The ACOD's (Adult Children of Divorce) Guide to Surviving Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving. It's a beautiful holiday - candles on the table, golden brown and fragrant turkey, all the special dishes you remember, the family together being a family and being grateful. But if your clan is more like the Osbornes than the Osmonds, or if Mom and Dad have split and Mom married a guy with 10 kids and Dad moved to Wisconsin with his new wife who keeps insisting that everyone fly out to be with them on Thanksgiving, or if your significant other is also an ACOD and the two of you are at odds about which side of the family gets the honor of your presence, then deciding what to do can make you, well, a little queasy.

Hopefully the following suggestions can help you weather the domestic storms that holidays can spark for ACODs and let you emerge with the minimum of hurt feelings while actually enjoying yourself.

Queasy Situation No. 1: There's No Place Like a Broken Home for the Holidays

Holidays are especially hard for ACODs. (It's the rare adult who isn't one these days.) Sometimes all it takes is a stroll past the display of canned pumpkin and pie crust mix in the supermarket to trigger memories of warm family times when you were together (after, of course, your brain has censored out those scenes of the arguments and broken dishes and your mother's tightened jaw and your father disappearing into the den after dinner to watch football leaving everyone else with the cleanup).

Now everything has changed. There's no "home" to go home to. Mom and Dad are living apart and all that remains are the memories. No wonder so many people get depressed around the holidays. (Probably whoever invented the concept of "Black Friday" was an ACOD, too. They don't call it "retail therapy" for nothing.)

But remember, you've changed, too. You're an adult now, and your siblings are adults, and possibly married with children and forming traditions of their own. It's OK to be nostalgic (hence the popularity of the memoir), but you run into trouble when you let it rule (and ruin) your present. It's a challenge, but the more you can accept your current situation, the easier it will be for you to move on.

As if this isn't hard enough, most likely each of your parents will want a piece of you on Thanksgiving. Some families solve this dilemma by divvying up holidays (Dad's at Thanksgiving, Mom's at Christmas, Dad's at Groundhog's Day, Mom's at Millard Fillmore's birthday, etc.). Some, depending on how close everyone lives, split up the meal (Appetizers at Dad's, dinner at Mom's, dessert at Dad's, football and falling asleep in the Barca-Lounger at Mom's...) Some, like my family, alternate years. All have their advantages and disadvantages. But by being proactive (and a little creative) you can avoid feeling like the wishbone.

• Set your boundaries. You are not a prize to be won. You're a person with wants and needs of your own. For instance, if you have a small child, and after a day of shuttling from house to house, your kid is pinging off the walls like the Tasmanian Devil and your carefully maintained routine is shot to hell, then you have a right not to go through that. And whatever you decide to do, make the decision early in the year and let all the involved parties know. It gets everyone used to the idea, and it's only fair.

• Don't ignore the other party's feelings. Alternating years might turn out to be an ACOD's most workable holiday solution, but it could leave everyone partying at Dad's one year while Mom watches "Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street," pours herself another bourbon and cries into her Healthy Choice frozen turkey dinner. (Like you don't feel guilty enough). But remember that while the holidays are rough on you, they're just as hard on your parents, if not harder. They also have that nostalgic picture of what Thanksgiving was like when everyone was together. They also carry the burden of knowing that they were the ones who upset the apple cart. Eventually, hopefully and possibly with help of a licensed therapist, everyone grows up and forgives each other, but old, hurt feelings still have a way of sneaking up on you at holidays. In other words, don't watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" alone.

• Kiss and make up. However you decide to divvy up holiday time, one parent is bound to feel like they're getting, as Marilyn Monroe said in "Some Like It Hot," "the fuzzy end of the lollipop." You can sweeten the situation by doing something to acknowledge the parent and/or extended family members that you won't be with that day. A call, flowers, or a special dish or gift sent ahead of time can help to make them feel remembered. Or, if practical, arrange another event during the Thanksgiving weekend, for example a Saturday night dinner or Sunday brunch, when you can spend time with them.

Queasy Situation No. 2: You're Bringing the Significant Other to Thanksgiving Dinner for the First Time

Think it's hard to juggle holidays with your own blended, extended family? Try adding someone else's kit and caboodle to the mix. Especially if your beloved is an ACOD, too. Look at it this way - if he or she survives the holiday season with you and your family, it's a good sign that you've got a keeper on your hands. But to get there, here are some points you may want to remember:

• Prep your Beloved as much as you can about your family. Without making his or her head explode, of course. But forewarned is forearmed. This includes expected style of dress or any religious customs. You might think your SO's lip stud is hot, but maybe he or she will want to leave it out for the first visit. Unless you're Unitarian, or half your family is already pierced. You could trade pain and infection stories over pumpkin pie.

• Touchy Subjects, part 1: If you're bringing a vocal political pundit to dinner, and he or she sits on the opposite side of the fence from some members of your family, gently explain that it might be best to keep politics off-limits, at least during the meal. It's really hard to remove cranberry or wine stains from clothing, wallpaper and your mother's Golden Retriever.

• Touch Subjects, part 2: If your family's divorce was especially horrific, involved restraining orders, jail time or gunplay, ask him or her not to mention the other spouse. It's no fun going to the emergency room or bailing someone out on a holiday. Unless you want a really good story to tell your future children.

Queasy Situation No. 3: It's Your Turn - Are You Ready for Your Close-up?

Theoretically, it could be possible that you've gone your whole life - even if your folks have split - only knowing one Thanksgiving menu. Now you're spending the holiday not only with a bunch of new people, but a new set of traditions, too. And what's that your significant other said? They only eat cranberry sauce from the CAN? And they don't have PIE??? What's WRONG with these people?? This happened to me, and I survived it. Take a breath. It's going to be all right.

• Maybe they like it that way. If you bring fresh cranberry sauce because you think they'll all change their minds once they taste it, don't say I didn't warn you if it sits on the table untouched. It also might send a message that you think they're not sophisticated enough for you. Wait until you've known them for a while, say, on your tenth wedding anniversary, to do this kind of consciousness-raising. Meanwhile, if you're pining for real cranberry sauce like Mom's, it's very easy to make it yourself. Save it for the leftovers.

• And on that same note... It's probably not the best idea bring anything too "un-Thanksgiving-like," at least the first time. Before we were married, I brought a dish of ratatouille to my husband's family's Thanksgiving dinner. I thought I was being terribly clever and original. They all crowed over the dish, but I was the only one who ate any. Then I started asking what I should bring. "Make the sweet potatoes," his mother said. "You know, the casserole kind, with the marshmallows and the pineapple." Frankly, I'd rather gag (I don't like icky-sweet stuff), but I made them - without the marshmallows and pineapple, but with a touch of brown sugar and orange juice concentrate instead (a recipe from "Cooking Light" magazine) and they liked them better. Now they ask for them every time.

• What's good for the goose is good for the gander. The same courtesies apply if you're going somewhere new. This probably isn't the time for the ripped jeans and the Goth makeup and a frank discussion about Roe vs. Wade. Save that for the wedding. Seriously, first impressions are remembered for a long time. Because he came empty-handed wearing designer ripped jeans (that probably cost half his paycheck), one of my in-laws still talks about that "rude and ungrateful" young man my sister-in-law brought for the holidays.

• And most importantly, remember your manners. As corny as it sounds in the 21st century, a follow-up call or card thanking the parent in question for sharing their dinner with you is always a nice touch. If you can't muster that because you started a heated debate about capital punishment, then at least offer to pay for the dry-cleaning.