When they make you cry

Today was a day of tears. Good tears. The kind of tears that start with a bit of a choke in your throat and you feel like your chest is going to implode. Your bottom lip does a little tremble – nothing major, just a wobble. You smile as your eyes well up.

Your pupil reflects the reason for the tears. In my case, today Big was Mary. It was her second nativity. Last year she was a sheep and got a bit worried and cried.

Big is a funny little button. At home, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a copy of The Stage in her back pocket. At Pre-School, you wouldn’t be surprised to find her hiding in a corner. She’s a complete contradiction. She hates loud noise, but loves banging drums and singing. She hates being the focus of attention, but at home will treat visitors to solos of Let It Go. She will melt down if another child is upset, but she’ll tell her sister to stop being so silly if she cries.

I spent most of last night worrying how she’d cope with the starring role. She’d struggled to get to sleep last night after counting down the sleeps until ‘Her Play’. She woke early and melted down about it still being sleep time. I knew it would go one of two ways: Spectacularly badly with her refusing to take part, or she’d be reaching for an Oscar by lunchtime. Thankfully, it was closer to the latter. She happily walked down onto the stage with Joseph on her arm, declaring that she “couldn’t see Mummy!”, swiftly followed by “Hello Mummy, hello Daddy, hello Gransy!”. Obviously, we’d got there twenty minutes early to secure the front row.

Okay, she didn’t sing anything more than ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas’ and instead sat with her hands over her ears during the singing and she was too busy saying hello to us to remember to say her line, but she was fantastic. She was fantastic because she coped. All those people looking at her shy little face and there were no hysterics and no tears. My little button really was the star of the show and I am bursting with love and pride.*

This afternoon she had ballet. Big has a fabulous ballet teacher who is brilliant with smalls. Her class usually has about five children in it and I can never understand the mums that sit there playing on their phones or reading a book instead of watching their smalls. It’s delightful. I usually have half an eye on feeding Medium raisins to try and stop her joining in, but I knew today that would be futile. Big’s ballet school came to toddler group on Thursday and Medium got to ‘have a go’. Consequently, today she couldn’t see why she couldn’t claim a dot and take part.

And take part she did. Despite being only two-and-a-bit, Medium was up there with the Bigs doing everything they did. So much so that she can now join the class and ‘do ballet’. She is beyond excited and watching her chunky little legs ‘dip dip dip’ as she pointed her little chubby toes gave my tear ducts another work out.

Two work outs in one day and not an onion in sight. Those little pixies are just the best.

*Apologies to the other parents of cast members today. This was a big deal for Big.

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When they make you cry

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