guilt for the holidays.

Categories: Christmas, grandmothers
  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: