The Holiday Hustle

It’s mid-August, and on my way to the kitchen from my home office, my wife Melissa asks, “Did you see your dad’s text to everyone?” I’d seen his note in the family group chat, but I hadn’t read it. Standing at the fridge, I scan the text. It is Dad asking (in August!) to coordinate the Christmas schedule. In particular, he’s hoping we can deviate from our tradition of getting together on December 26th.

Dad texted because he and my stepmom Allison want to leave Jersey and head to Florida on December 26th because they have guests coming. He proposes we gather for Christmas on the 23rd, which he knows is my 10-year-old daughter’s birthday, and suggests we weave her birthday dinner into the Christmas festivities.

Melissa and I have a quick exchange about the commitment we made 11 years ago to not mix Phoebe’s birthday with Christmas events, which everyone in our family knows. I say, “I’ll take care of it,” and head back to my office.

By this time, my older brother has responded with his usual “I’ll be staying in Virginia,” and my two sisters have indicated they are flexible. As I sit down to respond, I’m torn. Part of me wants to go with the flow. (I’m sibling number three out of four.) I’m also annoyed by the box the text chain put Melissa and me in because we are the only ones with a constraint. So, my rebellious self is considering firing off the “peace” emoji with a “See ya in the spring!” caption.

After a bit of self-coaching, I click out a kind but firm message that we aren’t flexible on our commitment. I explain that while we appreciate the willingness to add some birthday fun to the family Christmas, we won’t be there if it’s on the 23rd.

I hit send and pop over to ask Melissa what she thinks. She has an uneasy expression on her face and asks, “Are we really willing to not do any Christmas with your Dad and Allison?” It’s a fair question. She suggests that she send a follow up text that softens my message a bit. I’m fine with that because I know I can be too direct, especially with “efficient” texts. Melissa messages the group that we could be available on December 21/22. With that, my extended—and blended—family had established our plan for family Christmas … in August.

Breaking down the play

What can seem like a simple functional topic is often loaded with emotional and relational considerations. So let’s look more closely at this scenario and break down what was going on. What actually happened? What was done well? What could have been done differently? Here are five insights you can use as practice hints for navigating a situation like this. Hopefully, they are helpful to you the next time you have generational conversations around planning of any kind.

1. Being proactive: How we seek voice impacts people’s experience

My dad’s proactive text was based on the principle of Voice-Vote—when people are impacted by a decision, they get to have a voice and maybe a vote. But given that he and Allison seemed to already have plans for after Christmas, it felt like voice was being offered without many options to choose from. That makes it hard for other people to engage. An alternative message might have been, “Hey everyone, we’re contemplating some post-Christmas plans with guests in Florida, but we know this might mess up our Christmas time. Can we explore some options that could meet everyone’s holiday needs?”

2. Giving the benefit of the doubt: Choosing positive attributions

Whenever we interact with family members, or anyone at all, our attributions are in play—organized beliefs about people that shape how we interpret experiences and interact. The text tested my attributions about Dad and Allison. If I let myself believe they are “controlling” or “manipulative,” I likely would have been reactive. Instead, I leaned into my actual beliefs about them, which is that they are loving, thoughtful people who also have a really busy social calendar. By assuming good intent on their part, I was able to step back and just view the text as a bit of a miss.

3. Holding a boundary: A differentiated approach without weaponizing what matters

Establishing and maintaining boundaries is important in all relationships. It’s also critical to forming our own identity in families as we grow into adulthood. Melissa and I set the precedent about the birthday years ago and let everyone know. But it’s one thing to maintain a boundary and another to weaponize it. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it crossed my mind to use this moment as a chance to remind everyone that if I feel painted into a corner, I’m tempted to make the choice I want, regardless of consequences. And, I know that’s not productive. So, I chose to hold the boundary using a good communication process, which is a focus on HOW we say something instead of just WHAT we want to say.

4. Offering alternatives: A continuum of options maintained a boundary AND relationships

Working together, Melissa helped ensure we nailed the process part of this. I restated the boundary and then she expanded the continuum of options. That set the group up to move beyond right/wrong, yes/no thinking about what seemed like one “okay” option and one really bad option (from our perspective). When narrow options are offered, we can get locked into a debate and lose track of other possibilities, while setting up a scenario where someone might “win” and someone else might “lose.”

5. One final priority: Responding rather than reacting

When I got Dad’s text, I was immediately annoyed by the lack of options and went towards a reactive mode. I stood there subconsciously travelling back through every moment like this in my history with him. Any of us can slip into personal history without realizing. The trouble is that reactivity is a loss of choice. (Sending the “See ya in the spring!” message would not have been a choice. The choice was to not send it.) I regained intentionality by coaching myself toward a response. Yes, I was still annoyed, because Dad knows about our boundary. But maybe he had his own complications with his schedule. I was able to stay away from reactivity. That changed my message to the group. It also meant I was open to Melissa’s view. Instead of rolling my eyes, we talked it through and created a thoughtful shared response that combined my boundary setting with her option expanding.