For fifteen days before and after Christmas, my family did not once
sit down to a meal together at our house, just us. Party, party, party,
was all we did. And at those parties, we ate and ate and ate.
I noticed, in the midst of the chaos, that all the kids were talking about Djibouti more than normal. Lucy sang about it, simply repeating the word “Djibouti” in various tunes for more than ten minutes. Henry and Maggie didn’t resort to musical musings, but they did ask about home daily and mentioned their friends and our African holiday traditions.
I wondered what was triggering this increased homesick/nostalgic behavior and I think I figured it out, at least partly.
My kids are Third Culture Kids.
I see this deepening reality on almost a daily basis. What it meant for us at Christmas time was that while everything we did was fun and exciting, it was all new and lacked depth and meaning to the kids.
Tom and I have memories of cutting down Christmas trees and have missed doing that for nine years. So cutting down a Christmas tree was hilarious because of all the other times cutting down a Christmas tree was hilarious. Because of all the memories attached to it. Going to the display at Macy’s downtown and watching the Hollidazzle parade was fun because I marched in that parade many times and because we went to the Macy’s display every single year when I was a kid.
It was fun now because it had been fun before. Doing the same, traditional things, bears weight because each year adds a fresh aspect to the memories.
For Henry, Maggie, and Lucy, it was merely fun.
That’s not a bad thing, just an interesting thing. They had a blast, but they missed their own childhood experiences. They missed doing the things that say, “Christmas” to them. They missed the chance to add a fresh aspect to their memories.
What are those traditions? What says Christmas to our kids?
Christmas Eve services in French where we sweat through all our clothes and listen to the Malagasie and Ethiopian choir sing in their own languages. Christmas lunch or dinner at the US military base, Camp Lemonier. Sometimes that includes the kids singing carols or performing a pageant for the soldiers who are without their families on the holiday. Visiting the blow-up snowman and authentic gingerbread house at the Kempinski Hotel. Getting cotton candy and notebooks from the barefoot Santa at a French grocery store. Going to the beach on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, to camp out under the stars and swim with whale sharks.
I confess we didn’t do any of those things this Christmas.
So, while we had a wonderful Christmas, the holiday season and celebrations made all the kids turn their hearts toward ‘home’ with new intensity for a few days.
Original post at http://www.djiboutijones.com/2012/01/third-culture-kid-christmas/
I noticed, in the midst of the chaos, that all the kids were talking about Djibouti more than normal. Lucy sang about it, simply repeating the word “Djibouti” in various tunes for more than ten minutes. Henry and Maggie didn’t resort to musical musings, but they did ask about home daily and mentioned their friends and our African holiday traditions.
I wondered what was triggering this increased homesick/nostalgic behavior and I think I figured it out, at least partly.
My kids are Third Culture Kids.
I see this deepening reality on almost a daily basis. What it meant for us at Christmas time was that while everything we did was fun and exciting, it was all new and lacked depth and meaning to the kids.
Tom and I have memories of cutting down Christmas trees and have missed doing that for nine years. So cutting down a Christmas tree was hilarious because of all the other times cutting down a Christmas tree was hilarious. Because of all the memories attached to it. Going to the display at Macy’s downtown and watching the Hollidazzle parade was fun because I marched in that parade many times and because we went to the Macy’s display every single year when I was a kid.
It was fun now because it had been fun before. Doing the same, traditional things, bears weight because each year adds a fresh aspect to the memories.
For Henry, Maggie, and Lucy, it was merely fun.
That’s not a bad thing, just an interesting thing. They had a blast, but they missed their own childhood experiences. They missed doing the things that say, “Christmas” to them. They missed the chance to add a fresh aspect to their memories.
What are those traditions? What says Christmas to our kids?
Christmas Eve services in French where we sweat through all our clothes and listen to the Malagasie and Ethiopian choir sing in their own languages. Christmas lunch or dinner at the US military base, Camp Lemonier. Sometimes that includes the kids singing carols or performing a pageant for the soldiers who are without their families on the holiday. Visiting the blow-up snowman and authentic gingerbread house at the Kempinski Hotel. Getting cotton candy and notebooks from the barefoot Santa at a French grocery store. Going to the beach on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, to camp out under the stars and swim with whale sharks.
I confess we didn’t do any of those things this Christmas.
So, while we had a wonderful Christmas, the holiday season and celebrations made all the kids turn their hearts toward ‘home’ with new intensity for a few days.
Original post at http://www.djiboutijones.com/2012/01/third-culture-kid-christmas/
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