It sounded like such a good idea in theory; staying on good terms with the ex’s; welcoming new partners, offspring and relatives into the mix; a bit like the Brady bunch or a Christmas cake.
To put it bluntly- the only thing nuclear in this family is Gran’s alcohol laced trifle (that’s my ex partner’s grandmother, as opposed to my grandmother or my ex husband’s grandmother or his new partner’s grandmother or my new partner’s grandmother).
The kids think it’s great (that’s my biological children, my ex husband’s biological children, my ex husband’s partner’s step children, my ex partner’s ex children, my current partner’s.., oh fuck… you know what I mean!), if I’m not up to standard in my motherly duties then there’s always a couple of spares to make up for my inadequacies.
The trouble comes, of course, in the holiday season.
A traditional separated family would have it all sorted out, one half of the day with Mum and one half with Dad, as set out in the custody agreement and set in stone or Nana’s scones, which are of a firmer texture (that’s my Nana by the way, on my mother’s side- I just have the one mum).
The obvious solution seemed to be a get together involving everyone, but the stadium has been booked already and air new Zealand didn’t have a spare plane.
So it’s back to the drawing board for me, while members of more traditional families wait for Christmas day for the family war I’m starting early.
If I play my cards right I’ll be relative free and be sleeping in on the 25th.
No comments:
Post a Comment