Last night the boys had their preschool Christmas Pageant. It was wonderful and sweet and so precious to see all the children tell the story of Jesus' birth. I worried how things would turn out since the boys missed preschool all last week with colds and because Jack was being rather difficult and vowing,"My not gonna do it." Here they are minutes before show time. Sam, nervous and shy. Jack, grumpy and stubborn. He didn't want to wear his vest or hat and whined when it was time to line up. Jody said he had mad cow disease.
Sam played hand bells with his class and had a small speaking part. I ached for him because I saw how nervous he was. The sanctuary was full and I know it was overwhelming to be in front of so many people. He mouthed his lines over and over again as he waited his turn. And then he stepped up to the microphone and said, "Glory to God in the highest." My heart overflowed with pride and I couldn't wait to scoop him up and tell him how wonderful he'd done.
I held my breath when it was Jack's turn to come out. He made me proud by walking out on cue and taking his place on the stage. He added a little twist to his walk and had a look of, "Seriously, folks. This is so lame." But he did it and that's all that matters.
I didn't know I would fall more in love with my children during the program, but I did. They both made me so proud and I fought back tears the entire time. I am going to be one of those moms. The one who cries at every performance and embarrasses her husband and her children. Maybe they won't hold it against me.
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