Several weeks ago we received a letter from Tyler’s teacher
inviting us to his Kindergarten Christmas play. Accompanying the letter was a
note informing us that Tyler had been cast as “The Real Santa,” amongst a
flurry of other “Santa imposters.” His teacher kindly included some possible
costume suggestions (ie red sweats, black shoes, Santa hat) as well as a note:
PLEASE DON’T STRESS ABOUT COSTUMES.
In the weeks leading up to the play, Tyler diligently
practiced his three songs and two very important lines. Ryan and I quizzed him
daily and encouraged him to let us hear his best booming Santa impression. I picked
up a Santa hat and a red shirt, knowing that he already had a pair of red pants
that would work perfectly. We were all set.
Or so I thought.
Tyler woke up this morning, the day of the play, declaring that he did not want to be “The REAL
Santa.”
Me: “Tyler, why don’t you want to be Santa? You’ve been
practicing your lines and your songs and you’re all ready to go.”
Tyler: “Because my costume doesn’t look like Santa!”
Me: “What do you mean, we picked out exactly what your
teacher suggested.”
Tyler: “Yeah, but I don’t look like the REAL Santa! All of
the other Santa’s have beards and they look like Santa and I don’t. And I’m
supposed to be the REAL Santa!” (insert flailing arms here.)
At this point, Ryan
gives me the side eye and reminds me that we’ve had weeks to get his costume
together.
Me: “I had no idea he needed a beard. The note said nothing about
a beard!”
Tyler: “I’m just not even going to be in the play. I’ll just
watch.”
Ryan: “Tyler, you are going to be a great Santa, the BEST
Santa.”
Tyler: “No, ______ is going to be the best Santa. He has
black shoes and a costume AND he has a beard!”
Me: “ Seriously? The note said: DON’T STRESS ABOUT COSTUMES.
And it was in BOLD print. What does
that kids over achieving mother do? For real. Apparently she has nothing else to do
ALL.DAY.LONG.”
So…before 8AM even rolled around, I found myself at Walmart searching
one unorganized shelf after the other for anything remotely resembling a beard.
If you know me at all you understand the courage it took to even step inside
the door of that godforsaken place. Complete act of desperation. And there were
absolutely no Santa beards to be found. Lucky for me, I have a very accommodating
husband who was willing to carve some time out of his day to make a trip to
Party City. So our kid might not have the boots or the suit or the ridiculously
oversized belt, but he’ll have a beard. Call it what you want but I’m going to
call it success.
I learned an important lesson this morning. Ok, I learned THREE important lessons. One, there will always be parents who go above and beyond
what is required and it is very unlikely that said parent will ever be me. At
some point, if for nothing else but my own sanity, I am going to have to come
to terms with this fun little fact. Two, it’s absolutely impossible to be an
attentive wife, doting mother, full time employee AND ensure that your kid
has a costume for the school play, properly fitting apparel for pajama day and
a healthy snack to share for the class party. And three, it’s probably a good
idea if I refrain from judging how mothers who cannot follow simple attire suggestions
spend their time as I’m now sitting here sincerely hoping that the words “What
does your mom DO all day?” do not come out of the REAL Santa’s mouth today.
Parenting is tough work, my friends.
