Second Verse, Same as the First...

Truthfully, I can't believe I'm writing this post.  Not because it's not worth telling or worth remembering, because it so is.  But because I have talked this TO DEATH in real life.  

I'm over myself in this story.

Actually, you can apply that statement to the rest of my life.  Go ahead.  I grant thee my permission.

So let's start with Rhys here.  He's easy.  MIRACULOUSLY.  

This is his first year in school and thus, he's living in a world of firsts.  That includes his first Christmas performance.  

Precious littles.  They had one song to sing.  Jingle Bells.  And thankfully, they were first.  The show started at 7 pm.  Which is just about a three year old's BEST TIME OF DAY.

So good.

The kiddos were to wear red and green but nothing more specific.  Not sure if all of y'all are aware, but Rhys' favorite color is blue.  And only blue.  Because God is a gracious, loving Father, He provided us with a hand-me-down BLUE Christmas shirt.  It has a green Christmas tree and all the boy things around it.  You know, a soccer ball, a skate board, etc.

But it's not red or green.

Whatever.  Rules are for everyone else.  Right?

Although, I could not for the life of me convince Rhys to wear it.  He was all set to hit that stage in his Superman tee-shirt.  

Also blue.

Chris swooped in with a moment of sheer genius and suggested Rhys wear his Christmas shirt OVER his Superman shirt.  And Rhys fell for it!  

Almost like the real Superman, he headed to the stage with his true identity secretly hidden underneath the required dress for his task.

Not reporter but Three Year Old Jingle Bell Ringer (and maybe Singer).

He'd been saying for weeks he wasn't going to sing.  "I don't sing."  But I think that's largely because Aubrey Kate had been doing almost nothing else BUT singing and he was over it.

We kinda all were.  Shhhhh...

After the PTA did their 45 minute shpill, it was time for Rhys to ROCK IT.

He climbed right up on the stage and headed to the dead last spot on the end.  Almost like that was his spot.  Smart teachers.  He got those jingle bells and WENT. TO. TOWN.  Ringing those bells like it was his job! 

Until the music came on for the singing.  At which point, all ringing of the bells stopped.  He just stood there.  For a moment, we thought he was gonna cry but he pulled it together. And stood like an adorable champ.  

Bless.

Yes, the jingle bells are in his mouth.

He's hard to see really.  He's the one in BLUE.

His performance was stressful, for sure.  Almost bedtime, wardrobe challenges, ridiculously long speeches about what I have no idea, but it was nothing compared to Aubrey Kate's Christmas performance.

A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, AK came home with her line for the Christmas program.

My reaction?  "Your what?"

Apparently, all the kindergarteners had a line to deliver during the show.  AK and I discussed it at length.  Initially, she said she did not want to do it.  

Conversation went like this...

"Baby, what do you think about your line?  Are you excited?"

"No."

"Do you want to say the line?  All the kids in your class will be saying their line."

"I know.  But I don't want to do it."

So I talked with her teacher.  She was convinced AK would do the line and be fabulous.  BUT in the event she didn't, the teacher's aid would be standing behind her to do the line for her.

That seemed like a good compromise.

She memorized that line in ONE CAR RIDE.  Not kidding.  Like a boss!  Her teacher and I were completely impressed.  

AK's teacher was thrilled with her progress as the rehearsals for the program continued.  She knew all the songs and loved to sing.  She always said her line boldly and perfectly.

But trouble was looming.

The costume.

Duh-duh-dunnnnn...

The costume this year was a man's white button down shirt, a tinsle halo and a rope for a belt.

Little angels.

We talked with AK about the costume and her teachers talked with her as well.  

I wasn't entirely sure how this was gonna go.  Her teacher was convinced it would be flawless.  AK would wear the costume (because, "She does things for me she won't do for you."), sing beautifully and deliver her line like a pro.

The day of the program, she woke up that morning crying and saying she didn't want to be in the show.

I braced myself for the worst.  

I was able to convince her to go to school and see how she felt when we got there.

She seemed fine.  Right up until the moment she had to put on the costume.  Her teacher shoo'd us away and started working with her.  We went to sit and wait.

As she came walking down the aisle with her class, we knew it was gonna be bad.  She was holding her hands up to her face and crying.

And just like last year, she cried the entire way through the program.  Only this year, she was in the back on the top row.  She managed to hide behind the person in front of her.  

When it came time for her to say her line, she started it and then completely lost it.  Just bawling.

And I started crying too.

I had so wanted this year to be different for her.  Wanted it both for her and for her teacher who seemed completely convinced AK would be great.

After the show, I did exactly what I did last year.  Held her in my lap, smack in the middle of the floor, and told her I loved her and I was proud of her.  I prayed over her and thanked Jesus for all the wonderful ways He knit her together.  

I walked her to her classroom where she showed me all of her Christmas crafts hanging in various parts of the room.  Got her settled in to class and then left.

At this point, I totally lost it.

I called Mom and just cried for 45 minutes.

My heart broke for everyone.  My daughter.  Her teacher.  Chris.  Myself.  

At the playground after school, one of the moms said, Hey, did you hear about the kid who cried the whole time during the show?

You don't say.

I talked to Aubrey Kate about it that night.  She did not want to wear the costume, for sure.  That is her strong-willed nature.  The fact she got on stage with it on, her teacher was considering a win.  She did what she was told to do.  She followed instructions.  Even if she didn't want to.

She also said she was scared.  Last year, she said she didn't want to be on stage without us.  This year she said she didn't like all the people there.  That would be the audience.  

So there are two things at play here.  Her strong-willed nature and her stage-fright or her introverted nature.  

(There's likely a third thing in her sensory issues with clothing but since that's never been evaluated or diagnosed by a professional, that's only my momma heart seeing that.)

Truly, I don't know anymore what to think.  

I know what I FEEL.  And that is like an absolutely failure as her mother on that day.  How much do I advocate for my child before I become a Helicopter Parent?  When does she have to learn being an extrovert is an expected and glorified trait in our culture?  Does standing on the stage crying but wearing the costume truly mean she learned a lesson on obedience?

And y'all, I honestly don't know the answers.  

I know the questions.  All. The Questions.  But I know none of the answers.  

The spring show is looming.  There's no costume and if the trend for last year holds, she'll do much better without having to wear a costume.  Last spring, she sang.  She didn't do most of the motions but she did sing.  Hopefully, that will hold true again this year.

There's also the matter of dance classes.  She's crazy excited about starting dance lessons this semester.  And at the end of that semester, there will likely be a recital.  In a scratchy costume.  

This is what I do know:  I want her to be okay with herself.  All of the parts of herself.  The strong-willed parts.  The introverted parts.  The likely-sensory sensitive issues.  All of her.  

She IS joyful.  Caring.  Kind.  Polite.  Crazy smart.  Leans towards sassy.  Highly sensitive.  Super creative.  She's my artist.  My worshiping songbird.  

Look at her in this picture before the costume and the show...

That is a happy girl.  An excited girl.  She was nervous, for sure, but I think she could have done it.  

But you add in the costume and you get her crying and hiding behind another kid.

And here she is leaving, completely bawling.

Just writing about it is hard for me.  I feel very much like I failed her.  I didn't work with her on the costume.  We should have tried it on.  Maybe worn my shirt that was collarless.  I should have advocated more for her with her teachers.  Prepared them for what happened, since that is exactly what I was expecting.  I should have been less upset, less angered, less hurt by the entire situation. That's my baby.  And all momma's feel the need to protect and shelter their littles.  

But I still feel like a failure.  

And since I have no answers for all the questions, I'm left with just Jesus.  Which means I have all I need to get past this.  Turning my kids over to Him is just a daily task.  Letting Him love me through my own self-doubt is a never-ending challenge.  Continuing to seek Him to learn more about my daughter and how I can parent her for His glory will carry on until her entire life.

Whew.

Y'all probably feel I'm overthinking and over-feeling this.  And I would agree.  But I can say, I am crazy happy Rhys' performance was slightly less gut-wrentching.  His was just stressful due to the environment.  AK's was stressful because of ALL THE FEELINGS.

Until next year...

Lord, be near.