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How to Survive Your Kid's Holiday Concert 


Daylight is waning, the temperature is dropping and the snow is flying. ‘Tis the season of frenzied shopping, grouchy family gatherings and super duper kiddie concerts.

Shortly, you will receive an email begging your presence at a secular solstice celebration, an amalgamated holiday bonanza or a good old-fashioned instrumental cacophony. You will go, not because you want to, but because this is part of the deal. The kids have worked so hard!!!! They’re so excited to perform for you!!!!!

That may be true, but unless your kid goes to the Fame school, this is gonna suck. Here’s how to transform brief misery into a lasting memory.

Go to Your Happy Place 

Okay, maybe I got off on the wrong foot. Stop negative thoughts before they spiral out of control. Instead of thinking, “This is gonna suck,” say, “This is gonna suck” in Donald Duck’s voice. You’ll turn your frown upside down and save yourself from awkward small talk with anyone in earshot. Or try something more subtle, like a stress ball or meditation.

You might think these relaxation techniques are unnecessary, but after you’ve gotten the evil eye from your boss for clocking out early, parked five blocks from the school, folded yourself into a tiny chair and grown nauseated from the overheated smell of 900 bodies in the cafegymatorium, don’t be surprised to find yourself chanting “Ohhhhmmmm.”

Follow the Rules

Long before any sugar plum fairies wobble through their pirouettes, an Adult In Charge will step to the microphone, tap it three times and welcome you poor saps to Parkside Elementary. This person will be overly excited (The kids have worked so hard!!!!) so it’ll be easy to tune out the content of the message. Pay attention! These are the rules of attendance! Modeling good behavior will help keep the kids under control.

Don’t hoot and holler when Junior appears. Don’t clap when you’re not supposed to. Be quiet, respectful and attentive. I’ve seen many parents go into hysterics at the sight of their child on stage, jumping up and down, waving their arms. Your kid read two sentences about the Mayflower while wearing a construction-paper hat. He didn’t win a Kia Soul on The Price is Right. Chill.

Don’t Pick Up Your Phone

I know how it is. You want to make sure Clark got back to you about that revision to the Power Point. You check your email real quick, but then your monkey dopamine brain takes over and you decide to see if anyone liked your funny tweet. (Nope.) Pretty soon you’re muttering curses about the President under your breath, and Junior’s triangle solo has come and gone while you were busy staring at your pretty hate machine.

You probably look at it too much. Take this opportunity for a 60-minute break from technology. Wait, is that how long the jazz band has been swinging flat through Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree? How many verses are in this song? Ooohhhhhhmmmmm.

Actually Watch

Not through a viewfinder or a screen. Through your eyeballs. Experience life! If you want photos, take them after the performance. Got a fancy camera? Just use one lens. Get arty on your own time.

The video of this G-rated, offensively revisionist staging of the Thanksgiving story will never be viewed, so don’t bother taping it. I’m glad someone happened to record the earnest cymbal player and I wish Jack Hitt’s classic This American Life story was on YouTube. But it’s unlikely that you’ll bear witness to a hilariously terrible performance. It’ll only be run-of-the mill terrible, and that doesn’t get you on Tosh.0, which, amazingly, is still a thing.

Dish Out Warm Fuzzies

When it’s all said and done, give your kid a big hug and a heaping helping of praise. Be specific. Instead of, “That was wonderful!” say, “I’ve never seen a more graceful dancing snowman!” The truth is, the kids are super excited to perform for you. They memorized lines and made silly costumes and moved more or less in sync in a way that approximated dancing. For people who can’t yet write in cursive, these should be counted as achievements.

If you’re a “praise sandwich” parent, cut it out in general, but especially now. Junior doesn’t want to hear “If you’d projected more on the punchline, you would’ve gotten a bigger laugh.” He wants to bask in the afterglow of the stage lights. He’s a sweet boy, but you’ll never have to worry about him getting chewed up by Hollywood, and you both know it.

Celebrate

My kids spent their early years in the South. I don’t know if it’s specific to that region, but parents would show up to these performances with flowers for their little thespians. I’m not talking about gas-station roses in a tube. I mean beauty-pageant-winner bouquets. This makes for a pretty post on Facebook, but most kids would prefer something else.

I suggest ice cream, donuts, fresh-baked cookies or whatever ordinarily forbidden sugary treat your kid loves best. Because this is no ordinary day. This is the day he (sort of) brought down the house in a very special performance. You’ll both remember it forever, so spring for extra sprinkles.