Not an ideal holiday situation but not as bad as it could be. It's not like I have until 8 pm to get the kids on a plane to their father's house 6 hours away. It's a 5 minute car ride.
And so what if we celebrate a day early? Presents are presents! And I am certain that the guy across the street who works shift work for the electric company has had to do this once or twice, and the Nurse Practitioner whose daughter and son are friends with mine has had her share of holidays observed on more convenient dates.
The point is, that you celebrate, and celebrate as a family. Our Christmas Eve tradition started when Charlotte was the only one who was married (not even my parents were anymore!) and the only one who had to try to juggle several competing family traditions and make sure everyone got a peak at Junior on his first Christmas. Our family traditions conformed to her practicalities.
And now, more or less, I ask that they conform to mine. I do not give up my children on Christmas Day by choice. It is something I have to do. It is right for the kids (and right for Lars as if anyone cares) and so so what if I hate it. I have learned to appreciate what time I do have and celebrate moments. And Charlotte and her lovely family help me enjoy them to the fullest, and celebrate joyfully, and in a way that doesn't scream "Wow, the holidays really suck for everyone now that you and Lard Ass aren't married anymore!"
And here is where we detour into the Land of Misfit Toys.
My mother will be making her brief, annual pilgrimage north for the holiday festivities, Bill in tow, their cars laden with packages, their souls laden with baggage.
She will not stay in any of our houses, though my sister and I, like Pavlovian failures, continue to offer every year. They will stay with friends I'll call the Lushes, who apparently entertain with such wild abandon that holiday celebrations in their home take on a quality on par with gravity's pull.
But, (now come on, you knew there would be one) she fully expects that in the visit that will last not a minute longer than two-and-one-half days, and will be orchestrated and choreographed more so than the Nutcracker Suite, she will be afforded a visit of some predetermined length with each of her children and her grandchildren, at a location and setting that meets criteria that not even Aretha Franklin is diva enough to request.
It is precisely at this point in our conversation where I want to hangup and enter the Witness Protection Program.
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