Legacy

It's funny how my moods seem tied to the liturgical year - or maybe it's the weather patterns that seem to reflect the liturgical year. Nonetheless, each time this year as Lent gets underway, I find myself in a contemplative, pensive mood. This year is no different. News the past week has been hard. We learned of a life gone too soon after a freak car accident, politics are flat out painful to watch, and we're walking alongside our preteen and watching seeds of insecurity creep in. That's a hard walk as a parent; shepherding your children through the same waters of self-doubt and self-consciousness that I waded at the ages of 11-13 awakens those long-latent adolescent insecurities that surprisingly still live inside my almost 40 year old self. It's hard to let our kids swim through the hard emotions too. I want to take them away and make everything sunny and bright. Alas - we live in the Pacific Northwest and even the weather won't help me make that happen.

Turns out, truth can't let that happen either. If we've learned anything on this grand adventure, it's that telling the truth really does set you free. It's unsettling at times, but heaven knows - you never go wrong with honesty. Today's truth for my 11 year old is that sometimes it is hard. Sometimes your friends are better than you are at something. Sometimes you won't make the team. Sometimes people are mean. It's almost harder for me to own these truths than it is to have traditionally difficult conversations because these truths speak to my own failings. These truths remind me that sometimes I've been mean, sometimes I've made a friend feel 'less than' and these truths remind of times I've felt sorry.

Lately, I've been wrestling with the number of people I've encountered who've been hurt by the church and the times I felt hurt by an institution that is so much a part of who I am. It's hard for me to name the truth - but what I've realized is there are many times when we Christians climb up on our high horses and, frankly, get a bit uppity about our own importance. I've heard stories of folks being told they are 'less than' because of their doubt, because of their beliefs, because of who they are. It's embarrassing. And it's made me sometimes shrink away from identifying myself as Christian...and has made me say it in an apologetic way, not a self-identifying way. That kind of realization rocks me to the core and makes me empathetic to Peter in his triple denial.

My latest wondering has been about what this means for the legacy I'm building. My *hope* is that those I love most, those who know my truest self, know I try. I don't always get it right, but I really do try. And when I realize I've botched it, I try to make it right. I apologize and admit where I went wrong. Truth-telling. When our kids ask us hard questions, we're honest. We've lost the need to sugarcoat the truth, because, truth just is. There aren't versions of it. And truth means  admitting that we don't have it all together, that we have strengths and weaknesses, confidence and insecurity. Looking back, that's what I hated about adolescence - learning to admit that all of me is made up of dichotomies living in tension with one another. It's hard truth to accept and the acceptance comes in waves - if we did it all at once I don't know if anyone would survive. My Lenten practice this year is swimming alongside my children in the murky waters of self-acceptance and forcing myself not go ahead to make the path easy, but to be present through the rough and still waters - their safe place to find rest. I will remind them along the way that there's always hope, rebirth and a new day dawning; that they are worthy, lovely people who are 'becoming'. I'll also remind them that I'm still 'becoming' and that we're in it together - building legacy is a group effort. May we all do each other proud.

City Mouse vs. Country Mouse

I started writing this post while I sat in a ski lodge with snow falling behind me while the kids and Philip took on the slopes celebrating 30cm of fresh snow. Lately, the contrast of our lives in SC and our lives here has been more 'in my face' and made me hearken back to a story we read in elementary school about mouse cousins who were from the city and country respectively. It's funny to have a foot in both worlds. I re-read the story this morning (thank you Google) and its moral:

A modest life with peace and quiet is better than a richly one with danger and strife. (http://www.storyit.com/Classics/Stories/citycountrymouse.htm)
Agreed.

There are days we deeply miss the small-town life we lived in SC, but we truly love our current city life - that we enjoy the free from danger and strife [a bit different than those mouse cousins]. We just got back from Las Vegas - what a funny place it is - and I chuckle when thinking about how those mouse cousins would have navigated a visit to Vegas. If we still lived in SC, I don't know that we'd have even considered Vegas a family destination - its reputation precedes it. But after living in a city where our children have grown up a lot faster in some respects while retaining far more of their childhoods in others, it didn't seem a crazy idea. Perhaps it's not as much that our children are growing up quickly, but that Philip and I are growing up a bit as parents. Living in this densely populated place with so many different cultures and living circumstances dancing together has forced us, as parents, to learn how to converse with our kids in a more honest, head-on way. Our perspective has changed - we don't seek to 'protect' our children from seeing hard sights as much anymore. We can't - sometimes you see things from your breakfast room window (http://themarcumsincanadaeh.blogspot.ca/2014/04/the-birds-and-bees-oh-my.html) or a drug deal happen under a bridge and sometimes you chat with those who live on sidewalks outside your building. Instead, now we name hard things, we discuss them and frame them within our family's own value structure and we talk about how choices, circumstances, and access can lead to different realities. Philip and I have had to find our own voices and dig deep into our own bravery to have some of these conversations. We've discovered though, at the end of the day, we're deeply grateful for the opportunity to help our children think through hard things i.e. drug use, sex, homelessness, mental illness, etc. under our protective care - living up to our promises to always answer their questions and to tell the truth - even when it's not entirely comfortable or easy for us. 

Wheels up! By the skin of our teeth...

So began our Vegas vacation. We drove across the border and spent the night in Bellingham, Washington, before our 8:30AM flight the following morning - so we thought. The morning of our flight was a near disaster. We had organized ourselves brilliantly - pre-ordered breakfast to be delivered at 6AM, packed PJs in backpacks so big bags didn't have to be unpacked, wakeup call scheduled for 5AM. Breakfast was 30 minutes late arriving, it took 20 minutes to check out of the hotel, we arrived at the airport at 7:30AM and learned our flight was actually at 8AM. So much for brilliant organization. Nonetheless, we made the flight and landed at McCarran Airport at 10:15AM. Immediately upon stepping off the plane we were greeted with the blinky blinky ring-a-dings of slot machines. The kids got a kick out of them and begged us to play. Philip fed in $1 as the kids and I stayed just outside the 'cone of gaming' so as not to be fined $10,000 per kid for being inside it. Philip turned that $1 into $.22! We moved on.

We grabbed our luggage, hopped in a cab and asked our driver to take us to the famous Las Vegas sign - we took our obligatory pictures and were off to the Trump Hotel. At this point, it's important to explain that we chose the Trump for a variety of reasons - none of which had ANYTHING to do with advocating for his candidacy for President. This was NOT a campaign endorsement. The property is smoke free and doesn't have a casino in it and it was free - so there you have it. Funny that the Trump property spoke to us as 'family friendly' - oh, the irony. Our room was ready, we dropped our bags and headed out to hit the Strip. The kids' eyes were wide as we meandered through Wynn with all of its sculptures made from live flowers. Las Vegas is indeed over the top. After lunch we continued our foot journey through Greece, Italy and France - all of which happened to be accented with blinky blinky, ring-a-ding casinos - and those aren't smoke-free. Even through burning eyes we couldn't unsee the women 'dressed' in pasties and large headdresses posing for $1 photos with tourists. Nor could we unsee the police 'officers' in fishnet stockings. So began our first 'big kid pants' parental conversations: why we won't pay someone to take a picture with us simply because they're shocking leading into instructions to find police officers in actual uniforms, not fishnets, should you ever get separated from the family. The most interesting piece of our conversation was our children commenting on how the girl wearing pasties really needed to eat a couple of hamburgers because she looked unhealthily thin. This all took place before 4PM. 

Making a wish in the Bellagio fountain

Kids are pretty observant it. Henry commented on how people in different areas of the Strip looked different. Interestingly, Las Vegas seems to be a place where worlds collide; where the land of misfit toys smashes right into the land of beautiful people. When those collisions get to be too much to process, thankfully there are plenty of places to buy chocolate. To the M&M store we went! Four stories of pure chocolate-y sugar overload meant temporary sanctuary from grown up parental conversations. The smell alone was intoxicating. We left with an obscene amount of candy coated chocolate goodness and each kid ended up with an M&M blanket (I mean what could be more comforting than that?). A quick stop at the hotel to drop off our chocolate loot and across the street to Fashion Show Mall we went. Both kids had been saving money to take along on the trip and it turned out American Girl had a seasonal store and Lego had its own storefront just across the street from our hotel. Lydia and Henry thought they'd hit the mother load! The cruelest reality, however, came when Philip and I declared that Legos and AG purchases had to wait until we landed back in Vancouver to be opened. It worked out well, however, because everybody was excited to get home since the trip continued even on our living room floor as dolls discovered a new school locker and Star Wars legos were constructed. Bedtime was welcome that first night in Vegas as our 5AM wakeup hit pretty hard - the lights of the Strip made a lovely nightlight.

Wynn - floral carousel

Floral Hot-air balloon - Oh My Word!

 Happy Year of the Monkey! See no Evil and Hear no Evil in tow

Henry used to sing the "Popeye" theme song as a little guy. This was a fun find that brought back sweet memories.

Lunar New Year Exhibition - The Palazzo

Human Statues in The Venetian - shocking! :) 

Happy Year of the Monkey from the Bellagio Conservatory

View of Paris from the Bellagio

Preparation for football season! Orange/Purple M&Ms for our Clemson Tigers and Red/Black/Grey (aka Darth Vadar mix) for the Georgia Bulldogs!

Our second morning was more low key and we were pretty quiet until lunchtime. We lunched at Treasure Island overlooking pirate ships and drinking in the sunshine. We walked and walked (averaging almost 7 miles each day - thank you, Vancouver, for preparing us mightily) and made our way to The Mirage where we ventured into Sigfried and Roy's Secret Garden. There we saw dolphins, lions, tigers and a leopard. The biggest treat was running into Sigfried himself - he magically found a golden coin up Lydia's sleeve (and I bought Henry one in the gift shop to match - because, equality). There's something sensational about running into a legend - I tried to get the security guard to admit we were really lucky to see Sigfried, but he assured me that he visits almost daily. Oh well - it was special for us, regardless. We moved on to Caesar's Palace where we got a glimpse of another legend - Dick Butkus was signing autographs but the store manager wouldn't let our aspiring football star shake Butkus' hand without a purchase from the shop. Silliness - we took a photo anyway. The kids then got their fortune told by Zoltar himself - a la Tom Hanks in Big. Thankfully neither of our kids grew into their thirty year old selves overnight. We watched the 'Fall of Atlantis' as told by moving statues with a fire-y sword, fountains, smoke and a dragon. It was intense - but helped drive home the message that arguments between siblings often don't end well. After all, Atlantis disappeared because a brother and sister couldn't work together to rule the kingdom - helpful object lesson for our two.

Can't hit Vegas without a little limo time

Lunch at Gilley's

Sigfriend in his Secret Garden

Secret Garden cont'd.

The Mirage

Our sneaky pic of Dick Butkus

The Cosmopolitan

And...WHY isn't there a bar named "The Lydia?" No fair for Henry to get sole billing.


While we were growing increasingly weary, we were determined to squeeze every minute out of our time in Sin City. I had done hours of research preparing for our trip to make sure we didn't miss anything. Every search I explored online led with the words 'family friendly'. Our second night in Vegas proved that my definition of 'family friendly' is far different from many a blogger covering the topic. We made our way to the Bellagio, hopped in the cab line and struck out for Fremont Street ("old Vegas"). I was really looking forward to it and had built it up in my mind as a potential highlight; alas, it was re-framed as 'most memorable' but not necessarily a favorite. We were actually on Fremont Street proper for approximately 7 minutes total - long enough to walk from the cab into Binion's to see $1M in cash (and NOT take a photo lest we be fined $10K/kid since it was apparently inside the cone of gaming - Lydia was very disappointed), head to the classic Golden Nugget for a buffet dinner (which was the equivalent of Ryan's Steakhouse) and then walk back to find a cab. In those fateful 7 minutes, we saw one overweight over-middle-aged man with scraggly hair in a thong/suspenders, another overweight over-middle-aged man in a speedo playing guitar and a man who'd been born with a arm deformity playing drums from fingers that seemed to grow directly from his shoulders. The only grown up conversation Philip and I could muster was a heartfelt apology as we hailed a cab to head back to the hotel. Back in the comfort of our own room, we all piled in the bed together and watched a movie and enjoyed some introverting as a family.

 
Vegas Vic and Vickie (the only photos I took on Fremont Street)

Wait. WHAT did I just see???

Day three dawned and we boarded the shuttle to Caesar's with tired but refreshed legs and made our way to the Luxor (pyramid) to explore the Bodies exhibit. We wandered past NY, NY, through Excalibur and into the heart of the pyramid to marvel at the construction of the human body - from skeleton to muscles to organs. It was very fascinating - albeit a bit shocking for Lydia. Philip and I were impressed with Henry's explanation of the digestive system as they've been studying it in school. We learned a lot, too! Did you know that our tongue has 16 muscles in it? I mean, really!?!? Then off to Mandalay Bay for lunch at an Irish Pub followed, supposedly, by the aquarium. Alas - the line was miles long and we decided we'd prefer to play in the outdoor heated pool at the hotel instead because when was the last time we Canadian residents swam outside in February? As we ventured back to the shuttle drop-off we explored New York, New York, beginning first with the Hershey Store where we were greeted by the Statue of Liberty constructed entirely of Twizzlers. Since we'd already filled our stores with chocolate from M&M, both kids chose a small assortment of Jolly Ranchers from Hershey and away we went. 

Blue sky, sunshine and NYC!

Game face on! Mandalay Bay

Start spreadin' the news...

Twizzlers Statue of Liberty

   Silly store - fun chair

Pool time was a welcome respite from the extroversion of Vegas. It was truly a little oasis in the desert - quiet, warm, breezy, restful. We played in the pool, relaxed in the hot tub and rested on the chaise loungers. After our brief time of renewal, we got ready for our final dinner - off to Planet Hollywood. We had a nice Italian dinner before seeing a classic Vegas variety show. The show opened with a comedic juggler (who happened to be a 5th generation circus performer) followed by the Amazing Gauchos who drummed, danced and swung whips knocking a flower out of a reluctant volunteer's mouth. Then a contortionist made us hurt all over; he was followed by an aerial act a la Cirque de Soleil and a group who parodied The Village People using their hands as feet while 'hopping' around on yoga balls. A man called up 4 unsuspecting volunteers, costumed them in masks and goaded them into a contest to blow up 3 balloons and pop them as quickly as possible. I laughed until I cried. The grand finale was a pair of folks on roller skates (yes - roller skates) who performed acrobatic feats on a 5' diameter platform. The comedic juggler interjected between each act and finished by playing Fur Elise on an electronic keyboard (another Big reference - seems it was a recurring theme) with juggling balls. It was a classic end to our time in Vegas. 

Before the show - Isabelle had to come too!

We made our way to the airport - ready to be home, quite honestly - and the kids marked the end of the trip with a grand finale meal at Moe's in McCarran Airport. We talked about our most memorable parts of the trip (Fremont Street), our favorite parts (Lydia reported the hotel was her favorite - the TV in the bathroom mirror pushed it to the top of her list; Henry's favorite was Caesar's Palace), and our final impressions of the city itself. We decided that it's a city that, from a distance, is sparkly and shiny and exciting and hopeful. However, once you get up close it has a kind of sadness to it. We all felt the sense of colliding worlds and a litany of dichotomies that live in tension with one another in this funny little place that pops up in the desert. In some ways it's a place where dreams come true - where famous people go for a sense of career achievement with a nightly show - still performing but without the rigors of touring. At the same time, it's a place where dreams go to fizzle. Folks show up in Vegas to make it big and end up posing for $1 photos - you see life-sized minions and Olaf from afar and it's exciting, but when you get up close, the minions are dingy and dirty and Olaf has a fanny pack and is soliciting donations. It's a place where people go to pretend to be someone else - we saw many an impersonator: Michael Jackson (at least 2), Elvis, Marilyn Monroe (with a really bad wig), Tommy Boy, Brian Cranston's character from Breaking Bad, Scooby Doo, an overweight Minnie Mouse and Mickey too, multiple Alans from The Hangover with baby dolls strapped to their chests, Gene Simmons (X3), Chewbacca (X2), Yoda, the entire cast of The Avengers and Bumblebee - just to name a few. We also saw tourists taking photos of homeless people on the street. That felt really gross - as if visitors to Vegas saw people who made their home on the streets in the same way they saw the people dressed in costumes. It made me want to know their stories.

Welcome to Moe's!

Because a TV in a mirror trumps it all...

All in all, I'm glad our children saw the city while in our care. I'm sure there are some who would consider us irresponsible for taking our kids to Vegas, of all places - I probably would have agreed with them just a few short years ago. We truly did have fun and laughed a TON! However, what we saw and the way we talked through it all, hopefully reinforced that trying to be something/someone you're not doesn't lead to fulfillment. When faced with over the top glorification of artificial reality we decided that we're more content in our 'normal' (fully clothed) life in our little two bedroom apartment right here in Vancouver. And we agree completely with the country mouse cousin who prefers to live his relatively modest, peaceful life away from danger and strife.