Is it bad to say that I'm okay with this? I remember growing up, I HATED family events. I would have to get dressed up, go to a family member's house or have them all come over to our house, and either be stuck sitting with the adults and my older cousins, or at the "little kids" table. I had only one relative who was near my age, my aunt, who was a bit older (and liked to make it known that she was, in fact, 19 months older than me), so I really had no one to play with or talk to. I share no common interests with my family; I'm the only liberal, none of them really like animals, and all of them are obsessed with material things and money, and talking about life successes. **Note: This is not a bash sesh, just facts** So needless to say, I dealt with my mom running about anxiously cleaning and preparing, me being told to be on my best behavior, and having to sit in an uncomfortable dress with people I had nothing in common with except for similar DNA. Family get-togethers felt more like a chore than anything--a one-upping contest at best with no prize, just self-loathing and humiliation.
*Woe is me, cue the violin.*
My husband could really care less about holidays because his family never made big deals out of them (he got big tubs full of stuff he needed at Christmas, like socks and underwear, instead of things that he wanted, like remote control cars and such) because his family didn't have much money. My family made Christmas a month long event: a marathon of anticipation and waiting, only for one or two of us three girls ending in disappointment because the other sister got something bigger and better, and my parents wasting thousands on material things that we forgot about the next day anyway. If we celebrated Christmas with our extended family, it was even worse. We were spoiled rotten brats (I feel lucky my parents tried to make us have nice holidays, but it kind of backfired with how ungrateful we were at the time) and the meaning of Thanksgiving and Christmas were long lost at a young age.
When Nate and I first met, I would start talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas plans in October, and he looked at me like I was an alien. His family usually worked on the holidays as well, so they tried to get together when they could, and if they couldn't, no big deal...it was just another day for all of them. When the actual day of Christmas rolled around, I must admit I was disappointed at the lack of show and production and no presents under our little Christmas tree (if I remember correctly, he had forgotten about it and ended up running out the day of Christmas to get me something because he saw how disappointed I was). The two following Christmases got better, with him realizing I was not used to the nonchalance and me realizing he wasn't used to my bubbly anticipation. Last year, he went out and got a HUGE tree that barely fit in our apartment and left our living room in a pine needly mess, but he was excited to show me his attempt at Christmas, which was cute.
His family made me realize the true meaning of the holidays--everyone lounging around in their sweats, watching movies, eating food, and just hanging out together. Everyone gets things they need and there's no jealousy over who got the highest priced item.
So this year, I'm looking forward to eating with my friends and their family for Thanksgiving, coming home to an exhausted husband, maybe watching a movie, and melting into bed. I don't know what Christmas holds yet this year, but I know it will be filled of laziness, love, and food, which sounds pretty perfect to me!
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