For all to hear

 Winter is here!  A part of me is ready, but the other part is rebelling with all it's might.  The Dude's tractor really never had a chance outside in the cold.  Well, it was thrown in the wheelbarrow sometime in the Fall and that is really what did it in.
But... it makes for a really cool picture.
Mr. Finn is calling it a Missouri Zamboni.
Funny!

 My little boy had a part in the Christmas Program for his school.  He never even let me know that he did, but he did great.  Clear, concise and didn't even seem nervous.
But, I have to say that as a Mom, shouldn't I have known that he had a part?
How could I not know?
He even said to me before we left for the program that he was really nervous.  I told him he would be fine.  That isn't right!
Aren't mothers supposed to know everything in their children's lives?
Well, at least the stuff that matters?

Sometimes I wonder if my kids will survive me because apparently Mr. Finn knew.

And yet... I didn't.  Isn't there some husband/wife code that says they make sure the other one is in the loop?

What's up with the kid's belly?

 I knew Miss Boo had lines in the play and she did well.  She is so good at memorizing things and I knew she would be able to pull it off without a hitch.  And she did!

 Do you remember the days as a kid when you would just belt out the songs?
Before you realized that you couldn't sing.
I love to sing, but those around me don't want to hear me sing.  I can't blame them.

My mother used to tell me that I sounded like a crow.  That is when I quit singing loudly.  Maybe I should start singing loudly again.  I heard once that singing is a form of worship and participation.

 I love that they take the singing seriously and never forgot their parts.

 I get choked up when I watch my children excel at what they are doing.  There is something about that whole "pride" thing.  It really "wells" up inside you and wants to burst out of your chest.

At least, in my experience it feels that way.  Makes me want to be that obnoxious parent that is elbowing the person next to her, saying "That's my kid!".

Maybe even a big "Whoo Hoo!" shouted very loudly at the most inappropriate moment.

But, alas I am not that kind of parent.  I inwardly wished I had the nerve to be, but for now I will BEAM with pride.