A PARENT’S VIEW
IT’S the Nativity play time of year again. This is sadly (I think) no longer a part of my life, but for many years it dominated my existence in late November/early December.
I remember a potentially disastrous combination of exhausted and often ill children (not to mention the parents and teachers) and pre-Christmas excitement. Yet it always seemed to end up okay and I have loads of happy memories of school Nativities.
Top of the list must be the lessthan-dignified jostling for position. Parents arrive extraordinarily early for the Nativity show to get a good seat. I have not known anyone actually camp out the night before, but I wouldn’t rule it out. I recall a line of bedraggled parents who have left work early and braved the Christmas traffic trying to chat cheerfully in the pouring rain or the sub-arctic temperatures while keeping one eye on the school door. Then the doors are flung open and social niceties are thrown to the wind as parents turn into front rowseeking missiles.
Next comes the dilemma of choosing a seat. This is fraught with difficulty as you will be unsure of exactly where your little one will be on the stage. You need to see them and, more importantly, they need to see you or you will be accused of not turning up and they will hold it against you well into their 30s.
There will usually be a “star of the show” and this has nothing to do with the quality of the performance. Every year there is one child that “makes” the show but you don’t necessarily want it to be yours. Children have become infamous because they threw up, fell off the stage, had a major wardrobe malfunction or dozed off halfway through.
You can expect the cast to be decimated by disease. I have yet to see a Nativity play with every member of the original cast still standing, as December is the month when germs run riot in primary schools. Understudies are unlikely to be on standby, so the Year Six kids will be thrust on to the stage clutching a script.
Finally, Mary and Joseph’s parenting skills will be called into question. Joseph tends to stand proudly by the crib, looking slightly bewildered and accepting various gifts. Mary may get the chance to actually hold baby Jesus. If she tenderly picks him up supporting the head, this will be met with sighs of approval and admiration. If she grabs him by the leg or neck or, heaven forbid, drops him, she can forget earning money as a babysitter when she is a teenager. People have long memories for this sort of thing, you know.
Dr Sharon Parry is a mother of three and a former public health research fellow. She shares useful tips and her experiences of having three daughters in school and university in Wales on her website www. aftertheplayground.com