More bustle, less tussle: Her goal is to get through the holidays in good spirits

Over the 22 years we’ve been married, my husband and I have developed a holiday tradition that I would like very much to terminate: the pre-festivities bustle-hustle tussle.

Before hosting a gathering, or even preparing to go elsewhere to celebrate, there always comes a moment where our expectations become misaligned and our teamwork devolves into a lurching, squealing vehicle, with one of us applying the gas and the other stomping stubbornly on the brakes.

It starts out well enough, usually an early morning with a pot of coffee and both of us getting ready for guests.

The signs that our haphazardly oiled machine is about to start rattling and smoking are predictable. First I realize I’ve once again underestimated how long it will take me to get things done. This somewhat suspiciously coincides with an increase in his football-watching, couch-sitting breaks. I then take inventory of my to-do list, estimating how much time I need for each item, always coming up short. Next I make a plea to my sports-enamored husband to continue helping.

This portion of the tradition is not all that bad. I can admit when I’ve over-committed, and I do want him to enjoy the holidays, so I try to maintain my chill.

It’s the next bit where things begin to get off kilter. It’s the part where my husband looks at me with the wide-eyed innocence of a child and asks, “What needs to be done?”

To me, the answer is obvious. We need to do the things we always do when guests are coming over. It’s the same task list we’ve executed several times a year for almost a quarter of a century. He has practice.

I try to be gracious and only gently remind him that we need to check the bathroom, set the table, pick up anything out of place, finish the food, and for the love of God, have the cocktails ready for when the guests arrive.

He’s a good man, and he readily agrees, enthusiastically tackling one thing, then settling onto the couch to reward himself for a job well done with a little hard-earned sports spectating.

I attempt to patiently wait for him to self-motivate before offering a little nudge that we aren’t yet ready. He might protest that he did whatever he had done. This is the point at which my anxiety overcomes me, pushing me to a different state altogether. It’s a side of me he actually may be a bit afraid of. This new me — the slightly monstrous, infinitely less patient me — no longer needs to nudge, as my roar has provided ample fuel to propel his effort.

With his help, we usually reach the “good enough” point early enough to taste-test the cocktail, with time for me to self-reflect on my exaggerated anxiety and offer any warranted apologies.

We have only been fully ready with time to spare a handful of times.

We’ve been working on this with some success. We even high-fived in celebration at our last gathering when we realized our period of heightened emotions and frustration only lasted a few minutes. I start my prep-work sooner, I provide lists of things I need help with, I set expectations with myself to let him watch football in peace. He’s more proactive, I try to catch myself before flipping out. It’s an effort on both sides.

But the reality is that any plan expands to fit the time I have, bursting out of the seams like expansion foam oozing out of a crack. The only way to eliminate the work of holiday prep is to eliminate the event itself, and we don’t want to do that.

What we can do, however, is alter our expectations and perhaps relax our standards, whittling away the fluff and focusing on what really matters. Good music, great food and amazing company with drinks in-hand set the stage for fun and joy, and that’s when everyone’s in good spirits.

And maintaining our own good spirits should be the number one item on our to-do list.

Emily Parnell can be reached at emily@emilyjparnell.com.