Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Dance Party

On Saturday night we attended our cousin's Bar Mitzvah.  One of the kids, the smallest, called the Bar Mitzvah the "Bombit."  We laughed, O did not like that.  So we corrected him and told him it was called a "BAR MITZ Vvvvvah."  No matter they were dressed beautifully and properly schooled on the expected behavior.

I did not take a picture of the boys in the Temple in their yarmulkes.  Although I loved one image when I looked to my right and I could see all the boys heads dotted with blue yarmulkes.  It struck me then how proud I was of our little family.  Inspite of so much, we are a family.
The boys did not make it thorough without disruption so we spent some time in the foyer of the Temple.  Of course you could hear the boys running up and down inside, but whatever.  After the conclusion of the service it was time to party.  And that is what our kids were looking forward to.

And within a moment of heading to our table, M spotted the dance floor.  She was gone in a flash.  With two willing dance partners she was busy all night long.

M made friends when the boys were boring, she and this little girl were screaming accross the dance floor, it was darling.

Nothing says love like a brother who wants to dance with you and only you!
On Sunday J worked and we made cookies, they found the yamulkes.

We are an interfaith family.  Intefaith family life is very difficult, because there is the chance that your children will identify with nothing.  I don't want my children to identify with nothing.  This I know for sure, they will identify as part of our family.  And our family is pretty awesome.

1 comment:

Melanie Gao said...

I love that parting thought! It's why I changed my last name when I got married. I wasn't going to but then I started thinking about being an American woman married to a Chinese man, raising bilingual and bicultural kids. And I started to worry that they wouldn't feel like they fit in anywhere. I didn't want our family too to be a place where some people were Gaos and others were Parsons. So I took my husband's last name knowing that if nothing else, our kids would know that they belong here with the Gaos.

I love the pictures of your kids dancing. What a sweet memory for you all.