Christmas Party

Have you ever had one of those moments where, while you were experiencing the moment, you were acutely aware that you would never forget this experience, this slice of time?

I had one today.

I dropped Morgan off at preschool, like I usually do on Tuesday mornings. The teachers invited me to come a half hour earlier when picking her up in order to enjoy a Christmas party with the kids. I told them I'd see how the day went. All parents were invited for Christmas songs and cookies. Awwww. That's nice, I thought. I hope those parents have fun.

But something didn't sit well with me after I dissed their offer.

I flashed back to every choir production, school play and art show that I had ever participated in as a child and remembered that the ONLY thing that mattered to me was that Mom and Dad were there. Recall any elementary school play, and you'll remember a stage full of kids who fumble through their half-memorized lines but somehow manage to scan a crowded auditorium and see their Mom and Dad. Their parents could be costume clad and sitting in the back row of stadium seating, but their children would sniff them out like a heat seeking missile and yell, "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!". Kids know.

So I went. I shed my layered "stay at home mommy t-shirts" for a pretty glittery top. When I arrived, I scanned the crowd of already hyper children for my blond headed daugther. There she was. I saw her scan the crowd until she saw me. A shy smile came over her face followed by much jumping. So this is why people become parents.

The audience then watched their offspring perform numerous carols and some newer songs which I had never heard of. The later songs involved a lot of jumping, twirling and yelling which may be why one doesn't hear them on, say, any adult radio program. Each child locked eyes with his or her parents while they sang. It wasn't hard to see who belonged to who. Smaller children bellowed "Hi, Mommy!" while squirming in their teacher's laps.

After the production, we were invited to cookies, which was a good idea seeing as how the children must have spent half their blood sugar in screaming at their adoring fans. Morgan and I obliged.

At the end of the party, a mere thirty minutes, I clad my daughter in her winter regalia and we were off. I winced, thinking that I had entertained the thought of not coming. It was worth every minute.