“The Family Con” might not be the most auspicious title for my first Krewe du Who post, but it will never trump the to-do list post-it note on my kitchen counter just days before our first family outing to a science-fiction convention which read:

bank
masks
bombs

That jewel of abbreviated implied criminal thought would be no easier to explain to someone who did not know us well than why I spent eight months and embarrassing amounts of money to make/commission all the various costumes we wore that weekend.  Costumes that included my eight year old’s production-scale Dalek, made by his engineer grandfather;  my college-age daughter’s replica Romana II costume, tailored in England by Steven Ricks who cut pattern traces from the original costume worn by Lalla Ward; my son’s fourth Doctor costume, making him the “Petit Four” (“being inside the Dalek all the time is boring mom”), and my daughter’s Weeping Angel.

But I remember that morning, looking down at the post-it note, and bursting out laughing...  I still needed to get cash to buy food at the convention (my son is always hungry), the Weeping Angel mask was still in need of paint and sealer, and I was struggling to engineer a way to attach the Dalek bombs (re: Destiny of the Daleks).  Yet there it was in black sharpie on yellow post-it note—I was apparently about to commit some sort of nefarious crime.

Meanwhile, the kids were asking thousands of questions about what it would be like, and there was no small concern about whether or not people REALLY wore costumes at CoastCon.  You may all stop laughing uproariously now.  No, seriously, these poor children had no idea that it was possible that you could go out in public all dressed up for fun and not be stared at like you’d just escaped from an insane asylum.

Why did it matter so much to me as a mom?  I had a feeling that my oddball genius children had never actually met their peers before, as we live in something of a sci-fi backwater where, for example, when we went out with the Dalek costume to the city Halloween festival, no one knew what a Dalek was (which just crushed my little guy--you would have cried).  In my mind, CoastCon would be the great equalizer for them, a glimpse into a larger world of devoted fans who LOVE science fiction and fantasy.  My hope was that my eight year old who is autistic and has difficulty feeling welcome might finally find a place where he felt included. It worked, too. The advantage to making interesting costumes was that people engaged HIM.  They talked to him, even when he didn’t know what to say back to them.   The experience was good for his sister, too,  because she finally met lots of people who don’t think blond and smart and creative are some kind of disease.

For three days, they had such fun.  People wanted to take pictures with them, and they wanted to take pictures with others. People were startled by the Weeping Angel, laughed with the Petit Four who would NOT stop trying to cram his faux Jelly Babies down peoples’ gullets, and for a rare few who knew she wasn’t Steampunk, appreciated the detail work that went into the amazing Romana II costume.   A good time was truly had by all.  Geek peeps for the WIN! Especially the Krewe du Who, who were the absolute best folks to meet first at our first family con.  The final question of the weekend?  “Mom, when can we do it again?”