The Holiday Shuffle - 11/25/08

Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go: LITERALLY.
As you read these words, my family and I will be heading out to Central New York for Thanksgiving with my in-laws. The six hour ride to the end of the Pike and beyond gives me ample time to reflect on the evolution of what I like to call "the holiday shuffle"

When my husband and I first started dating, we each went our separate ways on major holidays (my family's in NJ). After dating for a while, I tested the waters by driving from my parents’ house after Christmas to spend a few days at his family’s home. When we moved in together it became Thanksgiving with his parents, Christmas with mine. (My parents make a big deal out of Christmas. Lots of lights, tinsel and in the words of the Grinch "all the noise noise noise NOISE!")

This worked out well until kids came along. At this point my husband thought it only fair that his parents should also witness the magic of Christmas morning with wide-eyed children squealing over presents from Santa. Much as I hated giving up Christmas with my parents, grudgingly I agreed to alternate holidays each year. Marriage is all about compromise, right?

There are pros and cons to spending the holidays with each of our families. Both houses have terribly uncomfortable beds. His parents have a separate bedroom for our kids, while we all bunk together at mine. My parents have The Dish Network and televisions in every room in the house. His parents have an "older" television (I'm being kind) with rabbit ears providing three network channels and a fuzzy local PBS station. My parents have water pressure that kicks butt. His parents have a weak mist and you risk freezing or scalding if someone so much as looks at the faucet during your shower. My parents have housecats but his parents have horses. My dad used to work in a school, but his parents own a school. They purchased my husband's old school building when it became obsolete, so my kids can run down to the gym and shoot hoops no matter what the weather.

Friends ask, "Why can't your families come spend the holidays with you?" My entire family lives within minutes of each other. Why on earth would any of them schlep here for the holidays? I'm the one who decided to move away. My husband, an only child, has just his parents, but there are horses to feed and water (you can't just scoop the litter box and leave a big bowl of kibble) and then there's that school building. It houses the post office and apparently the boiler is right out of Stephen King's "The Shining". Turn your back for a second and it'll blow sky high.

What would it be like to celebrate Thanksgiving in my own kitchen, where I can screw up my own gravy? Wouldn’t it be fun to hunt Easter eggs in our own backyard? We fantasize about waking up Christmas morning in Hanover, something we've never done. How lovely it would be to get up at our leisure, sit on our own couch, drinking our infinitely better coffee from our own mugs, watching the kids rip open their presents. Recently I suggested we try spending Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at our home, then driving to the grandparents in time for Christmas dinner. We both agreed that this would be a good compromise.

Of course we'll be doing that NEXT year (when it's his parent's turn!)
Happy Thanksgiving.