Is It Just Me – Happy Holy Daze

Is it just me?

Or do thoughts of the forthcoming holiday break make you feel slightly queasy from too much anticipated ground turbulence in your house?

I’m aware that this time of year is supposed to bring out my inner Mother Theresa. I should be overflowing with human kindness, serenity and peace on earth, which, for the first ten years of my life, I thought were called, ”peas on earth” and caused me to shudder.

I’ve got issues, though.

My Mother Theresa has been replaced by a grouchy Joan Rivers who has just been told she needs to “take a number” at her plastic surgeon’s office. She would scowl, wouldn’t she, if she was able to move her face? I’m scowling now.

During the holiday break, where is the calm in abandoned arts & crafts projects, the Lego splinters in my feet, the constant requests for food, food and more food that is never the food we already have in the house? Where is the tranquility in cabin fever, colds, complaints of boredom and sibling wrestling matches?

While worrying myself about these unpleasant prospects, I’ve tried to remain civilized towards The Others, the special people who always go away for the holidays. They make jokes about not being able to eat dessert a month beforehand because “I’ll need to put on my bathing suit soon, tee-hee”.

Buy a bigger one! And, don’t bother packing suntan lotion. It’s a farce, really. Bright red is the new black and the sun is a natural toner. When I ever so politely inquire where these mutinous folks are headed they inevitably answer, “Oh, we’re going down south, but JUST FOR TWO WEEKS.” This is followed by a long sigh.

I guess I’m supposed to feel badly for these poor, long-suffering, entitled victims of the school curriculum. When Dakota was three, I’m told, they went away for a month but now that he’s in high school, well, it’s frowned upon to miss classes. I know, I know. It’s pointless to be envious and sour, but when my skin is molting from the dry heat in the house, hating these people is the only balm that brings relief.

As one who stays in town for the holy daze, I also have to endure the perky protestations of the soft news shows and family magazines:

“Not going away, this holiday? Who cares? If you can’t go to the island, bring the island to you!”

This suggestion is followed by a recipe for turning our family room into a hot-climate resort. I’m advised to lay out beach towels, set up lawn chairs, blow up a beach ball, buy some of that messy multi-coloured kid’s sand, put on my Ray Bans, slip my pale unwaxed body into a bathing suit, spin some Bob Marley or Beach Boys tunes, make virgin daiquiris out of Gatorade and yoghurt and pretend to enjoy a warm vacation with my family; The very same people who, by this juncture, I’d like to ship to Siberia. Do the news people and magazine editors think that all of us left behind are complete idiots? Why, yes. Yes, they do.

Perhaps, the most annoying and cloying aspect of the false hot holiday and The Other’s lament over their short two weeks away is the presumption, created by advertisers and the media, that the most desirable way to spend a vacation is by actually vacating, or at least “fake-vacating” as the case may be.

I ponder this. My scowl softens.

The truth is as much as I worry that my family may not entirely live up to the advertised happiness expected of us at this time of year, I still feel a slight tingling in my heart when I think of us all staying in our pyjamas until the early afternoon, snuggled together watching movies, reading, playing games and sipping hot aromatic or chocolaty drinks. I imagine we will dress up warm, go outside and build snow-people, forts or, if the snow is too powdery, just a big hill to slide down in snow pants. Then, if we’re feeling rebellious, we will walk to the corner for ice cream. Maybe, we’ll see a few films and visit a couple of museums, hang out with friends and let the kids revisit all the cool stuff in their rooms. I will embrace our in-town vacation by celebrating its reality, and I have a feeling that the time spent with my family will be rejuvenating and memorable even if we sometimes bicker, okay, yell, and run for the door.

I don’t need to pretend to be away. Being with my family will enable me to give and receive all the warmth required to survive the winter.

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