It’s that time again! That time between Thanksgiving and
Christmas (or between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, sometimes), when I write
about the annual Ornie Competition in which we participate. For those new to
the blog: Years ago, Jeff’s stepfather began a tradition with his family. Each
person picked or made an ornament to represent his or her year. On Thanksgiving
Day, all the ornaments were presented, and a winner was chosen. The tradition
has continued for decades, since Jeff’s stepsiblings were children. We began
participating in 2006, the year we married. This year was no different: Jeff,
Alexa, and I each picked an ornament to represent our years, and we presented
them to the family via video chat on Thanksgiving Day.
So what were the themes of our years? And what ornaments
best represented those themes?
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| Alexa's 2015 Ornament: The Glove Balloon |
Alexa’s social development took off this year. She’s always
been shy and anxious, with no apparent desire to spend time with other
children. Even when she did want to play with other kids, she wanted more to
stay safely by my side. That’s how she was at the beginning of this year: she
stayed with me rather than going off to play with other kids, even other kids
with whom she’d interacted regularly for almost two years, even other kids that
she called her friends.
Then out of nowhere, she changed. Suddenly she could not get
enough playing with other kids. She didn’t need me to be there with her
anymore. She happily stayed in Sunday school classes with complete strangers
while we were in the States over the summer. She barely said goodbye to us
before she was off and engaged in whatever activity was ongoing. She cried, not
when we left her, but when we returned to take her with us. The one thing she
wanted from our new home in Greece: the opportunity to play with other kids. No
parents required or wanted, just kids.
And through it all, her obsession with all things Disney
remained.
Of course the perfect ornament for her was from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse—how could her
perfect ornament not be Disney? This year’s version was the glove balloon,
floating off with a basket full of friends. It represents Alexa’s newfound
desire to go off with friends, her interest in adventures, her need for
similarly aged friends. It represents that our little girl is ready to fly off
with her friends and leave us behind, at least as much as a 5-year-old can be.
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| Jeff's 2015 Ornament: The TARDIS |
Jeff’s ornament also is from a TV series, though not one
owned by Disney. Over the past few years, he and I have become a bit obsessed
with the BBC show Dr. Who. Although
it’s growing in popularity in the States, many Americans aren’t familiar with
it yet, so here’s the basic rundown: The Doctor is a Time Lord, a master of
time and space. He travels wherever—and whenever—he wants to go in his TARDIS,
which appears in the form of a blue police box. (It’s actually bigger on the
inside, though.) The Doctor is the last of the Time Lords, but it’s very bad
for him to be alone. Because of his abilities and his intellect, he tends to
divorce himself from normal emotional experiences, which can result in rather
psychopathic tendencies. In order to keep himself grounded, to remind himself
of what real life is all about, he tends to travel with a companion, a human
woman whose innocent delight and adventurous spirit reminds him to take joy in
life, to be more human himself than he otherwise would be.
Jeff does not travel through time, and his travels through
space are much more limited than The Doctor’s. However, like The Doctor, he
travels from place to place doing work that is important enough that it
sometimes threatens to consume him. He said that his ornament this year is in
recognition that, like The Doctor, he needs companions to remind him of why he
does what he does and to inspire him to enjoy his life rather than allow his
work to consume him. He has found his companions in Lexa and me.
His ornament this year is a replica of the TARDIS.
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| Deborah's 2015 Ornament: Inside Out |
For my own ornament, I’ll tell the story much like I planned
to tell it during the competition. (It didn’t come out exactly like this,
because things never do when speaking without notes!)
I am a member of three online communities. One is a diverse
homeschool community, where most members are homeschoolers, and most members
live in their home countries—for most of them, it’s the United States. The other
two communities are expat groups—one mostly Christian missionaries, the other
Foreign Service personnel and their families. I first heard about the Disney
movie Inside Out from these three
online groups.
At first, I heard only wonderful things about the movie.
Members of both expat groups raved about how amazing the movie was. It captures
the experience of moving, it provides a vocabulary for discussing the emotional
realities of expat life with our kids, it explores the purpose of those
troubling emotions like sadness. It’s a must-see movie, a deeply emotional
experience that had moms crying in the theater and kids making connections
between their experiences and their emotions like never before. And in addition
to all that relevance, it’s a fun movie too!
Then someone on the homeschool group mentioned the movie.
The reaction was almost completely uniform: Disney missed the mark on this one.
This movie is boring. They tried to make it relevant instead of fun, and made
it neither. Don’t even waste your time on this movie.
Of course I was eager to see the movie myself, to see which
camp I would fall in. I finally had the opportunity this summer, while we were
on our Disney cruise. And I was blown away. I am not ashamed to admit that I
sat in the Walt Disney Theatre, aboard the Disney
Dream, with tears running down my face as I watched a young girl go through
the emotional upheaval of a cross-country move. The analogies weren’t perfect,
but I recognized my experiences in
this movie—and just as importantly, I felt like my experiences were recognized by the movie.
I’m not certain if I would have loved this movie as much as
I do if it had been released last year, or next year. All of the emotions
associated with a move are close to the surface for me right now; they have
been all year. The sadness of saying goodbye. The optimism that the next place
will be good, too. The difficulty of holding on to that optimism when faced
with difficulty after difficulty, both expected and unexpected. The desire to
give up and run back to where you were … and the recognition that where you
were doesn’t really exist anymore, at least not in the way it did when you were
there. And eventually, the contentment that comes when you’ve made the new
place your home. (I’m not there yet, but I’ve done this enough to know I’ll get
there.)
Inside Out is
definitely the theme of my year. But more than that, it’s the theme of my last
7 years. It’s the theme of my life as a global nomad.
Previous Posts About The Ornie Competition:
A Family Tradition (2008)
Our Year In Ornaments (2011)
Oh how I love this post, Deborah! I remember you talking about this last year when I talked about Christmas trees, and I loved reading this year's update :)
ReplyDeleteI don't know Dr Who, but I love your description of yourself and your daughter as the anchors for your brainy husband. How cool is that.
And I love your reflections on Inside Out! I'm one of the people who loved it -- and can't imagine it being boring! "The recognition that where you were doesn’t really exist anymore, at least not in the way it did when you were there" -- YES. That's what "Painting Pictures of Egypt" was all about (and which I'm SO glad you liked!).
I also really loved this part: "And eventually, the contentment that comes when you’ve made the new place your home. (I’m not there yet, but I’ve done this enough to know I’ll get there.)" Love that you know it will come, even when you're not feeling it yet. Faith for the future, based on His faithfulness in the past. Love it. :)