I saw the notice in Ellie’s backpack about the upcoming primary grade Christmas Talent Show.

She told me all about the audition process, how kids in her class would get together in groups, wear adorable Christmas hats and either sing a Christmas carol of their choosing or dance to a Christmas song.

In either scenario, it seemed like a fun way to show some Christmas spirit with little pressure on any one “star” to showcase their Eye of the Tiger gymnastics routine on a temporary wooden stage in front of her entire school whilst her leotard rode itself into unmentionable places. But I digress….

It sounded as though everyone in her class was going to try out but just two acts would be selected to move onto the big show.

I asked Ellie if she was going to sing or dance, who she was going to collaborate with and on what song.

Ellie: I’m auditioning alone. I’m going to sing Owl City’s ‘Fireflies.’

Gulp.

I know Ellie is not feeling any stress about this so why should I? As a parent, we worry so much about our kid’s feelings being hurt, not making it to the next round. I don’t know that kids (at least at this age) feel it the same way. I just wished, GOD I wished she would let the firefly idea fizzle and join her buddies in a holiday jig.

Also, when she sang me Owl City’s ‘Fireflies’ which seemed to be chosen completely at random, with nothing to do with Christmas, she was getting the lyrics totally wrong.

The line, “You’d think me rude but I would just stand and stare,” had become, “You think I’m blue but I was just standing (pause) there.” And so on and so on.

She also developed a really nasally sound also known as her “good singing voice” and practiced shouting in case the microphone (there is no microphone) wasn’t working. What?

When I suggested yelling might not be the best idea she said, “It’s okay Mom. I can yell pretty.”

Bless her.

I didn’t worry about the kids making fun of her (as shocking as that might be) because I’ve seen grade two, close up. The kids don’t poke fun at each other just yet because they’re still poking themselves with dull pencils.

We call this, a transition year.

My fear was that she wouldn’t make it and be crushed.

I know what you’re thinking. What a great life lesson it is to learn to deal with disappointment but sometimes I want to take life lessons and feed them to the sharks. We all want our kids to be accepted.

It also didn’t help that big sister Hanna kept saying, “Ellie, instead of practicing, maybe you should save your voice.”

Ellie came off the bus at the end of the day wearing her scarf wrapped around her arm like a tensor bandage.

Oh my God, someone hated the song, knocked her down and kicked her in the arm. Or maybe the teacher announced the results to the eclectic group of auditions and Ellie slammed her arm down when she heard the bad news.

“Hi Mom, I hurt my arm today so this is my cast. Just kidding! Oh, by the way, I get to sing in the talent show.”

Now what?