This past weekend was my first foray as a parent, along with Summer and now one year old Miles, into what is known as a catered family-friendly event. As a virgin, all the idiosyncratic and unique rhythms of the night definitely stood out to me, think telephone pole in the Sahara desert.
Parents watching children, children watching children, parents watching parents and children watching parents-the dynamics of these intricate relations could fill pages or shelves of commentary all under the psychology banner or perhaps Mystery genre or self-help section at the local library.
Although the event was a Winter’s Eve Holiday celebration, I couldn’t get the image of balloons (think birthday) out of my head. I’m not exactly sure why, but perhaps it was due to the physique of some of the adults who appeared more like half-inflated balloons drooping under antiquated Santa sweaters and winter scarves. Or perhaps it was from the ecstatic energy of all the kids bouncing like taut helium balloons pressing the ceiling in hopes for escape.
Parental styles wore out like a fashion show, the good, the bad and the balloney. Some were quicker at correcting and constantly adjusting every twist and turn of their unique little star, while others gleefully watched their gem glitter down the catwalk, cheering every step and stumble along the way.
I was confused at eye-level. Do I look at my own kid, the other kids, the other kids’ parent, the other kids’ parents looking at other kids' parents?..at times I caught myself blindly starring at the mechanical Santa moving back and forth in rotation.
Onward to the holiday arts and crafts section of the evening. Like the innocent fellow at the restaurant who states he isn’t hungry but proceeds to pick a pickle from this plate, a fry from that one, a sip here and a slice there, the ol ‘in but not of’ approach. That was me at the make a Frosty the Snowman holiday gift-bag table: Do I put the nose on the bag? Does Miles? Do I make my own ornaments and if so, do I order up the works or go for the pick and dabble strategy??
Being virgins at this family event and playing the role of the unsuspected tourist-we definitely embodied the spirit of Christmas present. Those saggy, drawn-out, lazy glances and less than perky attires filled the spirit of Christmas past. While those dear little ones, not yet old enough to read, crowding around this year’s orator of ancient tales, loaded with questions, comments, excitement, energy, emotions, cookies and sugar all vying for that exact moment of space and time-impregnating each and every second-ready to burst-they are the spirit of Christmas future.
I have to say, funneling out of Glen Echo that night we all felt buoyant and high despite the torrent rain.
