FCDS Holiday Sing: Let the Bedlam Begin

For 56 years, David's school, Foothill Country Day School, has heralded the holiday season with an all-school Holiday Sing concert. Traditionally, all of the students gather in the auditorium and sing holiday songs that are representative of many faith traditions. Everyone dresses in their "Sunday best," and the audience of parents, grandparents, siblings, as well as teachers and staff, are treated to the sound of the beautiful voices of more than 150 students.

And so it was that the 2010 holiday season was kicked off in traditional fashion yesterday evening.

Words cannot begin to describe how giddy with excitement David was. I mean, this almost matched his joy and anticipation of last week's cookie decorating party! But, per the instructions of the wonderful first grade teachers, Mrs. Bone and Mr. Collins, there were a few specific rules to be followed in preparation for the evening's festivities.

1. Students were not to arrive to their respective classrooms any earlier than 7:15 p.m. A handful of parents heard this directive first hand earlier in the afternoon while attending the first graders' holiday party and book exchange. Mr. Collins was very nice, and very clear, about this rule:

"What time are you supposed to be here, boys and girls?"

"SEVEN FIFTEEN!" shouted 35 seven-year olds.

"And if your parents say, 'but I got an email that said we're supposed to be there at 6:30,' what do you tell them?" asked Mr. Collins.

"SEVEN FIFTEEN!" came the choral response.

I didn't blame the teachers one bit for establishing this rule at the get-go. The last thing they needed was 35 wired kids just itching to get on stage and show their stuff. Yes, calm and order were their watchwords.

2. We were notified by the school that the doors to the auditorium would not open before 7:15, about 15 minutes prior to curtain. So there was no need to try to make a mad dash for the door any earlier. It wouldn't work. There would be guards at the door - namely, Mrs. Lawshe, the head of the lower school, and Dr. Taylor, the headmaster. I was okay with that.

So, David and Elizabeth were collected from their respective schools, and we went home for a light meal of chicken nuggets from Carl's Jr. (they like the star-shaped chicken) and Trader Joe's mac-n-cheese. David was jumping all over the place - skipping, leaping, hopping, and twirling about the kitchen, chanting, "I'm so excited! Holiday sing! I'm so excited!" Interspersed with this was his offering to clue me in on each and every song to be sung by the lower school, middle school, and upper school kids. He described in great detail a song that was to be performed by the 6th through 8th grade students. All I could fathom was that it included throwing a lot of presents and was to be sung to the tune, "Carol of the Bells." I was confused, but I went with it.

Dinner consumed, we headed upstairs to put on our "Sunday best." David cut a dashing figure in his sweater, tie, button down shirt and khaki pants. Let me add here that I'm extremely lucky to have the only seven-year-old boy I know who loves wearing a tie.

Elizabet opted for more casual fare, and went with her traditional holiday donut dress; I was hoping she'd wear something with a bit more Christmas colors, but this was a battle I was happy to not pursue.

And, at 6:30 p.m., we were in the car. As we started the three mile drive to David's school, I reminded the kids that we were not to show up to David's classroom before 7:15.

"So, guys, we'll probably be early, but that's okay, because once we get a parking space we can listen to some Christmas music in the car." I'd recently downloaded the two "Big Time Rush" (a Nickelodeon show) Christmas songs, and thought this would help to pass the time nicely.

"I'm so excited! I can't wait! Holidays sing!" my little guy called from the back seat.

The slots in the main parking lot off of Harrison Avenue were already taken, so we grabbed a space on the lower field playground, which is always transformed into overflow parking for such events. Rain was coming down in a steady drizzle by this time, and so I was content to listen to the iPod for a few minutes.

"What song shall we hear first?" I asked.

There was much debating, but the back seat crew finally settled on "Beautiful Christmas" by Big Time Rush. The tune was played and we sang along. That killed approximately five minutes. 6:40. Only 30 minutes to go.


"And, next?" I asked?

That's when I could hear David getting anxious. He hemmed and hawed, and started to do his exasperated breathing.


"Sweetie, what's up? It's not time to go in yet." I reminded him.


"But ... but ... whenever the clock in the car says 7:00 it's always 7:05 in Mr. Collins' room!" he cried.


"You mean, the classroom clock runs five minutes fast?" I asked.


"No! No! It's just that it always says 7:05 when our clock says 7:00!" he replied, making it all sound so logical.


A bit of back and forth ensued, and by this time it was 6:50. We struck a deal. One more song, and then we'd start heading up to the classroom to wait to be let in. Cue Big Time Rush's cover of "All I Want for Christmas (is You)."


Song over, the kids bounded out of the car. I had to remind them that 1) it was raining, 2) it was slippery, and 3) I really didn't want them jumping into puddles while wearing nice clothes ... at least not before the Holiday Sing.


As we got onto campus, I instantly saw that I was not the only parent dragged to school early by overly-eager kids. The courtyard outside the first and second grade classrooms was all abuzz with kids all dressed up with somewhere to go. They ran, they chased, they hopped, and they (literally) climbed the walls.


Arriving at Mr. Collins' room, we found the door to be locked. Smart man! That didn't deter David and his cronies from jiggling the handle, repeatedly and incessantly.

"Why won't this door open?" shouted one young lady.


"Let's go around to the other side!" called out another. Soon, a bevvy of first graders were holding court at both doors to the classroom, willing them to magically open.

A few other moms and I tried to restore a bit of order, and asked our little ones to gather for a few pre-show photos. We were successful, to some extent; that is, when the kids were not jumping, skipping, and (literally) climbing the walls.

 At the magic time of 7:15, the first grade teachers courageously let their excited pupils come in. It was officially pre-show time!

They tried to sit still and be good, but man, it was difficult! Nevertheless, I stared in absolute awe and pride at these beautiful little kids, excited and ready to share the holiday spirit with their school. They were beauties!


Seeing that we could not be of much more help, Elizabeth and I set off to find some seats. By this time, the line to the auditorium snaked through the courtyard, around the first and second grade classroom building, and all the way to the front office. We figured that in terms of getting a seat in which we could even see the top of David's head was pretty much nil.


When the doors opened, we slowly made our way with 300 of our closest friends and entered the auditorium. By this time, Elizabeth insisted on being carried. While I'm always happy to oblige, it's never easy when wearing a skirt and high-heeled boots.


We wandered around a bit, and saw pretty much every seat either taken or saved. I headed toward the front of the auditorium, and laid eyes on two empty seats in the very front row. On the right-hand side of the auditorium, where David instructed me to sit as that would give me the best view of him.


"Excuse me, but are these seats taken?" I asked meekly of a very nice family sitting down.


They all looked at each other and then at me. "Not at all," one gentleman said. "Have a seat." Another Christmas miracle!


We sat, with Elizabeth happily curled up on my lap. "Mommy, when is the curtain going to open?" she asked at 7:20, 7:25 and 7:28 p.m.


"Pretty soon, sweetie!" I replied.


Like clockwork, Dr. Taylor, the headmaster, came to the stage at 7:30 to officially welcome everyone to this most wonderful of Foothill traditions. On with the show!


Each section of songs were introduced by eighth graders - extremely mature and poised young ladies and gentlemen who were fabulous MCs for the festivities.


Up first, the kindergarten through second grade classes. David was right in the front row, directly in front of us. Somehow, his sweater had mysteriously disappeared, but he still looked handsome in his shirtsleeves and tie.

When David saw us beaming at him from the front row, he grinned ear to ear and even  gave a small wave.

And those kids sang their hearts out! Three songs - "Susie Snowflake," "Hello to all the Children of the World," and "My Two Front Teeth" were performed with gleeful abandon. David, in all his glory, was animated, happy, and clearly into the performance. He concentrated on every word, and glanced my way just every so often. I was a proud mommy, even as David occasionally stuck his hand down his pants. You know, just checking to make sure everything was in place. Like every two minutes.


I leaned over to my new friend and whispered, "which student is yours?"


He pointed me in the direction of his sweet, second grade nephew. "Which one is yours?" he asked.


"The little blond boy in the front row with his hand down his pants," I quietly replied. My new friend nodded understandingly.


The show continued with Hanukkah and Christmas songs from the third through fifth grade classes, and then the sixth, seventh, and eighth graders took the stage. The did a Hanukkah song complete with traditional dancing, and "O Come all ye Faithful" in both English and Latin. Then came the "Carol of the Bells" number that David tried explaining to me earlier. It was a riot! Titled "UPS Carol of the Bells," it was indeed sung to the tune of the traditional carol, but with new words having something to do with harried UPS drivers. Yes, packages flew with abandon as the kids reenacted what must typically be the scene at UPS offices world-wide on the days before Christmas.


The celebration concluded with a rousing rendition of "Have a Happy," and was sung to the school's beloved Eleanore Pierson, one of the founding staff members and parents of the school. Mrs. Pierson celebrated her 90th birthday this year, and as she was escorted to the stage to join in the last song, the room lit up more than ever.

The evening ended with the traditional cookie reception in the gym, and David and Elizabeth munched happily on whatever confection they could get their hands on. Well, almost any.

We bid our Foothill friends a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and slipped out the door at around 8:30, only to find that our station wagon was temporarily blocked in by another car. In the spirit of the evening, the three of us agreed that we could patiently wait for the car's owners to arrive, and continued to listen to Christmas tunes in the car. This time, there wasn't as much of a rush to be anywhere immediately. We hummed and sang as the rain continued its steady drizzle, and about five minutes later, we were on our way home.