The celebration was held in the fellowship hall of the Ethiopian church, just across the street from their school. The kids are short, and we were in the fourth row of parents, and there was no stage or stadium seating. The performance consisted mostly of groups of kids playing guitar or singing Beatles songs. It was awful, as the kids could neither play nor sing, and why didn't they stick to typical children's songs with tunes that the kids had mastered? As I sat there, a pleasant smile plastered on my face in case one of the teachers or parents glanced at me, I thought of the years of awkward school performances that were ahead of us. What would I have to suffer through in the coming years as teachers constructed school programs designed to give parents conversational fodder about their perceived prodigy? "Why yes, my child is only in fourth grade and he has a monologue from Hamlet" these fashionable parents would be able to say at their next gathering. "I think he really nailed Hamlet's sense of ennui after his father's death. It was so adorable."
Anyway, I was impressed that the squirmy, nap-deprived kids seemed to have been well-trained and knew just what to do at all the parts. I always get nervous that my kid will be the one acting up, but Alice did just fine. At least I think so, because I couldn't see her. Luckily, Zac of the long arms took a couple of cell-phone videos so I could see it later.
After the performances, there were refreshments. Alice was thrilled to get a cupcake.
We loitered around a bit, then headed back over to the daycare building for Simon's end of year party. His was going to be like all of Alice's previous end-of-year celebrations where the kids just sit in a circle with their parents and sing a few songs, then break for snacks.
Although Simon's language skills are developing nicely, we can't really explain events like this to him in advance yet, so when we all showed up, he was really happy to see us.
But then, when we didn't leave to go home, he just started crying, and kept saying, "Go home, mommy!"
When I took him to sit in the circle for songs with all the other kids and parents, his crying turned into screaming and tantrumming. So I was now the one with the kid acting up. I didn't want to take him out in the hall, because I knew he would only cry more when if I then tried to come back into his room. So instead, Zac ran out to the van and got his pacifier to calm him down. In this picture, you can see all the other kids relaxing in their parent's laps, while Simon is clinging to me.
After the singing, with monkey-fisted Simon still clinging tight, his teacher's tried to console me and said he's normally fine. Of course he is, the kid just freaks out when the normal routine is disrupted and he can't understand why. Alice, however, was happy to eat another cupcake.
