On owning traditions

Holidays. There are national traditions. There are family traditions. Easy to follow, and as easy to love as they are to hate. Then you move to another country, that has different traditions. And your own country changes at the same time — in ways that are so important, albeit painful.

I come from Ukraine. I was born in the USSR. First, there was no Christmas. Only New Year’s traditions: exchange of gifts (Ded Moroz bringing you presents under the New Year’s Tree), staying up late, champagne at midnight (for adults), salads that have nothing green in them but a lot of mayo. Then, there was Christmas, in January, which was also my birthday, and since my family was not quite religious, it was only semi-celebrated. Traditional food, that’s it. Now, Ukraine celebrates Christmas on both 25th of December and on the 7th of January. But I’m not in Ukraine anymore. And holiday traditions are very tied to children. Being a parent, I feel it makes sense to conform to the cadence of gifting and to adopt some of the traditions of the country I’m in and more international. So, gifts and Santa Claus on Christmas, in December. Local food traditions too, but also, inherited family and country traditions from my childhood.

People who find themselves in a similar situation, have to make choices: when is the main gift giving? Do you spread presents across multiple dates, or consolidate in one? What do you want to cook? How do you want to celebrate, and what exactly?

This is the time when we can decide, and choose, what holiday traditions look like for our children. And we can create something unique for them — recognizing the traditions of the locality, and letting ourselves be fascinated by them, and participate in them. But also — choosing what to pass on from our ancestors; and also — what to create ourselves. With so many dogmas crumbling in my lifetime, so many things to which I opened my eyes, so many lies that history uncovered, with the world that has grown so much bigger — I feel the power to create a better narrative for my child. I finally feel the freedom not only in my would, but also the freedom to choose, and, more importantly, to build build traditions, based not just on the history, but also on the values.

The way she learns

Watching kids learn is so insightful. My four-year-old has picked up a longboard (my longboard, or something formerly known as mine). The way she tries to ride is so interesting. There is absolutely no stress about mastering the skill. She looks at what I do, she listens to my advice — sometimes she follows it, sometimes she doesn’t.

There’s absolutely no pressure. She holds my hand — one foot on the board, the other one pushing. She then steps with the second foot, and waits for the board to stop. She tries to do the same by herself a few times, succeeds. Then goes back to holding my hand. Then, after a bit, she sits on the board and pushes with both feet. Or she runs around, carrying the board, “looking for a place to start”. Then she tries again.

My instructions are often redundant, because what I have in mind is very different from what she’s doing. While I’m thinking in terms of “how do I learn this”, along with “how do I get past the embarrassment of not being able to do this well”, she is playing. She is not concerned with the looks, or with the mastery. She is simply having fun.

And I bet, with an approach like that, kids learn better than adults.

Got anything?

Every day I pick her up from daycare, she asks, “Have you got anything for me?” and often, “What is it? What do you have for me?”

I’m her drug dealer.

(Of course I’m her drug dealer, I give her chocolates in doses that are far from homeopathic. Highly addictive at the age of four.)

Who the fun is for, and how to do it well

Seth Godin wrote on his blog, making a comparison between birthday parties thrown for very young kids (who don’t yet care about parties) and many of our interactions in adult life:

It’s pretty clear that it wasn’t for you. It was for your parents and their circle of supporters and friends. A rite of passage and thanks and relief, all in one.

Many of the interactions we have that are ostensibly for us are actually for other people. Once we can see who it’s for, it’s a lot easier to do it well.

With my kid’s birthday last week, I’m taking it very literally, of course. She turned four, the first time birthday meant something, really.

With COVID taking out the fun of social interaction, I have to ask myself, what are the elements of birthday fun that really matter, in the time when you can’t have all the normal that you otherwise would.

Rethinking and reformatting holidays and vacations is a big agenda while the pandemic imposes its limitations. Are vacations still vacations without travel?

Disco for three, with DJ and glow sticks. Trick or treating within your own home (treasure hunt now)… Just remember who you are doing it for, and do it well.

Being a parent

I spent time with her today. Not a lot as I was diving in meetings the moment we came home. But then we played with a balloon, and we both were so happy. And we made some postcards.

This is what works. Having time to spend with her. Really pay attention and enjoy. It’s not always enjoyable. But it is when I forget about all the other things I could have been doing instead of playing with my kid.

Seriously, one thing that works for me is having fewer obligations and things that I need to do in a day. Having enough time for her without depriving myself of the time for me. And I need both. When I have alone time, i am a better parent.