Ex-Christmas
As promised, here is my follow-up entry to my Christmas rant. But be warned, it's personal, so much of it is likely to be made up.
Hm... on second thought, maybe I'll use a composite family and then strip it of actuality so I'm just positing a way for families to cope with Ex-Christmas realities, THROUGH another anti-Christmas rant.
As everybody knows, Christmas is so tied up with family traditions that it is fraught with childish emotions emiting forth from drunk and over-stuffed adults. If we are honest with ourselves, we can remember that children only care about presents at Christmas. My ex pointed this out to me one pre-children Christmas when his parents (we always went to his place for Christmas, my family being considered too Scottish Presbyterian to be of any use presents-wise) suggested pulling names out of a hat, you know, one present given, one received, and he held his breath until his face turned blue and stamped his feet until his parents quickly reverted the new Christmas terms back to the old Christmas terms. But, in terms of food, children would be happier with hotdogs, cake and ice cream than they are with any of the usual Christmas fodder. Yet, so caught up are they in the mayhem, that they, too, overeat to the point of, well, one of my friends at university, a woman so tightly wound that poking her with your finger - hurt your finger - said that every year she'd eat beyond her worst nightmare, THEN eat Christmas pudding - which gave her severe diarrhea. She literally shit out Christmas on Boxing Day. I thought it was quite a brilliant thing for a child to realize. That you could give in to the "C'mon, it's Christmas! Christmas comes but once a year! Santa won't bring you any presents if you don't have a big hunk of Woolco's Christmas pudding!" fascism of Christmas AND feel right back to your old spartan self by Boxing Eve.
Gosh, looking back, I used to say to my kids every Christmas Eve, "Just two more sleeps and it'll be Boxing Day kids!" They thought I was teasing. Really, I was reminding myself, "just two more sleeps, two more sleeps, two more sleeps" - then I can throw out Christmas!
Anyway, most separated and divorced parents end up feeling deprived and sad, anxious and neglectful, resentful and meanspirited at Christmas. Why? Because they become as children but with the woes of adults. That and the fact that their emotions are running even higher than usual and all the bad feelings that come with marital breakdown rise to the surface seeking a place to take a dump.
(Sorry for all the defecation talk. But that's Christmas to me. A big pile of crap.)
In my case, the opposite happened. I finally had a way of getting out of Christmas. Because, as my horse-shoe up the ass luck would have it - I married into the Christmas family. My ex-in-laws LIVE for Christmas.
It was a no-brainer. The simplest part of separation. The icing on the cake, if I'm downright honest about it. (See above disclaimer.)
The hardest part was convincing the kids that I wouldn't be lonely being by myself at Christmas. Oh. My. What kids don't get about Mothers. But I didn't want to hurt their feelings either so I said this was something we all had to do for Grandma and Grampa to help them adjust over time to the new situation. And that they would be really upset to not have their Grandchildren over Christmas. And that if they look back they'll notice that I really prefer the ordinary days to the Holidays.
They looked back. They understood. And rushed out the door to jump in the car with their Dad to head to Grandma's and Grampa's for Christmas.
Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say, "IT WAS THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!" My, oh my. All I could think of was, "How do I keep this lucky streak going?" "Will someone find out?" "What if my ex-in-laws twig that I'm having fun at Christmas - ALL BY MYSELF!" "Will my EX?!" (At this point, we could BOTH get out of Christmas. It's become that much of a tradition. The kids go to the farm - yes - Grandma and Grampa live on a farm - for a Christmas right out of the movies - but with better toys and no religion. Just fun, fun, fun.)
Meanwhile, back in merry, no-Christmas land, I have a perfect beau to share Christmas with - we don't buy each other presents, don't do anything Christmassy, just hang out enjoying everybody else's Christmas - alone - together. I know, I know. You all hate me now. I don't blame you. I get Christmas off!
So, I dunno. Depending on your priorities, if you're married, and really, really don't like Christmas, and have in-laws who really, really DO like Christmas, well, you know, I hate to sound like a home-wrecker, but... I've got to say... Merry Ex-Christmas!
