Christmas is not for sissies - you have to be tough to survive the annual festival of over-priced gifts, turkey leftovers and barely concealed resentments. A snap poll in my office (we’re a mixed bag of races, religions, ages and sexual orientations) revealed a deep well of anxiety about Christmas.
Tumi’s parents and in-laws live 400km away from each other and each year he and his wife are caught between a rock and hard place when choosing where to spend the Big Day: they please one set, but earn months of sulking from the other. Even if your parents live in the same city, you’re going to feel obliged to rush between them, leaving you frazzled and irritated. This, of course, assumes you haven’t tried the equivalent of ending the Gaza blockade for a day and invited the whole lot to be together!
When one colleague said she wishes she could take a pill over Christmas and wake up in January, I knew I was dealing with some deep stuff. Palesa (I’m using a pseudonym so she still has a family in January) said that for her family, Christmas was an opportunity to dredge up a year’s worth of unexpressed resentment, revealing fault lines and tensions which would erupt as the halls were decked with poison ivy.
Bongai from Zimbabwe (also not her real name) describes her family get-together as a forced love-in between Zanu-PF and the MDC. Her mom is quite traditional and believes it is up to the women to handle catering and cleaning. As Bongai is a feminist, you can imagine this doesn’t go down well. Instead of Christmas being about relaxation, family bonding, and gossipy chats about Grace Mugabe’s latest beau, Bongai finds she is exhausted and ratty, and ready to become a feminist serial killer.
“Why do we have to spend so much when we get so little back?” wailed one of my younger colleagues.
Willem said he felt pressurised into getting presents for people he barely knew and never really wanted to see again - always a good formula for a thoughtful gift experience I’ve felt.
Unsurprisingly, Mall Aversion Disorder (MAD) was a very common diagnosis. Decorations from October, carols numbing you into a state of catatonia, hordes of gift shoppers looking for a bargain and a seat for swollen ankles, tricking an old lady out of the last parking spot in the basement, the mall experience can bring out the worst in all of us.
Margaret said she avoided malls from November to January, but she’s a tough woman with a large deep freeze.
Caroline, now single and alone after her kids emigrated, shared that when she visits her dad in his old-age home she gets sucked into carols (with resentful participation from the old folks) and denture-challenging fruit cake. This leaves her ready to kill herself or her father. He doesn’t help because he’s extremely cross she left Port Elizabeth all those years ago and uses Christmas to wield the weapon of the angry parent, guilt.
But all is not lost, here are 10 tips to surviving the festive season
1. For couples, try splitting the Christmas period into three chunks - your partner’s parents for a few days, yours for another set, and the last chunk should be for yourselves. How you divvy this up can vary every year so that in a three-year cycle, someone has got what they really want. Easy peasy (not).
2. For singles, remember that old airline adage: when the oxygen masks fall, and you’ve stopped screaming, put yours on first before you attend to those around you. So, look after yourself and book a spa treatment before and after the visit. You can endure parental crabbiness, secure in the knowledge that the jaw ache you have from biting your tongue will be eased.
3. For World War III-style meals, give the eggnog and wine (or beer) a miss and stay sober (ish). There is nothing like alcohol to lift the lid off inhibitions. Of course, if alcohol makes you merry and oblivious to those questions about when you’re getting married (and they’re not referring to your same-sex partner you dragged kicking and screaming to Christmas Eve dinner), go for it. Just make sure you have a designated driver - spending Christmas Day in a holding cell is not a mistletoe moment.
4. Plan ahead. Make a resolution well before you hit the lunch table not to rise to any bait and, if possible, decide on a cue phrase from your partner to help you back off. So when s/he suddenly shouts “damn I love a good stuffing” in the middle of a tense moment, you know it’s time for a trip to the loo for some deep breathing.
5. If you feel exploited by your mom’s 1950’s idea of gender roles, insist on some “me” time when you can kick back and relax. You can also make a fun game of role-swapping (and no, I’m not talking about the bedroom, but if that helps…) and get the guys to cook, the kids to clean and the women to drive around the neighbourhood showing off the new car.
6. If you’re weighed down by a tradition you never subscribed to and is inappropriate for your family (you’re Jewish/Muslim/Hindu/atheist, but your partner is a devout Christian), who says you have to stick to roast turkey and fruit cake? Samoosa mince pies, brandy butter blintzes, curried turkey rotis, the possibilities are endless.
7. When you have developed a hernia from picking up the Sunday newspaper now weighing 20kg from all the gift supplements, it’s time to turn to higher things. Make a deal with your family (of origin or choice) and give a sizeable donation to a good charity in lieu of presents. My neighbour focuses on kids and she says this gives her the most pleasure. Bless.
8. Alternatively, agree to a spending limit, allocating specific recipients so you know what to buy. Or try ditching the whole exercise. Isn’t just being together a gift enough? (sings Kumbaya to self) I tried this once in my family and to say the reception was frosty would be putting it mildly. You’d have thought I was suggesting a fireside chat with Kim Jong-il of North Korea.
9. Plan trips to the mall. Put your favourite music on your MP3 player and waft through the mall with a silly Zen expression on your face. You’re bound to annoy a few people and that’s always fun. Go in early as the shops open and you’ll be out of there in no time. And always carry a hip flask - ’tis the season to be merry and a good vodka has never failed me. See above note on designated drivers!
10. Volunteer to work at a local organisation or institution that struggles to fill rosters over the festive season. Yes, I know I’m being a Pollyanna, but it helps people in need, gives you a legitimate reason to avoid the Auld Lang Whine season and earns you major brownie points with your family.
So there you have it, a Grinch’s guide to surviving Christmas. Peace, joy and fun can be had, but it is hard work. - Sunday Tribune
* Pierre Brouard is a Pretoria-based clinical psychologist.