The perfect formula to ruin a family Shabbos

Perel: I did this for years, couldn’t you pull your fair share this time?

Baily: I’m happy to take over, but in a way that works for me.

Perel

When the last slice of cheesecake disappears and summer vacation begins in full swing, it’s time to start planning. The extended Miller family Shabbos Nachamu retreat in the country has been a tradition since forever. It’s sacred family time; everyone makes sure to be there for the weekend, we have a gala program and menu, and it’s the highlight of my parents’ year.

I enjoy it too, don’t get me wrong. It’s just the lead-up that gets me. You see, part of the family tradition is that the bulk of the organization, delegating, arranging, and basically pulling everything together falls on one person: me.

Most years, it’s worked out fine. I’m the oldest, I’m a party planner, I can pull off events no problem. So I set up a few google spreadsheets, prepare a menu, delegate the cooking, collect money from everyone, hire entertainers, prepare some games. My sisters pitch in with the food, the weekend goes like clockwork, everyone’s happy.

This year, though, something snapped. Maybe it was the time factor: the family’s grown, I was working two jobs, and I just didn’t have time anymore. Shimmy had a minor surgery, Bracha was off to seminary soon and wasn’t pitching in as much, and Adina, my oldest, had just started shidduchim. I felt like my days were an endless blur of on-the-phone, in-the-car, shopping and working and cooking and working and cleaning and working and barely catching a couple hours sleep before starting the whole routine again.

It was already Rosh Chodesh Tammuz and I hadn’t even started planning yet.

“I can’t do this,” I blurted to my husband one evening. I’d missed a call from Mrs. Kagan, the shadchan; there were three loads of laundry to fold; and my computer was open to a blank spreadsheet. “I just don’t have the time to even start.”

“So don’t,” Yerachmiel said, surprisingly. “Don’t do it. Your siblings can take charge for a change. Why should it be you? You have so much else going on.”

At first, the idea sounded ludicrous. Like I said, I’ve always been the one handling all the technical details. But then I realized he was right. My sisters were adults, my sister-in-law had been part of the family for ten years, they could handle it. Someone else could step up to coordinate the details. Why was it always me, anyway?

“I’ll arrange the menu,” I decided. “Not too difficult, basically a copy-paste from last year, we’ll change up the salads and desserts a little, but the outline can be the same. And I’ll leave planning the program to some of the others.”

There was a surprised pause on our sisters Whatsapp chat when I made the announcement, but then eventually Esther Leah posted Sure, no problem. Sara wanted to know what was involved in the program, and Baily wrote back Like the games, kids’ show on Friday, stuff like that.

Chaya, the only sister-in-law, begged off. She held down a high-pressure job, had a bunch of little kids, and was due at the end of August. But my sisters seemed perfectly at ease with the idea — maybe a little too much.

Maybe there should be one person in charge, just to oversee that everything gets done, I messaged, hoping it came across tactful. I had experience with this sort of thing; a group effort generally meant everyone expecting someone else to get the job done, and nothing actually happening. There was a bit more back-and-forth (Sara: I think it’ll be fine, we’ll work on it together) but eventually Baily offered to take responsibility.

But don’t worry!!! We’ll all pitch in, Esther Leah wrote hastily.

Yeah, it’ll be fun, Sara added.

I closed the chat, feeling some of the tension slip away. Now that the program was off my head, they could have all the fun they wanted.