Fakesgiving, flight drama, and other holiday logistics nightmares

What it takes to coordinate seven decades of family chaos

If someone needs to hear something at least 10 times to retain the information, it will take until 2033 for one of my children to remember that you have to book holiday travel early and that Thanksgiving is the busiest travel time of the year. Who even knows what will happen this year with “Real World Boston’s” Sean Duffy running air traffic control instead of teaching Cyrus at the Boston Y how to competitively logroll?

I’m a planner: it’s core to my identity and sense of self and being organized and having systems is how I ground myself in times of chaos. And yet, once I married, I went from just needing to accommodate my brothers and their families every other holiday to in-laws, custody restrictions, and later the new requirements of young adults and the lives and families they’re starting on their own.

And I can do that. Not a problem. I have never been described as “flexible” or “adaptable” or “patient” before, but bringing family together to celebrate is incredibly important to me and one of the key ways that I try to honor my mother’s legacy.

It could be worse: instead of a complicated custody schedule for the holidays, Jeff’s ex had them for every holiday and we decided to start celebrating twice. Doing two full Thanksgiving dinners – one on the day and one a week before as “Fakesgiving” – as well as two “Fakesmas Eves” and two “Fakesmases.” The major perk, especially of doing Fakesgiving early, was getting a full dry run of my menu in. And it was really nice to create totally new traditions with my new family even if it doubled the number of holiday celebrations.

Our scheduling has also been facilitated by Jeff’s family celebrations being sparing/infrequent and his lack of interest in attending many of them. Some of the extended family dynamics had been made awkward for me because when we were wedding planning, Jeff only gave me names of family “who would actually come.” So on our first married Christmas, I walked into a room of cousins and uncles I’d never heard of – who only knew me as the bride who’d snubbed them. Several still blame me. It was hard to push for “equal time” with his family after that.

These days, everything has been made more difficult by ages/life stages and geography. We’re coordinating people spanning seven decades – literally everyone from 9 to 79 except anyone in their 30s. We live near my father but are cross-country flights away from my brothers and Jeff’s sister. We are navigating multiple work calendars and multiple school calendars. We end up trying to figure out the “where” of the holidays in July/August but even that involves the delicate dance of “try not to seem like I’m aggressively pushing my own agenda” but also “please please please don’t make me take a connecting flight while a ‘Real World’ alum controls the skies.”

Once we sort out the “where,” it’s time to nail down the “who” and the “when.” Getting confirmation of attendance from 20-somethings is a mildly painful exercise of me sending “friendly reminder” texts into a void and then begging their dad to send follow up texts and then being told “I’ll confirm by Monday” and then starting that routine again on Tuesday. I should say, however, that in case any of the young adults in my family are reading this, this year was timely and a model for responsiveness: no notes.

Even a “yes” and a purchased ticket isn’t a guarantee for attendance – which we learned when Middle missed his flight a few years ago on December 23rd. The year that happened we were in Santa Fe and he was coming from a small midwestern city that is DEFINITELY not a hub for frequent travel to the southwest. Despite being the travel booker and the logistics person for the family, the panicked text and calls all went to Jeff to serve as buffer.

By the time Middle arrived, nearly 24 hours and $1200 in rebooking fees later, I told myself the whole mix-up happened because he got his first bonus on the 22nd and went out partying with co-workers, which, while not great, is at least an experience I could understand. When I mentioned that to him, he was defensive that he had NOT been so irresponsible to be out drinking before a morning flight, rather, he had been playing video games until 4 AM because he knew he wouldn’t be able to for the few days he was with us. I don’t remember my face at that moment, but I know I’ve never moved a wine glass to my lips faster in an attempt to prevent verbal response.

In preparing for the holidays, I think a lot about Stephen Covey’s “circle of control” from “7 Habits of Highly Effective People.” There’s what I can control, what I can influence, and what I can’t control. This time of year is the best time to focus on what I can control and what I can influence and get really really comfortable with what I can’t impact.

The thing is, once the basics are sorted, the rest is easy. I mean, it’s not because it’s an emotional season with lots of dynamics to manage, but I can make a plan and a contingency plan and a back-up contingency plan. Not everyone will be happy, but they will get there (if they want to), they will be fed and, pending their own attitude, they’ll have a great time.

As one of the primary planners in my extended family, I have to make the most out of the few areas where I can exert control as well: like picking a rooftop steakhouse for the adults dinner out instead of the trendy Japanese place because I really don’t like sushi and surely she who makes the reservation has the biggest vote? For everything else, I’ve got a spreadsheet and a great attitude.

How are you taking control of what you can and letting go of what you can’t as we head into this holiday season?