The Vine: August 10, 2011 Special Edition
16 August update
Happy Elvis deathiversary, everyone. These tales have been great, hilarious, and super-helpful. I’d like to hear even MORE stories from you guys, specifically about any issues you may have had around the following:
- when you started dating, like, in November: how do you straddle the line between showing you care but not showing you care TOO much
- handling different religious backgrounds and traditions at the holidays (or creating new ones)
- handling different OCD ideas about opening gifts on Eve vs. Day; when to trim the tree; how and in what order gifts are opened; etc.
- when you thought it was time to meet the fam, but he just…went home and didn’t mention it
- income disparity in a couple and how that’s handled gift-wise (or not)
- singleness at the holidays: do you like it? hate it? not care either way? feel relieved you don’t have to go to someone’s super-crowded home for five days and sleep in a twin bed?
- New Year’s: do you assume you’ll spend it together? has New Year’s (or the kissing at midnight) ever prompted the ruination of a relationship?
- more holiday breakups and hookups
- expecting a proposal on Christmas and not getting it; not expecting one, and getting one you didn’t want
Thank you so much for all the stories so far; keep those cards and letters coming!
Hello, friends! In lieu of a customary Vine today, I’m asking for your stories about holiday relationship “challenges.” I would love to hear your tales (of woe and otherwise) and to quote a bunch of you in the finished piece!
Topics I’d like to hear about:
- you just started dating and don’t know what to do about gifts — keep it cazh and impersonal, or splurge and risk getting a Groupon in return
- time to meet the in-laws…or not (the perils of meeting the fam, and when he visits them — but doesn’t invite you; when should you expect to undergo that ritual)
- one member of the couple makes way more money than the other; how do you finesse that
- out-gifting/under-gifting (i.e. you got him an engraved vintage flask and he got you Two-Buck Chuck, or vice versa)
- his gift sucked
- you get the feeling your gift sucked
- feeling “too single” around the holidays
- insecurity around New Year’s plans/standing next to a kissable candidate at midnight
- whose parents’ house do we go to
- negotiating differing religious traditions
- negotiating differing present-opening traditions (he insists on Eve, you say it’s a sacrilege)
- breaking up around the holidays
- hooking up around the holidays, or, “That’s The Last Time I Stay Late At The Office Party”
- holiday marriage proposals — and what happens when they don’t come through
Anything else I didn’t mention, feel free to add or embroider; any questions, also let me know. Keep in mind that, in order to use your story, I will need your real name, date of birth, and locational info, but you don’t have to post that, of course; just use a valid email address on your comment, and I’ll contact you directly (or the research department will). Or you can email your helliday stories straight to me for greater privacy: bunting at tomatonation dot com.
Please feel free to forward, or put me in touch with friends — thanks!
Tags: Ask The Readers happy hellidays
My husband and I met in high school and started dating shortly after the semester began. Christmas came up after a little over 3 months, and I guess I underestimated how big a deal it was to him. I gave him several CDs he had mentioned. He gave me a very nice gold necklace. To his additional credit, he was actually very excited about the CDs. I lost the necklace a few years later (the lock had been breaking slowly, and I came home one day realizing it was gone.) It wasn’t the only piece of jewelry I ever lost, so now no one gives me jewelry, which is probably better. Instead, one Christmas shortly after we had gotten married, my husband gave me a nice set of jumper cables. What’s amazing, after I stopped laughing, they actually came in very handy. Still, these days we’ve stopped giving each other holiday gifts at all. We’re on a bit of a budget, and having to shop for everyone else plus being constricted to the time frame before Dec. 25 took all the fun out of it. So instead, we’ve started a “non-holiday gift” tradition. Meaning, if I see something at one point during the year that I KNOW he’d love, I’ll get that as his NHG, and vice versa. That’s worked out well so far.
Let’s start with meeting his family for the first time after we’d been dating about 3 months when we went to spend spring break with them because he was getting his wisdon teeth pulled, and being apart for Christmas break had been miserable. His mother gave me a hug, and said “You’re beautiful! I was expecting some tall, skinny, blonde dressed all in black.” Uhm. Thanks?
Next Thanksgiving, we’d been together a whole year and moved in together and he’d already told his parents we’d eventually be getting married. His grandmother wanted to take a picture of the family, but just the family because “We don’t know who will still be around later.” I was the only non-blood relative there. Thanks for the vote of confidence! Now she sends us a card on our anniversary every year, and is really very sweet for the most part. My husband took my last name, and she sent him a letter about how I should have been proud to take their name, and how happy she was to do so.
@LaSalleUGirl Oh god, I got a crockpot for Valentine’s Day once. I thought I was the only one. Thank you for knowing my pain. (The gift I gave that same V-Day: 4 sets of tickets for his various favorite sports teams. Mm-hmm.) (We are totally broken up, thank all the gods.)
My O. Henry story: One Christmas, I was with this guy I dated on and off for years (but that’s another story…). We talked about what we each wanted, and I think did give a small list, but basically placed our orders for Christmas presents. So I got him the enormous robot toy he asked for, he gave me the silver earrings I asked for, but then we each took it upon ourselves to get another small gift that we hadn’t discussed. And we got each other the same thing! This minty, scrubby soap from Lush, that I had had in my shower and we both loved. Aw.
Which I only later realized made it kind of awkward to tell my parents, because I basically had to tell them that he was showering in my apartment. (I was actually a grownup, but still Their Baby Girl.)
All these gift stories make me so happy that my husband and I don’t exchange gifts, just the occasional card or flowers. Gifting is too much pressure!
Also, I am SO LUCKY with my in-laws. They may get on my nerves from time to time, but they have always made me feel completely welcome and like part of the family. (And my parents like them! And vice versa! Unbelievable!) I can’t even claim to have chosen them well, since I didn’t meet them until after we’d already tied the knot. ;-P
But my worst-ever family holiday story comes from my first visit to my in-laws at their home, after they had visited us previously in the U.S. We had arrived after flying overnight on a transatlantic flight, and I stayed up all day to try and adjust my body clock. Husband and I went to dinner with friends that evening, and I had a slight headache when we got home. So, OF COURSE, I wake up at 3 am with the worst migraine ever and end up vomiting into the trash can because I couldn’t even make it to the bathroom. Husband ends up driving me (dressed in robe and nightgown) to the emergency room at 6 am so that I can get shot up with narcotics and anti-nausea meds, since none of my oral medication would stay down. The docs and nurses were great, saw me quickly, took good care of me, etc. So the next time I see my in-laws is when I’m coming back in the front door at 9 am or so, dressed in my nightgown, with crazy bedhead, and moderately loopy from big-time drugs. EMBARRASSING! Bless their hearts, they never said a word about it other than to ask how I was feeling. But I do imagine they wondered for a little while whether I had some secret “problem” with drugs or something.
Just a brief note on the gift-opening aspect. We spend every Christmas eve and Christmas day at my in-laws, which is the topic of another post I don’t have time to write now. Or possibly ever. Long, long story loaded with resentment.
Anyway, we always eat breakfast Christmas morning before opening gifts. This is a “how do you want your eggs?”-style breakfast, rather than a sit down all at once and eat the various breakfast casseroles/meats. So, after my FIL & MIL have individually cooked anywhere from 14-20+ versions of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, etc., we all head to the living room (if you haven’t already been waiting for everyone else to finish eating since you were served first), where my FIL then acts as “Santa” and divides up the gifts into piles to distribute to the recipients, thus showing everyone how much swag everybody else is getting in comparison.
We then start with the youngest and work our way to the oldest with each person opening up all their gifts in front of everyone else and acknowledging the giver. Your age gets announced at least three times during the determination of who’s next-especially fun during those hallmark years ending in zero (“I can’t belive you’re 40 already!” which I guess is better than “You’re only 40?”). No one else opens a thing during your special time. Since the ages range from very young to very old, the little ones usually have a ton of toys imprisoned by those awful wire ties and the kids want each toy freed RIGHT NOW, resulting in bloodied fingers.
As the kids increase in age, their “toys” are usually more expensive, so they may have several small items rather than a truckload. Buuuuut, some are still young enough to feel like they are getting ripped off after Little Jonny has just opened 236 wrapped treasures and they have a little i-whatever box to unwrap. Then, there are the wrapping paper savers in the family who get upset if you rip or crinkle the “good” wrapping paper. As the recipient/opener, you have all eyes in the room on you evaluating every expression to see whether you like it or are surprised or whatever other reaction you are supposed to give.
It has the likeness of attending 15 bridal/baby showers all rolled into one lovely gift-opening marathon. Merry, merry!
That really wasn’t very brief, was it? Jeesh!
Re: Singleness at the holidays…
As a person in her late 20s who has yet to have a non-platonic relationship with a man, I’ve always been single at the holidays. My brother is married and has three young kids, so generally if we see them at Christmas we go to their house either the day of or the day after.
So because I’m single and childless and thus have fewer responsibilites and restrictions, I’ve become the accomodating one. I travel when and wherever I’m needed, and I basically just go along with whatever my parents need to do in regards to my brother’s family. It does wear on me at times that I never seem to get a say in what we do and that my parents’ lives seem to revolve around their grandchildren, with them and me always having to change our plans at the last minute because of them. But the little buggers are so darn cute that I don’t stay resentful very long.
I’m also really lucky in that my relatives don’t hassle me about not having a man. They could talk smack about me when I’m not around for all I know, but if I don’t have to hear it I don’t care. I’m one of only two of my generation of a large Irish Catholic family to not have been married yet, and at least my cousin has had a SO in the past unlike me. I actually like my family and enjoy the holiday get-togethers, so I don’t mind being there while single.
Oh lord, under/over-gifting, the holiday marriage proposal gone awry and the holiday break-up – I actually hit the trifecta of those scenarios that directly contributed to the demise of the relationship. About 13 years ago, my then boyfriend told me that he was “only getting me one present for my birthday & Christmas” (my birthday is 9 days before Christmas) because what he got me was “REALLY expensive and a big gift” – mind you, we’d been dating for about 2 1/2 years at that point and had occasionally talked about getting married, so I thought I was getting a ring and was duly freaked out about the ‘very nice but not nearly as extravagant as a ring’ gift I’d bought for him (a wallet & Filofax/organizer made from baseball glove leather that he’d been dropping hints about). I call my cousin who worked at one of the toniest men’s clothing stores on Fifth Avenue to make arrangements to give the BF a gift certificate to have four dress shirts custom made (he was a big, burly police officer who had a hard time finding stuff that fit well) as his Christmas present. BF tells me he doesn’t want to wait until Christmas, so we go out to dinner the Saturday before my birthday to celebrate and when we’re back at his house he tells me to close my eyes…then he instructs me open my eyes, there’s a huge box sitting at my feet. And when I remove the wrapping paper, it’s a Cuisinart Grind n’ Brew automatic coffee maker with the built in grinder & timer. Which didn’t even cost as much at ONE custom-made shirt. I hid my disappointment as best I could, and that following Monday I went to see my cousin, with my tail between my legs, to see if I could get a refund on the gift certificate (which thankfully he was able to do).
I gave BF the wallet & Filofax on Christmas Eve and I was sort of “recovering” from the let down of NOT being proposed to when he called me on Dec. 30th to tell me that he had volunteered to work on New Year’s Eve (“I know you made dinner reservations and we were supposed to go to your friend’s party, but it’s double overtime!”). I waited until the next day and showed up at his house when I knew he’d be getting ready for work, gave him the coffee maker back and told him “You should NEVER tell a 30 year old woman you’ve been dating for over 2 years that you’re getting her ‘a big gift’ when it’s an appliance” – which was when all hell broke loose: as he asked “What did you think a ‘big gift’ was?” his eyes widened and he said “Oh my God, did you think I was going to PROPOSE? I know we’ve talked about it, but I’m not ready for something like THAT!” and I still remember that horrible feeling of my face turning red, the tears streaming down my face, and wishing that the ground would swallow me whole at that very moment… and looking down at my feet and saying “Shame on me for thinking you felt the same way I did.” and walking away from him to my car.
My boyfriend and I started dating in early November. For Christmas, I gave him a dozen handkerchiefs that I’d embroidered with his initials. He regifted me a Snuggie that he’d gotten in a family gift exchange.
Fortunately, I love my Snuggie and I like handmaking things.
@Ellen: I totally feel your pain, and since mine wasn’t nearly as much pain as yours likely was I just want to send you a big hug.
Here’s my deal: I’d been dating my college boyfriend for almost 6 months by the time Christmas rolled around. I managed to be organized and got his gift to him before break – a really nice set of racing gloves (he actually was a racecar driver) and some specialty mechanic’s tool he’d been coveting. Mine “hadn’t come in yet” and I was fine with waiting until after break anyway.
So we split up to see our respective families across the country for the holidays and during the break I have a heck of a time getting a hold of him. Foreshadowing at its best.
Upon return to school the first time we get together was at his room at the fraternity and he proceeds to dump me flat. He did the whole “I’m not ready for a steady relationship” thing and I remained silent as a stone. After I finally had enough of his excuses and got up to leave he pointed to some wrapped gifts in a pile on his side table and told me they were my Christmas presents. I told him to keep them and walked out.
Best part of the story was the next day when I was doing homework with one of his friends with whom I shared a class and he asked what my ex was up to that night. When I told the friend I didn’t know because I got dumped the day before he proceeded to comfort me with a succinct, “Oh. Well, don’t feel bad. That guy’s a jerkface-jerk” and gave me a piece of chocolate to feel better. It was a Dove’s Promise and had this little gem printed inside: ‘Promise yourself more moments like this.’ Thanks a lot, you pessemistic little candy.
On gift-opening:
My family opens most of its presents on Christmas morning (though if we’re socializing with another part of the family on the Eve, we can open the presents associated with that group). We have strict Christmas morning rules, some of which were altered only when my sister and I were in our twenties and demanded to be able to consume caffeinated beverages on our own timetable.
Rule 1: No one is allowed to go downstairs before my parents are awake. (Originally, this was to allow my mother to turn on the tree lights and get her camera.)
Corollary to Rule 1: No one is allow to awaken the parents before 7:30 a.m. on pain of death.
Amended Rule 1: Fine, fine, you can go downstairs and drink coffee/tea, but you cannot look at or touch the presents in any way.
<Further Amended Rule 1: You people don’t actually live here, so no looking at the tree before you get here, I guess? And stop at Dunkin and bring us coffee on your way.
Rule 2: Presents are doled out in stages. Everyone gets one present at a time, and no new presents will be handed out until that entire round of presents has been opened.
Rule 3: Unless the present-giver is out-of-town or at least not in the house for the foreseeable future, you must wait until the present-giver is paying attention before you open his or her gift to you.
I’m sure there are more “rules-help-control-the-fun” guidelines that I’m forgetting, but I can’t think of them right now.
So, the point is, imagine that you’ve come from a family with these rules. And then you marry into a family in which Christmas-present-opening is a mass free-for-all in which screaming children tear through wrapping paper so fast that they do not know (a) what they have actually been given and (b) who gave it to them. It’s like watching sharks in chum-filled waters. I love my in-laws, but I’ve started to dread the Christmas night chaos.
I’ve been single the past few Christmases and, I must say, it makes life a heck of a lot less stressful. When you’re in a serious relationship and you have to starts bouncing around from family to family, from celebration to celebration it starts to suck the fun out of the holidays. (For me, at least). Plus, selfishly, I get to celebrate the way we did when we were kids. Having had to fight over traditions with exes, it’s nice to have the holidays look like they did when I was young. My only sister is single as well, so we get to celebrate with my parents and there just isn’t the same amount of stress about the holiday schedule conflict.
@Val and a hug right back to you, cause that guy was a jerkface-jerk for doing that! Once I had FINALLY recovered from the whole thing, I thought about all of the things I didn’t notice – or chose NOT to notice – about him (he was very immature for a 30 year old, came from a severely dysfunctional family, had a short temper that always emerged at the wrong time, etc.) and it was probably better that things ended rather than continue, but that didn’t make me any less miserable when it all happened. He called & emailed me for weeks after I broke up with him asking why things had to be over, couldn’t we just go back to the way things were, didn’t I still love him, etc.; finally one day I called him and told him he needed to leave me alone and never contact me again, because discovering he wasn’t sure he wanted to marry me was bad enough the first time and I knew my heart wouldn’t be able to bear it a second time.
Now, if you want a good laugh? That would be the Valentine’s Day about 20 years ago, when my boyfriend gave me a “value pack” of three dozen condoms. Because they were “a gift we would both enjoy!” :)
Regarding the “expecting a proposal/not getting one” question–I had been dating my then-boyfriend for 6 years when I started culinary school at age 23. He asked what I wanted for Christmas; I told him I really, really wanted a Kitchenaid stand mixer. Really, really, really. I also told him that a gift certificate to Williams-Sonoma would be great, and the only thing I asked him NOT to get me was jewelry, specifically any kind of ring, because you can’t wear jewelry other than a plain (no stones) wedding band in a commercial kitchen. Fast forward to Christmas at his parent’s house, and on top of my pile of presents was a small jewelry box from him. I thought, wow, if it’s a ring, it must be an engagement ring because I gave him a really good reason why I didn’t want jewelry. I opened it, and it was a hideously ugly lab-created-ruby monstrosity. I was crushed. It opened my eyes to the fact that he didn’t really listen to me and didn’t really support my dreams and ambitions. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and we broke up less than three months later. I never wore that ring (he took it back and got me the mixer I wanted in the first place) and he admitted that he had panicked Christmas Eve when he still hadn’t gotten me a gift and bought the first thing he saw at the store around the corner from his house. He was a toad for any number of reasons, but that’s the one that’s relevant here.
BTW, I realize that I might sound spoiled when relating this story, since I was the one with the demands re: gift-giving, but he chose the *one thing* that I had no use for and ignored the incredibly useful suggestions for things that would have made me happy and helped me professionally. Also, I just want to say that my mom now has custody of the original Kitchenaid mixer that he exchanged the hideous ring for, and I have one that she and my dad gave me for my birthday the following year. They both get used constantly and are very, very happy machines. ;)
My ex’s mother used to give us really weird random christmas gifts, like a silver and black hair scrunchie (it wasnt 1990), a box of out of date noodles and sauces – I’m not bothered about out of date noodles in my cupboard but as a gift? Was she trying to off me? Show her son that Mums cooking is best? Im no cook so wouldnt ever try to compete.
The dilemma now is how much to spend on my sisters partner now that shes started bringing him home around the holidays, he’s in his 50s and its not like they need things for the home that I can give as joint presents.
I had the ol’ thought-it-might-be-an-engagement-ring situation as well. It was our second or third Christmas together; previous years we had set a budget, so that we each spent the same amount of money. But this year, it was all “I’m not staying in the budget this year, I’m getting you one BIG present” and “oh man I can’t wait to give you this present” and “I’m so excited to give you your big present for Christmas.” I tried not to think it but I DID, I couldn’t help it, I even told my hair stylist that I was pretty sure I was getting a ring for Christmas. And then about a week before Christmas it was “I can’t wait to give you your present, I can’t wait to use it!”
Cue sadface.
But I played it cool, and tried to act really excited when I opened an enormous plasma TV. And I couldn’t even get mad because he never SAID it was going to be a ring, and he DID spend a lot of money, and it WAS a nice TV, even though I was totally satisfied with the one I already had.
So began a long string of expensive presents (that both of us can use!) because my (now) husband apparently thinks that if you spend a lot of money, that makes it a good present. I keep trying to tell him that it’s the thought that counts, but he doesn’t care and/or listen. (He also always seems to buy things that he’ll get to use, too. Which is practical I guess, but every once in a while can I get something for ME? Come on.)
The next Christmas after that, someone asked me what the best gift was that I had received that year. I thought for a moment and said, “the knitted raccoon hat that my brother got for me.” My then-boyfriend (now-husband) acted all offended. “What about the smart remote that I got for you??” Bitch, please. Sure it was expensive, and sure it simplified my remote situation, but come ON. It is no raccoon hat, I will tell you what.
[I told him years later — after we were actually engaged — what I thought the TV was going to be. He was like, “wow, that was a long time ago!” YES. YES IT WAS, MR. SLOWPOKE. It came up in conversation with my best friend the other day and she was like “man, I remember how much you really HATED that TV.”]
We keep things easy – we do not exchange gifts for any reason whatsoever. We also don’t travel for the holidays. Fortunately, both of us live nowhere near family, and air travel during holidays is asking too much. So, our families get a nice phone call on holidays and we usually see them at some other, less stressful time. Instead, we get a lovely Thanksgiving and Christmas with just the two of us, doing what we want, when we want it.
My first Christmas with my new (and now) husband, I had hinted (broadly) about a nice sapphire right-hand ring I had seen at the mall. Christmas morning I opened a huge box to find…a snowmobile suit. A big, quilted, head to toe monstrosity. I had never snowmobiled, neither had he. He must have seen the look on my face because he just started babbling about “I had to work late, so I got to the store, there was no one to help me, I thought you could wear this to cross-country ski…” which, what????
That was 31 years ago. Now I CIRCLE things in the catalog, in various price ranges, he buys something, I coo over it….no problem.
By the way, my two sons are sensitive, savvy, fabulous gift-givers. So it must skip a generation.
I was going to resist the urge to post, but then I read Anne Marie’s story about the KitchenAid …
Six or seven years ago, I was living abroad with my first husband. (You know where this is going, right?) At that time, we were living in New Zealand, and we were flat fucking broke – I couldn’t work yet because he hadn’t gotten his work visa straightened out, which meant I was lonely and miserable and super broke (we knew NO ONE before we moved. We also didn’t have a job or a place to live until after we arrived.) He had a job, but he was also really irresponsible with money, so we were in the cycle of getting-the-phone-cut-off regularly for nonpayment. The kind of broke where I had to decide if I wanted to buy conditioner, or a better quality food for the cats. (Long story about why we had cats which I won’t relate now.)
So it’s Christmas! And I am homesick, stuck in a country that’s so far away from my home that if I got any further away I would have started coming back. And we’ve agreed not to buy each other any presents, because we don’t have the money. Everything in NZ shuts down over Christmas and New Year’s, and as mentioned, we had no family and knew no one, so we used the holiday time to fight with each other and watch a lot of movies. (We were those people – the ones who rent three movies and come back six hours and 15 minutes later for another three movies. At the video store, they got to know us because we quarreled the whole time over what to rent.) So a big part of me is like, OMFG, what have I done?
Christmas morning, he surprised me with an enormous box. It was a Kitchen Aid. They cost about $800 in NZ because they’re an import product. So first, I felt like a turd because I hadn’t gotten him anything. And secondly, I was pissed because he’d spent a shitload of money we didn’t have on a fucking electrical appliance with NZ voltage and plug, thus ensuring I wouldn’t be able to use it anywhere else in the world without at least a plug adaptor and probably a step-down adapter as well. Thirdly, when he gave it to me, he said, “You haven’t made very many cookies for me lately.”
The sad thing was, in other circumstances I would have been thrilled by the gift – I really wanted a kitchen aid. (But not as much as I wanted, say, uninterrupted telephone service, or conditioner in additino to shampoo.)
So like I said, first husband.
Ooooh I have a presents’ one.
Growing up, I never really had Christmas celebrated around me. My birthday also falls in December so chances are whatever was on my wish list ends up in my hands earlier in the month.
It’s fair to say I’d be a difficult person to shop for over the season.
The summer that I got married, my sister-in-law, a hair dresser, promised to help me find a state-of-the art salon style hair dryer. I had long, waist-length hair and lots of it. Thick, unruly, wavy hair that refused to dry on its own (fact: the centre portion of my hair will remain damp from morning to night without intervention) and was permanently tangled at the ends.
My dryer that I’d had since high school was on its last legs; I kept mentioning to her how I needed a new one and every time I came close to buying one, she’d tell me that brand was garbage or she could get a better deal or it wasn’t tourmaline-infused enough (I still haven’t quite figured this bit out).
She was also my hair dresser at the time, and well, whenever I went for a cut, she’d just lightly graze the ends, not really tackling or affecting the length.
Meanwhile, the hair was driving me bonkers. I tagged along with a friend to get my hair done for a dressy end-of-year work shebang and really really hit it off with my friend’s stylist. He was young, edgy, took risks and understood that my hair needed help.
On a whim, I showed up at his salon a few days before Christmas, sat down, and declared, “Chop it off.” In one fell swoop, before I even got to process exactly what I said, he grabbed my hair with one hand, grabbed his scissors with the other and ran them through in one smooth motion, then threw down the foot-and-a-half mass on the ground. That was it, it was done. It was dramatic and really liberating.
He cut/styled the rest of it in this sweet chin-length blunt bob. It was amazing. I was in love with how it looked / felt. I could actually run my fingers through it. I left feeling light in spirits and mass. My husband barely recognized me when I met up with him later that night. My coworkers were equally lost when I saw them the next day.
That weekend, we went over to the in-laws for Christmas dinner. My mother-in-law held her breath and gulped when she saw me. My sister-in-law’s jaw dropped and she protested, “I didn’t do that!” I shrugged, figuring it was an adjustment-to-appearance thing.
When I opened my presents from them, my mother-in-law had gotten me a hair diffuser (wavy/curly hair attachment). And my sister-in-law had gotten me this expensive, state of the art hair dryer, which was semi-useless now as I had a quarter of the hair left on my head.
Moral of the story: don’t let your in-laws style your hair. I’m serious. No good can come of it.
@Kerry – That story really made me LOL! You still married the guy so he must be a true catch!
@LaSalleUGirl – “watching sharks in chum-filled waters” perfectly describes my in-laws!
My family always had “traditions” when it came to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, opening presents, etc. His family? Complete chaos!
I have some friends who met in February, and planned a first date for “next Wednesday” or whatever, and only afterward realized it was 2/14. He brought a candy necklace, which seems to me like just the right level — cute, but not a lot of effort/money. They got married a few years later.
I remembered another one RE: first husband, D. We lived in Southwest Louisiana, where it’s HOT and HUMID. (I’m currently now in Southeast Louisiana, where it’s HOT and HUMID.) My birthday is in late October. One year, I handed him a diver’s watch we’d somehow inherited, which I’d worn a lot until its crystal (bezel) got broken somehow, and said “How about you get this watch fixed for me as a birthday gift?” He argued that the damage might be more that just the bezel, which I countered with “How about you check and find out?”
So, on my birthday, he gave me an outfit – a sweater and sweater-skirt (that is, the skirt was made of the same knit as the sweater) and a muffler-type scarf. In the time I was married to him, it never, ever got cold enough to wear the outfit. I got some use out of the scarf.
Any stories out there of NOT getting invited home to meet the family — or of inviting him and having him take a Pasadena?
@Caradb…wow. I can confidently say that if I had heard the sentence “you haven’t made very many cookies for me lately”, the next day’s headlines would read something along the lines of “WIFE BLENDS HUSBAND’S FACE; SERVES AS HEADCHEESE COOKIES”.
This isn’t about me and my bf (now-husband), but rather about (pre) in-laws. We started dating in August, and that December, his mom gave me a pair of (gorgeous) hand-embroidered (by her!) pillowcases. My mom said “Well, at least they’re not His and Hers!” It definitely felt way too soon at the time, but in retrospect I think it’s just an expression of her personality (very welcoming and warm).
After we’d been dating 2 (?) years, she gave me a bathrobe (also handmade) for Christmas. That felt more appropriate, probably because of the length of time and matured seriousness of the relationship.
Back in 2005, when my boyfriend and I had been dating for over a year and a half, he informed me that he was going to Mexico with his sister and parents for New Years.
And I wasn’t. Well, that’s not fair. He didn’t say that I wasn’t going, but he didn’t invite me, either. I’d like to pretend that I was super-supportive and understanding, but realistically, I was pissed. So pissed, in fact, that I told him exactly how pissed I was.
As it turned out, my sister and I had planned a trip to Costa Rica during the first week of November and made exactly two phone calls the entire eight days we were gone–one to my parents, and one to the boyfriend. Didn’t check email or have any contact with anyone else back home.
My boyfriend picked me up from the airport, took me to a concert with a friend, and asked me if I wanted to go to Mexico with his family.
Apparently he had missed me. And in retrospect, his mother was probably concerned that she’d spend a small fortune on the trip and never see me again. Fortunately for her, she’s now my MIL.
I have a story about an invite home that starts out with major awkwardness, but has a happy ending.
I had been dating my then-boyfriend for three months. We’d been friends before we started dating, and I had left a relationship of 8 years because I fell in love with him. At around the three-month mark, he proposed and we moved in together. I didn’t want to tell my parents we are getting married because I didn’t think they’d approve of us moving so fast. We decided we’d hold off on the ring until December, and instead visit both families at Christmas to make the official announcement.
This was in late July. I called my mom to float the idea of brining my boyfriend home for Christmas, and she was horrified. She declared that they didn’t know him well enough, that it would be a logistical nightmare, what would we do about gifts, blah, blah, blah. She said it was just too soon. I asked her to think about it, and hung up feeling cross.
The next day, the boyfriend and I went on a celebratory “yay-we’re-secretly-engaged” vacation, on which I got pregnant. It was a huge shock, but since we knew we both wanted kids, we were also pretty elated by this turn of events. Needless to say, both sets of parents were also shocked (and initially dismayed), but it’s amazing how quickly seeing your child happily partnered with your first grandchild on the way will shift someone’s perspective.
We ended up having a huge Christmas at my parents’ house, with his parents, while I sat there, five months pregnant and glowing. In the middle of dinner, I asked: “Hey, Ma. Remember when you didn’t think you wanted [Fiance] to come to Christmas because you didn’t know him well enough? Doesn’t that seem funny now?” My mother threw a dinner roll at me.
We were married the following winter, and our son was part of the wedding party.
It’s not really for the holidays at all, but after my now husband and I had been dating for 3 months – in California where we live he offered to buy me a plane ticket to go with him to visit his entire family. In Australia.
I laughed, looked sick and said no.
Looking back I regret not going because we’ve planned two additional trips to visit his family and I manage to break my leg a month before each trip is set to go. So I’ve never met my in laws.
On a positive note that does simplify the “what are we doing for the holidays” discussion. He’s happy to celebrate my favorite way. Ditch everyone and go snowboarding with no lines.
The first time I went to met my bf’s parents, we had gotten to the house a couple hours before them, went on wave runners, and then were drinking beers on the deck by the lake. It was like around five o clock, and I was in a somewhat slutty bikini, because I hadn’t seen the bf for awhile (Long Distance relationship) and why not. So his parents pull in to the garage, and we walk outside down to meet them
As we’re walking down the stairs, the dialougue goes like this. And I’m pretty nervous about meeting his parents and want to make a good impression
Me: I still have my beer in my hand, i’m going to go back to the deck and return it so your parents won’t thing I’m an alcoholic
Bf: Actually can you grab mine, so the first impression they get of you is you doublefisiting
Me: FUCK YOU!
Bf: Oh, I forgot to tell you, my parents really don’t like swearing
Me: Do you think they heard that?
Bf: I’m sure they did
So his parents first impression of me was walking down in a slutty bathing suit, beer in my hand, curisng at their son. Luckily we bonded later over several games of drunken SORRY! But, not my finest moment
My family (myself, parents, three brothers, and their wives and kids) solved the where-do-we-spend-the-holidays? problem years ago and have stuck to it ever since. For me and my parents, it was never an issue; we stay put and have Christmas together. But with three sets of in-laws for my brothers to deal with, as well as two of them not living in the same area as me and my parents, it’s not so easy.
So years ago we decided that our big family holiday would be New Year’s Day. (The bonus is that my dad and brothers love football, so they get to watch sports together all day.) My brothers and their families get to figure out whatever they’re going to do on Christmas, but there’s a standing invitation for everyone to get together on New Year’s Day, which is when we all open presents. Not only are there no hurt feelings about who’s spending Christmas with whose family, but we all get two present-opening days.
@Cara dB: Like Jen S. 1.0, I admire your self-command. I was sure there would be an epilogue to your story, describing how your ex now walks like a duck, on account the KitchenAid flat beater attachment you wedged up his hinder end. With your foot. “You haven’t made very many cookies for me lately”? Holy moly!
I met my future father-in-law through the closed door of the bathroom where his son & I were showering together…
I wonder if I should be feeling bad now; I’ve put up two posts in this thread about my former husband, and yesterday I learned that he and his current wife are breaking up! Can I pretend it’s because he gave her crappy gifts?
@Isis Uptown, pretend away! Have a tea party with your stuffed animals during which you gossip in breathy, squealy tones about the breakup and the vacumn cleaner repair coupon he got her for Christmas, and how that woulda been the last straw for you, but you heard at the mall when you were getting a pedi that the real breaking point was when he bought her a KitchenAid blender at a garage sale that only worked on the “high” setting and most of the attachements were lost, and then said “you haven’t made many cookies for me lately” on Valentine’s day.
Do this with the door closed and don’t post it on YouTube and you’re golden.
…Except please post it on YouTube.
Jen S 1.0 and Sars:
I will note that D and I broke up 16 years ago, and he’s been married to my son’s stepmother almost 13 years ago. (I’ll also note that I am married to an excellent fellow, going on four years.) Their children, two pre-teen girls, are currently with him while his wife is looking for an apartment in their school district, which indicates he is a different kind of parent than when he and I broke up.
But, yeah, I’m going to imagine that he gave her one too many impractical outfits or bought her movies she hates on Blu-Ray. She’s really tall, and very no-nonsense, so I imagine her looking him straight in the eye and saying “D, I told you I hate this f**kin’ movie, and I am never gonna wear this stupid pink dress.”
But I’ll also imagine him really listening to his daughters and doing his best to be a good father.
Every Christmas morning since 1973, I’ve awakened in my parent’s house (now Mom’s since Dad passed in 02). I don’t remember going to sleep on Christmas Eve anywhere else in my life.
Mom got remarried Saturday; he’s a good man, he treats her well, and they have fun together, but they’re both selling their houses (he lost his spouse, too), and buying a new place. Some place I probably won’t be waking up in this December 25, but driving to in the late morning for dinner sometime around one, and presents after. At least there better be presents after, they’re not switching to a Christmas Eve gifting scenario at this point in my life.
Anyhow, I’m glad she’s married again, and happy, but I’m being selfish and thinking of missing that old house I grew up in, and those holiday mornings and meals in the kitchen, and it’s hard.
I’ve been pretty close to my mom my entire life, but I when I entered my early 20’s we started to grow a bit more distant. No fights, nothing major, but I was working 2 jobs to make ends meet and had less time to go home to visit, and less energy to talk to her on the phone. So when Christmas rolled around, I was really excited to go home for the holidays and catch up. My stepfather’s estranged daughter was going to be visiting as well, which I was looking forward to as I the few times I’d met her I’d really liked her.
Well I guess my parents didn’t know what to get Stepsister (since they really didn’t know her either), but they ALSO didn’t want her to feel like a third wheel at our family Christmas, so…they got the two of us the same presents. The EXACT same presents. Now, I’m not a materialistic person, and I’ve received many low-cost gifts from my mom over the years that I’ve loved. I always say it’s the thought that counts, but there was no THOUGHT put into these presents. We both received: a journal (I haven’t written in one since I was 10), a bucket of popcorn, a rope of red licorice, and a terrible smelling candle (it gave me such a headache just being in the room I had to later throw it out). It wasn’t a case of lack of funding either (which I could understand), because my stepdad got my mom not one but two diamond necklaces. Later that evening after Stepdaughter left for her mom’s house, my mom came up to me and said “I have one more present for you – I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of Stepdaughter”. Relief washed over me, finally, a personalized gift just for me! I opened the gift she got me, only to see it was a book by Dr. Laura titled “10 Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives”. I was in shock. I HATE Dr. Laura, which I’ve never been shy about hiding from my mom. But she had no idea what to get me since I had been so long since we’ve talked, so she just got me what she wanted. I burst into tears and left the room.
That Christmas taught me the same lesson that so many here have learned: make a list, seriously. Also, keep in touch with family members. You better believe I make more time to talk to my mom on the phone these days!
I married a very dear, sweet man. I had met his parents once before the wedding (turns out they weren’t able to come up from FLAH-rida for the August wedding, due to health issues, which was sad). I had never met his 2 brothers and their families. They were the only people he invited.
Granted it was a small wedding (28 people total). He chose my sister’s husband to be his best man. So in that sense, we didn’t have to wait for his kin to arrive.
(sidenote: instead of the flowers I ordered, the florist dropped off something between a funeral wreath and what you get at the winners circle. So I was a bit…edgy)
But I thought it was important to have them there for him for that day, so the officiant indulged us.
And we waited. Time passed. It was August, and really, really humid. We hung out with my fam. Hubby’s fam arrived over 2 hours late. And once they got there, they just had to go change into their outfits. Go ahead and ask what kept them so long, and why there was no cellphone call until they were 20 minutes away… Ask. I dare ya….
Youngest son of eldest brother (a kid who I really felt might enjoy pouring gasoline on small animals and setting them aflame –eeesch!) forgot to put shoes on. So they had to stop (at a big box store to get in and out and on the road again? of course not) at a tony mall more than halfway between them and us. And “while **** was in there, we wanted to see if there were any cute deals…” I am not making that up.
Never mind that younger brother’s wife asked my dad’s girlfriend, “I didn’t even know there was trouble with (husband’s ex). Did they get a divorce?” My dad’s gf is very gracious and answered accordingly. Or that both sister’s in law complained that my husband’s kids and theirs hardly have had a relationship over the past few years, as if that were MY fault.
Seriously never mind all that. We are married, and happily so. I get to spend the rest of my life with this dear, sweet guy. Which makes that one day of serious tsoris/agita worth it!
I’ve been reading you for years, Sars. You even answered a Vine for me once, suggesting that if my boyfriend was that batshit over me watching a little t.v…we might not be compatible. Right you were.
So here I am, back where I call home, upstate NY, and feeling…rather good.
Worst Thanksgiving EVER: My boyfriend and I decided to split the holidays – Thanksgiving with his family, Christmas with mine. Now, color me jaded, as my mother and father are both incredible cooks. Their cornbread and sausage stuffing will make you see God. Mashed potatoes baked with a layer of mozzarella. Pecan and brown sugar yams. Fresh biscuits. Grilled asparagus. My own chocolate pecan tart. A glorious table of deliciousness.
Now, I got along well with my Ex’s Parents. Good people and always lovely to me. So I thought, how bad can Thanksgiving be? Ahem. Let me share.
We slept at the Ex’s Grandma’s house, on a bed that was, seriously, 40 years old. So I went into Thanksgiving Day a bit crabby. I learned when we got there that Thanksgiving dinner would be served at noon, because that’s the way Grandma likes it. Fine. I can roll with it. About 20 of the Ex’s relatives were there. Everything but the turkey came from a can or a box. Everything was served buffet style out of Tupperware. Even that? Fine. I’m no snob — I love some Kraft mac and cheese — and a bad meal is just a bad meal.
But NO ONE SPOKE TO ME. The ENTIRE day. His Dad was watching the game, his Mom was in the kitchen, and the rest of the family acted like I wasn’t there. I engaged, really and truly. Questions and smiles and “so, you’re in school?”…and they would not speak. They talked to the Ex a bit, and to each other…but I was just not there.
It was so strange – very dreamlike. After eight hours of being ignored, I went upstairs and called my family back home just to talk for a while. They passed the phone around, teased me about the delicious food, and reminded me that somewhere there were people who knew my name.
When I get a little weirded out about being single again, I just remember that Thanksgiving. I spend my holidays now with the VERY VOCAL, very welcoming, family and friends I love. Selfishly, uncompromisingly, with all the people I care about in the world. It’s the (very big) upside of being single.
Steve and I have been together for seven years, and during that time we have lived 6 hours from home. He’s from my hometown, but he moved to my city after a year of long distance dating. He grew up two minutes from me, but we didn’t meet until we were in our 20s. It’s very much like the fake couples at the end of When Harry Met Sally.
My mom is very traditional. We decided the first Christmas home that Steve would stay at his parents’ and I would stay at mine. Steve didn’t mind as his mom is also very traditional.
When I arrived at my mom’s without Steve my mom immediately asked, “Where is Steve?”
I said, “He’s staying with his parents.”
With tears in her eyes, my mother hugged me and said, “Oh . . . ”
It turns out my mom, who at the time was in her mid-60s, had spent weeks trying to accept that her daughter was going to be under her roof laying in sin with her boyfriend. She got emotional because she realized that some of her values had rubbed off on me.
Forget that we were living in sin for months, at least we weren’t doing it in her house.
The first Christmas my ex and I were married we did a gift exchange at my parent’s house. Dad is a Christmas Eve shopper and he even buys for the dog: that first year he forgot to buy for his new son-law. The Christmas after that we just drew names. Still do.
A good friend from college was going to visit his parents in Florida for Christmas. Since he still lived in our college town, but was flying out of the city where I lived, I invited him to leave his car at my place so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking while he was gone. So he came, we hung out for a while and I took him to the airport. His return flight was on New Year’s Eve. Our school’s football team was playing in a bowl game that night, and I had a few parties to go to, so we agreed we would watch the football game and then go out.
We did all of those things, went to a party with another friend, got pretty drunk, smooched at midnight (just a peck), went to another party, and then after we got home, I was showing him around the place. “You could sleep on this couch, or on that couch, or on the futon downstairs, or in my bed…” So, we ended up sleeping together, and started dating long distance a couple of days later. We were married 2.5 years after that. As far as most of the world knows, we kissed at midnight and that’s when we decided to start dating. It’s close enough to the truth and doesn’t mention the 4 a.m. condom run.
Later that year, on our way to his aunt and uncle’s house for Thanksgiving, we stopped for the night at his brother’s house halfway between. There was a terrible storm and I spun out on some black ice, crashed my car, and we had to get a ride back to my parents’ house with my aunt, who was heading the opposite direction for Thanksgiving with my parents.
AND, that Christmas, we went to my extended family for Christmas Eve, then were going home on Christmas Day. Instead of staying for yummy brunch and lounging time, he wanted to get out the door so we could stop and visit his mom’s cousins in the same mid-way in-between town. This would work out great – we could have dinner with them and then spend the night at his brother’s house, even though he would be gone at a football game. The only problem is, my SO hadn’t said anything to his mom’s cousins about us coming there. We showed up at their house, and they were happy to sit and visit for a few minutes, but they were on their way to their granddaughter’s birthday party (to which, by their silence, we were NOT invited). We left. Got in the car and looked at each other, now STARVING in the early evening on Christmas Day, in a small town. We ended up finding an open gas station and we had Totinos Party Pizza and a 6 pack for Christmas dinner. It was awesome.
Oh, and the next year, his parents were back living near my family half the year, so we went to their house for Christmas dinner. They were heading back to Florida the next day, so dinner consisted of some wretched chicken enchiladas into which they had thrown everything they wanted to “use up” before they left. It was made quite clear that we weren’t worth making an actual holiday meal for. Still irks me.
Sorry for the novel!
I have never laughed as hard as I did reading many of these stories!
Okay, I am 35 and single. Pretty happily single at that. I have never had the occasion to take a SO home for the holidays since I have had virtually no long-term relationships. That being said, since I have issues with my own family, I would have problems bringing someone else into it without a lot of prep. Just to give you an idea, when asked why my family doesn’t have reunions (I live in TX where they seem to be horribly common), I generally reply, “Oh, we don’t like to involve the Police that way.” Now, people that don’t know me think I am kidding. And the people that know me, know enough not to ask such a question.
That being said, I do get along very well with my Mom and am planning on spending the X-mas holidays in St. Louis with her. I may even see my brother while I am there. Due to practicalities, I am slated to fly back 12/31. Of course my Mom has to mention, “Oh it’s too bad that you can’t spend New Year’s here!”
Now, I have never been a fan of New Year’s Eve. It seems as though people either use the day for an excuse to get plastered, or make you feel as though everything you have done in the past year was not good enough compared to their promotion/engagement/marriage/baby birth/divorce/whatever. Add in the dreaded “Am I getting kissed at midnight?” question and you have a holiday made to make single people miserable and fully aware of their singlehood. I have absolutely no desire to spend the holiday with my now-divorced mother and her new friends at a party where I might know two or three people if my brother and his partner show up. So I told her that it was a cost issue, but you really think she would have picked up on the fact that I dislike New Year’s after all these years.
I do have one family X-mas story to tell, though. It only involves me peripherally, really. My step-father (Aba) has a very large family. He also has an extremely large step-family. He generally spends the holidays with the step-family. His Step-Mother, E, loves to have all of the children and grandchildren at her home. She is on a budget like the rest of us, though, so over time, it has evolved that the adults participate in a gift exchange where we each bring one gift and then draw numbers. Only the grandchildren and great grandchildren get individual gifts because most of them are young.
What made me mad when I went and made it so I didn’t go again after the first few times was this: All of the biological grandchildren get a small gift, often handmade, even after going away to college (presumably adults by now). The step-grandchildren don’t get individual gifts. Now, I have heard her excuse this by saying, “Well, I spend more time with them and know what they want.” So a $10 giftcard is apparently out of the question for the step-grandhildren. I wouldn’t have bothered me as much if the lines were not so very obviously drawn. Some of the grandchildren were still getting gifts from her even after they left college and participated in the gift exchange. I am very sure it has a lot less to do with money and a lot more to do with who she truly feels is family.