by Kelli Bowen
I have discovered in the past couple of years that it’s hard being the new kid. The “always”es are not an always when it’s your first. The “usual” is not usual when it’s not a usual situation. Being in two new school systems the past two years with new rules, new normals, and new traditions has a bit of a learning curve. It makes me really feel for people who move from another state, climate, culture, or country, when we are just moving from another county in North Dakota. Take something as simple as a children’s choir concert.
Miss A is in her class band, class choir, and in a children’s choir. The latter is performing on weekends at different events during the holiday season. We received three messages from the choir instructor two days before the next performance.
The first outlined the weekend's activities, times, expectations, and to dress in black. The second discussed an earlier canceled event (because NoDak weather) and a newly added substitution event that will be upcoming. The third message stated: “No need to wear concert black. Dress festive and wear your Santa hat! I have extra for those who may need one.”
I applied this last message to the upcoming performance.
This morning, I told Miss A she could dress festively and wear a Santa hat. She argued that her band teacher said she had to wear black. I said this isn’t a band concert, it’s choir, and the teacher sent a message specifically stating they didn’t need to wear black. She put up a fuss and then relented to holiday garb.
We tried a few outfits and landed on a green sparkly dress, a Santa hat with reindeer antlers, and pigtails bedazzled with ribbons. We jumped in the car and off we rolled. The venue was closer to our house than the school bus that was taking the group so we opted to drive separately.
We arrived a few minutes late. As we entered, we could hear rehearsal already in full swing, so we walked to the gymnasium, and there was her choir, all standing in place, rehearsing beautifully… everyone dressed in black.
Miss A looked at me with that I-Want-To-Melt-Into-The-Floor look but bravely walked up to take her place, front and center.
I deflated to the back wall. Another mom thanked me for being later than her. I laughed, always willing to take the heat off another. I explained my confusion with the dress. She smiled and said she had double-checked with the instructor because she, too, wasn’t sure. She stated her daughter was almost festively decked out as well.
I said, “I’m running home for a new outfit.” Other mom said she’d deliver the news to Miss A that I was going to make it right, and off I drove: back home over the ice to ransack closets for black clothes. I called my girlfriend on the way and she said, “Oh yeah, it’s always black dress there.” I ran upstairs and grabbed a few options from my daughter’s closet and managed to get back after rehearsal but before the event started.
Miss A ran to the washroom, did a quick costume change, and came out head to toe in black, all except her ribbon-bedazzled pigtails.
The concert went well. Miss A looked one with the group. I had to hear “I TOLD you, Mom!” three times, but all was well in the end.
So, as we navigate these last days leading up to Christmas, if you see a kid out of theme or wearing a little extra or a little less, be kind. There’s probably a parent in the background doing their best with the information they processed, and half a closet of discarded clothes in their backseat.
Kelli, a North Dakota girl through and through, has made her home from the eastern prairies to the western badlands with her supportive Hubby, two daughters, and ever-growing menagerie accompanying her along the way.
Pioneer prairie housewife vibes