Friday, December 7, 2007

Bad Mom and the Christmas Program

Bub has been practicing for a Christmas program for a little while now, though I had no idea. I knew he'd been singing carols in music class, and we'd talked about that, but that was the end of what he told me. Tuesday afternoon, he mentioned he had a program to perform in, and I argued with him about it until I pulled out the newly updated First Grade Newsletter, where there was listed a program at 2:00 P.M. Thursday. I noted it in my planner and planned to go, though I was quite irritated by the late notice, or rather, the lack of effective notice from any adult.

Wednesday afternoon, he brought home a note that said he was in a program at 6:00 P.M. on Thursday evening during a school retail fair, and needed to come dressed in a special outfit and carrying a special ornament. The thing is, though, that we have lives and we make plans more than 24 hours in advance. I'm home more than many moms, I'm sure, and yet, I don't even have time to run out and scour the town for an outfit and ornament, and then cancel plans to watch Bub stand among a crowd picking his nose (which is what he did in the last program he was in, though he was only two years old).

I left a message for the music teacher asking why there wasn't more than 24-hours notice, and she sounded generally irritated when she called back. But this is probably the third time in Bub's year that something vitally important wasn't communicated effectively, or at all. As a result of the lack of notice, Bub couldn't perform Thursday night. I talked to him about it, and he didn't care, though our inability to go made me feel like a bad mom. With some warning, I could have gone shopping and made arrangements for him to be at the school. Oh well.

I came to the school at 2:00 (the time listed on the newsletter) and watched a practice. It was clear he had been working hard, but it was also clear the music teacher was either really stressed out or somewhat unprepared. Quite a bit of the practice was her shouting into the crowd -- which strengthens my desire to homeschool the kids. There are days that I shout, but I'm mommy -- I follow it up with a cuddle and an apology. She followed up with shouts to dismiss.

Bub remembered the songs and did the dances and didn't once seem to feel embarrassed. (Though he's rambunctious, he's very private.) His growth is clear -- singing and dancing and focusing in a crowd. He sat still when he was supposed to, and remembered multiple positions across the gym. He even held hands and skipped with a girl, and wasn't totally grossed out! My little Buttercup is growing up.

(When he was a baby, I would greet him with, "What's up, Buttercup?" My mom used to make fun of me, saying when he was a high school athlete, I'd be in the crowd shouting, "Run, Buttercup, Run!" I don't think so. I have much more embarrassing things in mind. Like pulling out these pictures. Tee Hee!)

Be a rebel against gravity: Skip!
~Jessi Lane Adams

Hi Mom!

(On a side note, when I was looking for a cute quote about skipping, I noticed the above mentioned author seemed to be the authority, offering many quotes about the art of the skip. Is that what she does for her day job? What a life!)


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