A Nearly Perfect Chinese New Year

Over the years, I have come to realize that, as good as our intentions may be, our bicultural family cannot celebrate Chinese holidays the way they are celebrated in China. 

We face some inherent challenges: we are separated from our Chinese family by a 12-hour plane ride; we live in a state where fireworks (the legal ones) are  available only during summer months; we often have to cram our holiday celebrations in with our regular routine because don't get time off from work and school as in China. And then there's the fact that when we do make holiday plans, things rarely go as expected. 

Take this Chinese New Years for instance: I started out with a "to do" list, the traditional preparations for the holiday. 

1. Clean the house.  
We cleaned the house, and then it got messy again. Valentines Day was just a few days away and boxes and cards needed to be crafted for school parties. When we finished, the living room was strewn with decorations and crafts for both holidays, along with the usual collections of toys, books, shoes, snack bowls, etc...All in all, it was very un-clean. 

2. Buy fresh flowers.  
This was on the "to do" list, but I got sidetracked with all the Valentines Day preparations and ran out of time. Oops!

3.  Skype with the relatives in China. 
Miraculously, we secured a good connection on New Years Eve (their New Year) and were able to talk long enough for everyone to wish each other Xin Nian Kuai Le (Happy New Year) and Gong Xi (Congratulations--the typical New Year's greeting). Before signing off, my mother-in-law reminded me to prepare hong bao (red envelopes) to slip under the kids' pillows at night. 

4. Prepare Hong Bao.  
"Do we have any hong bao?" my husband looked at me hopefully. If I answered "No," one of us would be off on a wild goose chase looking for the Chinese envelopes at 9 p.m. on a Sunday night in a mid-sized Midwestern city. Instead, I told him that we had a couple from last year that we could reuse. And I had cash to fill them! (We never ever have cash on hand so I was feeling mighty proud about this.)

Fast forward to New Years Day. The kids woke up, ran into the kitchen clutching their hong bao, and exclaimed in happy voices, "Xin Nian Kuai Le!" Picture perfect, right?

Less than an hour later, I was deep in negotiations with a stubborn three year old who was determined to wear paper-thin Chinese printed shorts out the door in 40-degree overcast weather.  

"Fine. You can wear your shorts," I conceded, "but you have to wear pants either over or under them." Minutes later, my three year old walked out the door wearing two pairs of pants--his thin shorts under a pair of corduroys. 

Then, there was the mouse poop...lots of it.  Mice had taken up residence in our van overnight, and turned our vehicle into their shredded, poopy Mousedom. Wasn't this the Year of the Snake? Where was my snake when I needed it? As much as it turned my stomach, I didn't have time to clean this mess up now.  We were late to see a Lion Dance at a local restaurant where we had planned to eat dim sum. 

When we arrived, the restaurant was bustling. We waited over an hour with other Chinese and American families, packed shoulder to shoulder. While we waited, the kids watched the Lion Dance performers warm up, don their bightly-colored costumes, and begin their dance (accompanied by loud gongs and drums) into the restaurant. 

One hour later, we were eating a delicious meal and watching the performance again, this time from the inside. The kids, happy with their full bellies, watched the lion eat a head of cabbage suspended from the ceiling, and then shake its dancing tush in their father's face. 

Did we have a perfect Chinese New Year? No, but nearly.