Getting to Know You: How to Relate to Your Relatives During the Holidays

Well, the great Thanksgiving pilgrimage has begun and as you head over the river and through the woods to your relatives, some of you may be dreading a turkey day that comes with judgmental relatives, healthy servings of shade, and conversations that rarely progress beyond "can you believe how hot/cold/icy/snowy it is today?" But, I think there's a deeper issue - how little we know our relatives. Whether you're breaking the wishbone with your blood relatives or your in-laws, it's a sure bet that you don't know as much about each other as you assume you do. And I'm not talking about your hopes and dreams and fears, I mean basic stuff like favorite food, favorite color, favorite movie. 

For blood relatives who've known each other for most of their lives, the Thanksgiving table turns into a session of Mad Libs: The "remember that time..." edition. There are certain stories that make up the family mythology and the ritualistic retelling of these tales further cements the familial bond - or something like that! But, these stories sometimes don't allow for the telling of new stories and the family becomes frozen in a narrative loop that doesn't allow the characters in these stories to develop an interior life and to progress. 

Crazy Uncle Duck who accidentally blew up the family barn when he was 12 years old while deep frying a turkey will always be that character, even when he's 20 and in college, when he's 27 and doing his medical school residency, and when he's 45 and is tops in his field as an orthopedic surgeon. There is comfort in hearing this story and in telling this story. But, Uncle Duck - who now goes by Ben - might hate this story, and he might wonder why the family seems disinterested in who he has become and the journey he's taken to get there. 

In studying Biblical literature, the phrase "closed text" is used to describe a list of scriptural books considered to be authoritative, to which nothing more may be added. For instance, the books that comprise the Torah. In our family lives, we can become the human equivalent of "closed texts", not allowing space for the natural evolution that happens in human beings, and greeting these changes at the holiday table with scorn, disgust, derision, or dismissal. 

Years ago, when I was in grad school - broke and hundreds of miles away from home - I had the best Thanksgiving of my life. It was at the Westin Copley Place with a dozen or so other grad students, a couple of whom were my friends and the rest of whom were strangers. We laughed, we talked, we ate too much and over the course of several hours we got to know each other. We were genuinely interested in learning about each other and by the end of the night new friendships were forged and established friendships were deepened. 

So, starting this Thanksgiving, get to know your families. Ask them the who/what/why/where/how questions that a reporter or a stranger in an airport bar would ask. Bypass the family shorthand and truly engage with your family. If you're with your in-laws, don't let them cut their long stories short, assuming that your significant other has given you a pre-dinner briefing about who begat who and whom divorced whom. And if you're the one bringing your significant other into the family fold, let them get to know your family members one on one. Seat them next to a favorite aunt and let the two of them have a dialogue and get to know one another. It's better for your relatives to experience first-hand how wonderful your partner is and not hear about it from you. In short, don't talk about each other, rather talk to each other. The holidays are annual opportunities to check in with each other - don't miss your chance.

Good Grief?

I am tired. More tired than I have ever been in my life. In the weeks since my father's death, I have attempted to drag my family through the holiday minefield. Thanksgiving dinner had the feel of a second funeral with all of us doing our best to give a stiff upper lip at a generic restaurant buffet. Black Friday was packed with an outing to see Christmas decorations, along with a birthday luncheon for Mom, and a Christmas tree lighting. The past few weekends have been a red and green blur, with field trips to Christmas concerts, holiday parties, and more Christmas lights. My young nephews enjoy the spectacle, and we indulge them with  cookies and candy and promises of more, more, more. But, if I said that I was doing all of this just for my nephews, and just for my family, I'd be lying. In the midst of grief, I want to dig into life until I'm up to my elbows in it. I want endless days filled with noise because the quiet and the dark are just too much right now.

But, still, I'm tired. So maybe it's time that I let myself grieve. Even now, at this inconvenient time - when it would be easier to swill some eggnog, put on my Christmas sweater and get with the program. Maybe it's OK to sleep a little longer and sit out a few holiday parties. Maybe it's cool to NOT feel like Christmas shopping and maybe I can be forgiven for not having my Christmas cards signed, sealed, and delivered before Christmas Day. Maybe it's alright to be still and to face all of the fear and the pain and the doubt that grief brings to the surface. In grief, life and death come face to face with one another, and while dwelling on this fact can destroy you, denying this fact will exhaust you.

New Year, New Brand!

If you and 2010 have had a bumpy go of it, then the New Year can't get here soon enough for you. Lost a job, lost a spouse, lost your house - then putting 2010 in your rear view mirror is just what the doctor ordered. There's no delicate way to put this, and academia hasn't found a more profound way to parse it - sometimes things just suck!

So, let's change it up for 2011. And, as any fan of pop culture will tell you, the first step in transforming your life is through the time-tested quick-fix - the Makeover!

Now, look, this isn't one of those ambush jobs like you see on TV where some unsuspecting, fanny-packed rube is sentenced to the scrutiny of criminally-botoxed, self-appointed arbiters of style and millions of viewers.

I'm talking about remaking your brand. We experience branding in every moment of our waking lives. In the morning we shampoo our hair with the dependable tonic that will eliminate those telltale white flakes and that they stock at that W Hotel we stayed in, and we wash ourselves with the soap that's soft and gentle on our skin that we read about in InStyle. We eat a great-tasting cereal that's high in fiber and low in calories that the other moms in your daughter's playgroup swear by, and we grab a coffee at that pricey coffee shop because, as their marketing says, they ethically source their high quality coffee beans.

Branding goes beyond marketing. BusinessDictionary.com defines branding as the, "entire process involved in creating a unique name and image for a product in the consumers' mind, through  advertising campaigns with a consistent theme." The goal is to attract and retain loyal customers.

So what makes up your personal brand? Are you the gal who's always late to things? Are you the fellow who has a new "serious" girlfriend every month? Do you look like an unmade bed when you roll into the office? Does your vocabulary consist of 5 out of the seven words from George Carlin's bit? If you answered yes to these questions, then your brand would be that of an insensitive, self-centered, profane, lazy slob.

I know, I'm being a smarty-pants, but how many of us take an active inventory of not just who we are, but who we project to the world? How do we attract and retain loyal friends and family members?

Movie stars and CEOs hire an army of stylists and consultants to create and maintain their brand, but, we'll have to do it on the cheap here. So quick, pick your theme, that thing that makes you "you". Try it out in a sentence, like this, "Oh, that's [your name here], she's really sweet and she's great to talk to." Now, you have to create advertising campaigns that are consistent with your theme. So if [your name here] is really sweet and great to talk to, then she must consistently do things that will reinforce this - she must always be a good listener who is active, responsive, and engaged with all who bend her ear. She must always be sweet, doing all she can to make those in her company feel appreciated, smart, respected, or whatever they need. And, if our sweet, good listener is having a bad day where she doesn't feel like being her brand? Well, she could take a personal day and shelter in place at home; plaster on a smile and stick with the theme; or, blame her out-of-sorts feelings on a cold/headache/broken pinkie toe, apologizing profusely.

But beware! (I know, now she gives us the word of caution?) Branding can be a double-edged sword. The traditional definition of branding is, "to put a mark of disgrace on." Corporations wage wars against those who would dare to damage their brand, and there are those in your circle of friends, family, or work colleagues who may not like you taking an active hand in your personal branding. Maintaining your consistency in the face of attack can be difficult, but maintain it you must. But that's not enough. Be ready to be tough and protect your brand. If there's some frenemy taking to Facebook to post nasty jabs at your new job/new boyfriend/ new nose, first, delete their comments, and then, delete the frenemy with the time-honored "de-friend." You can invite them back if they learn to respect you.

And here's to 2011 and the brand new you:)

The Post-Holiday Blues:(

So the party's over. The eggnog has been drunk, the needles on the Christmas tree are starting to stiffen,  you're wondering what to do with all of those damn candy canes and, if you were one of the lucky ones not snowed in, you're trying to find space for all of the goodies that Santa left for you. The day after Christmas is always a bit of a letdown because, really, Christmas is all about anticipation. I remember that old Heinz ketchup commercial where the camera is fixed on a bottle of the gooey red stuff and, as Carly Simon's "Anticipation" plays in the background, we all stare, transfixed, awaiting the arrival of the precious drop of ketchup. It's, seriously, the longest 60 seconds!

The Christmas build-up starts around Halloween, and by the time we get to December 1st and see the growing stack of Eddie Bauer and L.L. Bean catalogues on the family room floor, you wonder if December 25th can come any sooner.  

Anticipation is one of the more seductive emotions. Yes, I said seductive. It's this delicious tension that results as a by-product of waiting and fulfillment. We've all waited for some big thing: that first kiss, the big job offer, the walk down the aisle, the birth of a baby. And that waiting is pregnant with possibility and every wild imagining. But what about the moment after the BIG MOMENT?

Once the tension of waiting is broken, what to do next? How do you deal with the emptiness that results when your One Shining Moment limps to conclusion?  Well, since you asked, here are a few simple suggestions:

1. Start a new project - One of the most time-worn, post-holiday projects is the diet/fitness/weight loss military industrial complex. Why do you think those Jennifer Hudson/Weight Watchers commercials have increased ten fold in the past few days?? I know, it's so un-original as to be cliche, but it'll keep you busy and, with each drop of a pants size, you'll be able to celebrate each inch of success with a "Pretty Woman" style revenge-shopping spree at all of the boutiques that gave you the stink-eye when you were a larger size!
2. Share those holiday photos - Chances are that if you're feeling a little post-holiday depression, then other people may be feeling it, too. So release those photos from your camera's SD card and let your friends and family relive those magic moments. Bonus points if you leave the embarrassing pics off of your Facebook page!!
3. Leave your Christmas lights up - There's something so festive about watching the dazzling display of Christmas lights, so why take them down just because it's January 1st?? In my household, we've been known to leave our Christmas lights up and on until May. And if it ticks off your neighbors or home owners association, well, just tell them you wanted to beat the rush for next year. And, speaking of next year...
4. Start shopping for next year - The days after Christmas are way better than Black Friday if you're looking for good retail karma. You've just been with your relatives so you've been able to focus group test their reactions to this year's loot. Also, by the time Christmas rolls around next year, they'll have forgotten what was in stores this year and they'll be thrilled that you remember their tastes so well. You'll amaze them by your super-durable, heavy weave wrapping paper, purchased at 75% off from the Container Store post-Christmas sale. Just remember to store everything discretely and you can savor all year long the anticipation of how much they'll love everything on December 25, 2011!

Remember, sometimes the feeling of wanting what you want is better than getting what you want. I'm just saying:)

Silent Night, Really??

So the stockings are hung, the pies are baked, and in a few more hours, as darkness covers the expanse of the mall parking lot, even the Santas will finally go home for their Merry Christmas. For Christmas people, we often refer to this Christmas Eve as the holiest of nights as we await the birth of Jesus. We sing quiet, lolling tunes, like "Silent Night", extolling the calmness of the world as Jesus enters in, surrounded by a star-studded cast of angels, animals, strangers bearing gifts, and Mary and Joseph.

So familiar are we with this scene that we, too, try to transform Christmas into this tranquil haven for ourselves and our families, with limited success. The arrival of a child is almost never quiet and hushed. There is laughter, tears, screaming (lots of screaming), chaos, and a bit of panic.  There is joy in the midst of intense physical pain, and a complex desire to be everything you never thought you could be for this tiny little person. As my friends have become parents, I have watched them in seeming perpetual motion, working harder than they ever had before. The arrival of their children has clarified their thinking and made them acutely aware of the world that their children occupy.

The Christmas story should wake you up and push you out into a world that's churning with need.    

I'm just saying:)

Home Alone: Going Solo for the Holidays

For many of us, the holiday season is a seemingly endless round of parties and celebrations. There's the holiday luncheon for your office, a muted affair with at least one irksome cubicle-mate sporting their bright red reindeer sweater in a non-ironic way! There will be the invitations from fellow members of your synagogue, your church, the mommies from your child's play group, or your book group/Red Hats/fraternity and lodge brothers. It is a sea of frivolity, small talk, and awkward pauses, fueled by open bars and highly suspicious bowls of alcoholic holiday punches. The choreography is always the same - knock on door of host home, greet host while presenting gift bottle of wine, deposit coat to designated area, grab drink and food article on a stick, eat article and continue holding the now empty stick, smile and nod and try to remember names, look at watch, grab coat, say goodbyes to hosts wiTh promise of seeing each other in the New Year, leave host home, drive to MacDonald's for actual meal as food article on a stick was not substantial!

It's no wonder, then, that some people opt out of this treadmill, and choose the quiet pleasure of their own company. Choosing to spend the holidays on your own is a difficult proposition. If you're planning on doing this, be prepared for pushback. Why? People don't like the idea of someone being alone during a time when you're expected to be in the company of others. They're afraid that you're depressed and in pain. If you're over the age of 65, then you're really screwed! Blame "Tuesdays with Maury" if you'd like. There is an assumption that if you're alone, it's not by choice but by circumstance.

A friend of mine who is in seminary told me that the foreign students who cannot afford to make the trip back home to their native countries are sent to stay with volunteer families in various parts of the United States for the month-long Christmas break. I can't imagine anything worse than having to play the role of good girl guest for 30 days in a stranger's home! Even if you wanted to have some down time and be on your own for Christmas, forget it, you're going to forced into community so eat your mush and shut your pie hole!!

One of my relatives opted out of the family Thanksgiving, choosing a day of quiet reflection instead of the chaos of my family and a long drive! When I first heard of her decision, my reaction was "poor thing", but, after 5 hours with my family, all hopped up on turkey and pumpkin pie, I thought she was a genius!

Bottom line - if you can't understand someone's choice, at least try to respect it. And those are words to live by all year long - not just during the holidays.

I'm just saying:)

A Holiday Crash Course

As the great migration begins for the Christmas holiday, there are some travelers who are in a panic- not about the overly familiar TSA screener with the twinkle in their eye and the frisky fingers, nor about the conditions in the rest stop powder rooms along the New Jersey Turnpike. No, they're anxious because this will be their first Christmas with their significant other's family.

For us veterans out there, that first Big Holiday with your honey's family can be like a visit to a foreign country with new and interesting customs, and a language that's not your own. It can be tough to navigate a terrain populated with inside jokes and references to events that have occurred over the life of a family that is not your own. There are the landmines onto which you will step through no fault of your own - the innocent inquiry into the source of the lovely place-settings can open up a generations'-old blood feud involving several family members (living and dead).

So here are some strategies to keep you safe during your maiden voyage into this undiscovered country:

1. Find your Buddy: The trek to this new world can be scary, and, because your Sherpa, who happens to be your honey, is also a NATIVE of this land, prepare yourself to be left alone at some point. DO NOT PANIC!! Whether you've been stranded on the sofa in the family room in front of the overly-large plasma TV with Cousin Jenny who forgot her meds, or you're in the vortex of a heated debate involving your honey and their family, get your wits about you and scan that room for a friendly face. Chances are, you'll see a fellow traveler who speaks your language. Heck, they might even be able to translate for you!
2. Familiarize Yourself with the Terrain: Prior to arrival in the new land, ask your Sherpa important questions like where can I go to have a smoke or where is the nearest bar? Find the bathrooms (ALL of the bathrooms, as you never know when you might need a moment of quiet and mental retreat - with the exhaust fan and the gentle tunes of your iPod, it's the closest thing you may get to a spa. Hell, while you're in there, run yourself a bath, too:)
3. A "no thank you" Serving Makes the Natives Happy: One of my friends has the misfortune of being a vegetarian in a long-term relationship with a man whose mother believes that dinner plates are for food items that had a face and parents. So the big holiday meal is a test of wills with green beans cooked in bacon fat. It's become a "thing", so, my advice, have a little bit, say a cheerful "no thank you" if seconds are being passed, and that's all. It's an away game for you so let it go and attack that extra bag of pretzels that you got on the airplane! In the words of Conan O'Brien, "eat your mush and shut your pie-hole!"
4. Wine NOT Whine: Be of good cheer, and if you're having the worst time in the world, then uncork some joy and save the whining for when you get home. Your Sherpa may have abandoned you, you may have listened to dozens of family tales, and you may have slept on the lumpiest/smelliest mattress ever made, but no one wants to hear it. Your honey may be oblivious to what you might be suffering, but the time to clue them in is not when their family members are in the next room of a house with paper thin walls.

So grab a glass, actually, you should grab 2 glasses, give your honey a hug, and toast to the holidays (and that you have another 365 days until you have to do this again:)

I'm just saying!!

Ho-Ho-Ho and the Big Red Bow!

Over the years, I've developed a deep affection for the Christmas-themed commercial. Sure, their purpose is to "push product", but the way in which they do so tells us a lot about where we are as a society - you know, what we value, what we aspire to, who we love, and how we love. When I was in high school, the best holiday commercial featured a young college student arriving at the family home, complete with duffel bag and a big-man-on-campus grin, in the early hours of Christmas morning. The house is quiet, and our collegian walks purposefully into the immaculate kitchen and puts on a pot of coffee, whose aroma summons the rest of this picture-perfect family down to the family's Christmas tree, and straight into the arms of our college student, a la the prodigal son. It's a beautiful commercial that always hits its target, because, you see, for this college student, the most important part about the holidays is the opportunity to be reunited with his family and to do a simple act of kindness for them.

Before the implosion of the real estate market, government-financed bank bailouts, and TARP, the most popular Christmas commercial involved beautiful people in House Beautiful homes being led, blindfolded, out of their homes and smack into a brand new car complete with a Jurassic Park-sized red bow.

This year, in the midst of the recession, the Christmas commercials that have received the most airtime include a Target commercial with a group of pyjama-clad siblings excitedly tearing down the stairs and ripping through their presents in a hail of ribbons, wrapping paper, and tape. The hip-hop track playing over the proceedings is a trance-like ditty that asks, "is it time yet?", over and over and over again, while these shrieking children run backwards up the stairs and, we assume, back to their rooms. The chief messages that I take away from this commercial are that children hate to be kept waiting when it comes to their Christmas presents, and, oh yeah, that Christmas is always and only about what's under the tree.

If you're that parent who just lost their job, or who has seen a significant cut in the number of hours you work, then that Target commercial means that no matter how bad you have it, children have to be made happy, and, since children only speak in the language of stuff and things, happiness equals lots of things under the tree for them.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think that everything a commercial says is the Gospel truth! For instance, I don't think that there are a gaggle of mannequins from Old Navy living a mini-soap opera in Anytown USA! Nor do I think that drinking the Vodka endorsed by Diddy will suddenly thrust me into a black and white film world of mansions, swimming pools, and a thin little waste.
But I definitely think that commercials either reflect behavior or seek to set behavior.

In the midst of money woes across all pay scales, the holiday malls are packed, and the WalMart parking lots are at capacity. It would seem that the commercials are winning!

I'm just saying!

The Original De-Friend

My husband and I were writing out Christmas/Hanukkah/Druid cards over the last couple of weeks when the questions began. Do you remember so-and-so's kids' names? Did so-and-so move? Wow, you know I haven't talked to so-and-so in the past few years, I wonder if they're:
(a) doing fine;
(b) getting divorced;
(c) adopting a baby;
(d) taping a reality show;
(e) living in a retirement home/convent/ashram

Well, you get the point. The holiday card can be a time to re-evaluate relationships. To ask, in a modified way, the question asked by the character Elaine on Seinfeld, "are you card worthy?"

Before there was Facebook, de-friending someone usually became official when you were updating your holiday card list. My mother kept her Christmas card list in a 5x7 address book and then moved it to an 11x14 legal pad when, at the age of 50, she decided that life was too short to try to make her outsize handwriting fit the silly little confines of the 5x7 address book. Every year, Mom would review the list. There were the evergreen names who left the list only in death- these included the grandmothers, her aunts and uncles, her brother and his wife, and all of her first cousins. The rest of the list, though, was up for grabs. Names would be crossed out, including those not-so-close friends she hadn't heard from for a while, and new names would enter the list. It was low-tech, but it was effective.

Even in the age of Facebook, we're still asking those relationship questions with every Christmas card we write (sorry about that, but I've been watching White Christmas and that song just gets inside of your head!!). For some people, it's the more the merrier when it comes to the holiday card list. Everyone gets a card because the holiday spirit should be one of inclusion and welcome. Some people use a system based on a complex calculation that takes into consideration the number of personal interactions throughout the calendar year, along with the dollar amount budgeted for the purchase of stamps and cards, and the possibility of the ultimate humiliation - the one-way, you know when you assume that you have to send someone a card but then they don't send you one, even after they've received your card. The sender feels like a needy reject and the recipient feels guilty and uncomfortable and it's all a complete holiday fail!! 

So , let's make a New Year's resolution. Today, while you're finishing up those last-minute holiday cards, make a promise to yourself to check in at least once with all of the people on your holiday card list BEFORE Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa 2011. Find out how they're doing, what their life is like on a Tuesday in the middle of March. Oh, they'll be surprised. But they'll also smile at the thought that someone was thinking of them. And you may find that the one thing better than finding out if someone is card-worthy is finding that you are friend-worthy.

I'm just saying:)