My sweet middle sister hosted Fall Family Fun Day this year. What is this event, you ask? Well, dear reader, it is a totally fabricated holiday celebrated annually by the Ross Clan. FFFD was the brain child of my sisters and I years ago, when my big kids were very little. I'm not sure exactly what spawned the idea but it grew to an EVENT, that rivals Christmas in the hearts of my children, and family. Family is always invited, friends, and friends of friends are welcome; it is a whole day affair. Amanda said this year there were over 50 in attendance. Over the years we've had:
-pumpkin decorating
gourd bowling
apple bobbing
carmel apple decorating
football matches
face painting
pumpkin seed spitting contests
pumpkin carving contests
and lots, and lots of food (brunch and then mid afternoon a chili cook-off)
Great grandma rocking babies, new ones every year, it seems.
Last year we missed FFFD, as we were just surviving a cross country move. We had no friends or family to celebrate with; it was sad.
This year, gratefully, we do have people we know and love that we COULD invite to celebrate with us. But I am hesitant to pull of such an event without my sisters, and mom and dad to help make it happen. FFFD is awesome, but I wonder if it is as awesome without the family part? I wonder if the world at large will "get" this fictitious holiday?
This year :
-my mom fought breast cancer.
-My dad is God knows where. (Anytime there is news of new uprising in the Middle East I say to myself, "Oh, Crap, is Dad in Cairo, or Beruit, or the West Bank?" But that is a post for another day...)
My baby sister lives a country away, in New Jersey, of all places....
My middle sister hosted Fall Family Fun Day without us. I'm glad she did, but it is triggering a bout of homesickness.
And seasons change...this year there is no Thanksmas with the Wood Grandparents, or FFFD in Littleton at Dad's. I am thankful for the season that was; it was rich with family, and I am learning to press into where God has us now. It is good. It is good. It is good. Just different.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Posted with Blogsy
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Cognitive Dissonance, Baby
We're, just now, planning a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth. It's an American child's right of passage to pose for a picture in front of a gigantic fake castle with a gigantic fake mouse. True?
And yet, I am keenly aware that "happy" isn't reality for many.
A friend received an awful diagnosis.
My mom-in-law is trying to stitch together a world that works for a boy who is living through stuff that would make anyone threadbare.
There are babies in Haiti, and Alemeda County, and everywhere that are just now, as we plan our vacation, experiencing the neglect that leads to attachment disorders. And, dammit, I keep bumping up against the truth of it when I'd rather forget.
The very going to Disneyland is an irony, actually. I'm trying to decide if we need to get a "guest assistance pass" for our littlest since her's are invisible disability. The sensory overload and transitions could be unmanageable without accommodation. But we accommodate so well, and she CAN behave so typically that I'm afraid that people will think we are just cutting in line. So I thought...I'll just get her one of those t-shirts like the kids with autism get, so people won't judgeme us if there is a melt-down. You know the ones that say, "I'm not being naughty, I have autism." - or whatever. I don't think this dilemma would exist if the Mouse could truly deliver utopia. The happiest place on earth is still a broken place.
Tangent: So is giving a kid a t-shirt that spells out her diagnosis to random strangers just totally jacked, or only a little jacked? The fact is that when they see her "behaviors" they are already labeling her (bratty), but the t-shirt would at least give the correct label, right? K. Probably jacked. And I'm probably wanting to go the whole t-shirt route because I want for people to think I have it together-ish. Which is pretty lame. Tangent finished.
So the cognitive dissonance is wrapped around the idea that I shouldn't really be spending money on vacation when the world is broken. I should be doing something about the brokeness, like beyond Space Mountain. Or, at least, we should be using the money to buy new tires, and put some into a 401k. Disney is so playful and frivolous and exorbitant and I am a grown up...
But the world is broken. And I have this little tiny window to lean into where I am - with these 4, and this man. We are within a days drive to vacation central. We are buying a memory, and investing in relationships. And these are the good things in the broken. So we will celebrate them. There is no dissonance in that. It is a chord resolved. Intentionally, we fuel relationships so that we have the relational capital to influence our children to see a world beyond themselves. And the venue of choice happens to have an animated human-sized rodent as it's mascot. This makes sense, people, it does.
And yet, I am keenly aware that "happy" isn't reality for many.
A friend received an awful diagnosis.
My mom-in-law is trying to stitch together a world that works for a boy who is living through stuff that would make anyone threadbare.
There are babies in Haiti, and Alemeda County, and everywhere that are just now, as we plan our vacation, experiencing the neglect that leads to attachment disorders. And, dammit, I keep bumping up against the truth of it when I'd rather forget.
The very going to Disneyland is an irony, actually. I'm trying to decide if we need to get a "guest assistance pass" for our littlest since her's are invisible disability. The sensory overload and transitions could be unmanageable without accommodation. But we accommodate so well, and she CAN behave so typically that I'm afraid that people will think we are just cutting in line. So I thought...I'll just get her one of those t-shirts like the kids with autism get, so people won't judge
Tangent: So is giving a kid a t-shirt that spells out her diagnosis to random strangers just totally jacked, or only a little jacked? The fact is that when they see her "behaviors" they are already labeling her (bratty), but the t-shirt would at least give the correct label, right? K. Probably jacked. And I'm probably wanting to go the whole t-shirt route because I want for people to think I have it together-ish. Which is pretty lame. Tangent finished.
So the cognitive dissonance is wrapped around the idea that I shouldn't really be spending money on vacation when the world is broken. I should be doing something about the brokeness, like beyond Space Mountain. Or, at least, we should be using the money to buy new tires, and put some into a 401k. Disney is so playful and frivolous and exorbitant and I am a grown up...
But the world is broken. And I have this little tiny window to lean into where I am - with these 4, and this man. We are within a days drive to vacation central. We are buying a memory, and investing in relationships. And these are the good things in the broken. So we will celebrate them. There is no dissonance in that. It is a chord resolved. Intentionally, we fuel relationships so that we have the relational capital to influence our children to see a world beyond themselves. And the venue of choice happens to have an animated human-sized rodent as it's mascot. This makes sense, people, it does.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)