Norah had her first Christmas concert at school. As the event approached, I'm not sure who was more excited: Norah or me. Norah loves to sing, and we practiced each of her songs at home, singing and doing the movements for the concert together. I couldn't wait to see her perform!
It wasn't until the morning of the concert when I went to pick out something for her to wear, that it occurred to me: the other girls would surely be dressed in their Christmas best. Being a rookie, this wasn't even something I had considered until the morning of. I scrambled to get Norah ready quickly and we headed to the only place open that early close to her preschool, Old Navy. There, I found a sweater both Norah and I were pleased with: cable knit, faux cashmere, and best of all- green.
We arrived at the preschool frazzled. I quickly pulled the sweater from the shopping bag, ripped off the tags, and climbed into the back of our truck to dress Norah. As I suspected, all the other girls were dressed in Christmas dresses: purple, pink, red, black and white plaid, velveteen, bows, flowers, sashes. But, it hardly mattered to me once I saw the kids come out. Of course, Norah looked best of all to me. She marched proudly down the aisle to the stage with her class. And, she was front and center, singing loudly into the mic...
Well...at least for 2 of the 4 songs she performed. For the last 2, her hair clip was falling out - and she got distracted. Scanning the aisles to make eye contact with me and too concerned with the hair issue to sing.
But, predictably, I was so proud of it all: the green sweater, the singing, the not singing - how beautiful she looked, how confident she was, how much she's grown. A part of me, yet so clearly herself.