That word "festival" sends visions of sugar plums dancing through my head, well more like face painting, crafts, marching bands, and naked men covered in paint riding their bikes through the streets--you know fun stuff. It's only the beginning of July, and we've been to a lot of festivals this summer--two today--but I'm afraid to say, my joyful anticipation of them is waning.

Folklife

I love Folklife. I have loved Folklife my whole life. I started going when I was sixteen. It's a celebration of folk music which I love, and folk dancing, which I love, and folk crafts which I used to love, but I keep seeing the same people year after year so am less blown away by their unique home grown art. And it's a celebration of people dressing in tye dye and bells and admiring each other. I like all that. But will the kids?

We actually went three different days, and it went reasonably well. I mean my favorite part was when I had no children with me and got to just dance. The kids liked some of the things we like--watching African dancers, Irish dancers, circus artists, and hula hoop afficianados. And we had factored in many of the things they like--running in and out of the giant fountain, sliding down the statue of the Orcas, spectacular face painting, and spending hours in the kid craft area making wooden boats and just running in the grass.

David was really happy because we ran into a boy friend of his, and they did tons of boy things together like threaten each other with sticks and throw rocks down the grate. They had a really good time. Rose was happy as long as she was with Miriam. They sat in the front row of the Bobs concert.

Yes, I didn't get to hear the Bobs concert, and there was whining and melting down before I was ready to leave, but between the cool weather keeping the hoards away and enough adults to take turns with the kids, it was a good festival.


Fremont Solstice Parade

The last time I went to the Fremont Parade I was seven months pregnant with Rose. I painted my belly and danced in the street. And the next time I go I think I will also paint my body and dance in the street, but I will not bring small children.

You think I'm going to comment on the crowds, right? Ten thousand people, that's just too many for my little boy who gets freaked out at parties of over ten. Nope, not the crowds. We didn't have a problem with them because we didn't get that close.

We watched the parade from up a hill. It looked quixotic and funky and naked and everything the Fremont Solstice parade is supposed to be, but our kids were too busy bickering and being bored for us to really take it in. Note to self: no parades.

Then we wandered through the booth area where the kids vacillated between asking to buy everything and complaining about how bored they were. Note to self: no booths.

Then we walked miles up the hill pushing David in the stroller while Rose whined piteously until we caught a bus. Note to self: consider transportation issues.


Wooden Boat Festival

This was a lovely festival. Everything a festival should be--free, run by committed thrilled volunteers, and about history, continuity, fun, and boats. We toured an old fashioned tug boat and the Virginia V, a Seattle legend. We played with model boats junior high kids had spent a year making. (Thanks Anna's classmates!) And we got to go on a ride on a little steamship, Puffin. The first mate sat next to David shoving chunks of wood into the stove as we took our little tour of Lake Union waving to kayakers and the pirate ship.


Milk Carton Derby

This is another festival with a delightful theme--people make boats out of milk cartons, decorate them, and race. We got to walk there from Mike and Sheila's house. It's free too, but has been taken over by swag. Now, I'm not one to turn down a free toothbrush, a Frisbee advertising your company, a box of apple juice, or a coloring book about milk, but neither is anyone else. That made this section of the festival crowded, as well as hot and loud. David has not learned how to say, "I'm feeling overwhelmed, and I need to leave now." So, he melts. It took me another 10 minutes to understand the problem and extricate us. 10 unfun minutes.

Looking back at what I had to say, I realize I do still like festivals I really do. But some of the things I like most about them--the carnival atmosphere and the chance to admire artists--are not things I can do with my kids.