Hair Family Reunion

I'll admit that I was not looking forward to this family reunion.  Located in Pacific Beach, Washington State, it involved a 6 hour red eye flight followed by a 3 hour drive in a rental car.  In addition to our usual luggage, we schlepped two car seats and a pack n' play.  There was a point, 2 hours into the drive up from Portland, where I lost it.  Lani had been screaming for the entire car trip.  This was followed by the 4 hours of screaming he did on the plane.  Jay and I hadn't slept.  I told Jay to pull off the highway right now, because I needed to get out.  He exited into a massive traffic jam caused by construction.  When we finally reached a parking lot, I left the car and thought about not coming back.  I remember thinking to myself that nothing could possibly be worth this much hassle.

I was wrong.  There's something special, maybe even magical, about family reunions.  Sure, we only see most of these people every 2 years.  But there's a connection, there's an ease in being around family, all the shared memories, the common history that everyone remembers a little bit differently, everyone understanding where everyone else comes from.  I pick up some of the closeness second hand, watching my mom reconnect with her brothers and sisters, all the teasing, the old jokes.  The travel was brutal.  But it was worth it.  I would do it again.

My top 10 reasons why this family reunion was great:


1. We don't have to hold the baby.

2. The Hair sisters dance the Mohey Tawa.

3. We fly kites

4. We get air.

5. We celebrate new life.

6. Grandpa follows us everywhere.

7. We play sports

8. We tell stories.


9. We watch "shows."

10. Matching outfits Grandma bought.

TLON

Back in February, when my Dad was in town, he took Roan to the Children's Museum and bought him a train from the gift shop.  He also bought a gift for Ilan - a train that spelled his name.  Except that when you're shopping with a 3-year-old, it's not always easy to focus on things like spelling.  Instead of the letters I L A N, he came home with T L O N.

This is just the kind of thing I find hopelessly hilarious.  We constantly teased my poor Dad, though in all honesty, the letters I and T looked so similar that nobody noticed at first that he'd bought a T instead of an I.  It took a neighbor to point that one out.  Of the four letters in his grandson's name, my Dad had got two of them wrong.

Months later, Jay finally exchanged the T and the O for and I and an A.  Here is the ILAN train, though we still call it the TLON train.