life in and around NYC is insane

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Sigh

I used to really like holidays.

Now they leave me stressed.

When Drew and I were married and the girls were little, we'd spend all of the holidays with my parents.  Drew's parents lived in Florida, so we had no need to juggle, to split our time between his family and mine.

When we divorced, the children split their holidays, spending some with me and some with him.  And it was ALWAYS contentious.
 
And now?  Now it's a delicate negotiation.

And right now I am ready to scream.  Because no one talks to me, no one tells me what's going on.
My assumption was that Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house would be in the evening, as it has been every year.  So when Drew said he wanted ti make Thanksgiving at his house at 2:00 in the afternoon,  I thought: "Great.  The girls and I can lunch at Drew's and dine at my parents'.  Works out nicely."

After all, that's what we did two years ago.  (Last year Drew was recovering from surgery to repair a hiatal hernia, so he didn't have Thanksgiving.)

(Don't suggest we have both families share dinner, too acrimonious.)

When my mother asked me, a week ago, what my plans are, that's what I told her.

Then, on Thursday night, my sister H told me:  "We're eating at 4:00 on Thanksgiving."

WHAT?

Yes, my sister decided that it would be better to eat earlier because my mother has trouble staying up past 8 or 9 these days.  And H lives here now, so she can start cooking earlier in the day since she doesn't have to drive here first.

Logical reasons.  Yet it feels like sabotage.  And yes, I know all about that kind of sabotage...

And knowing my family, despite everyone's best intentions, dinner won't be on the table at 4.  Probably closer to 6 is my guess.

Apparently this has been planned for awhile, but no one bothered to tell me.  Just call me the mushroom, kept in the dark.

And then H told me that Jen had a phone conversation with Drew two weeks ago and told him all of this.  And that he suggested dinner on Friday instead.  H heard most of the conversation because it took place in H's car -- she and Jen carpool to grad school every Wednesday.

I've barely seen Jen these past few weeks.  She's rarely home, and lately I am getting the "sullen teen" routine from my 23 year old daughter.  So all of this was news to me.


But Drew hasn't said anything either.  And that surprises me.  He tells me everything, sometimes more than I really want to know.


Especially because we have plans Friday.  Plans that he initiated.


I'm good at juggling, really I am.  But you have to give me lead time, so that I can arrange things . . .


Sigh. 


I hate holidays.

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