[Welcome, people searching for child-sized tubas! I wrote this post in 2011, back when I was the desperate parent of a 4-year-old wanting a tuba for Christmas. In the ensuing years thousands of people have found their way to this post, all most likely searching for the same giant magic for a pint-sized loved one. I just wanted to say HI, I SEE YOU, AND I’M ROOTING FOR YOU TO FIND THE PERFECT MUSICAL GIFT FOR YOUR LOVED ONE! I encourage you to read all the comments from fellow searchers — and tubists — who have chimed in over the years. There’s some great advice down there. The fact that you’re looking for an answer, rather than just telling a kid they have a silly dream, means you’re a pretty damn good parent/guardian/big kid already. Thanks for stopping by, and I wish you all the best! ~ Robyn]
I can’t tell you how many times in my four and a half years as a mom I’ve uttered in my heart the words “I will never be the type of mom who….” and approximately three weeks (months, years, days) later I find that I am EXACTLY THAT TYPE OF MOM AFTER ALL.
Case in point: Christmas.
Two months ago I had friends already searching the Internet, toy catalogs and Black Friday flyers to fulfill their children’s gift wish lists. How ridiculous, I scoffed silently, determined to not EVER become a slave to whatever hard-to-find, über-expensive gift my son might decide on a whim (because that’s pretty much how most little kids decide anything) he wants Santa to bring him. How could you gauge your child’s happiness on whether or not he or she gets one particular thing? I’ll never be that kind of mom.
Never.
Ahem.
The problem I’m up against here is that my 4-year-old only wants one thing for Christmas. At first I was thankful that he is still somehow unaware of what “hot” toys are out there, so his wish list is not filled with Squinkies or Zoobles or iPads or whatever most 4-year-olds are asking for this year. Today, however, I’d silently rejoice if he came to me and said, “Mommy, I really really really really want a Zooble* for Christmas.”
But I am not so lucky: My kid wants a tuba. And when I say “tuba” I mean a real tuba, not some plastic child’s toy version of a tuba, which is fine since that tragically doesn’t exist anyway. (Damn you, Bontempi, how can you make a toy sax, trumpet and clarinet but not a TUBA! Don’t you know they’re in demand this year?!)
We have had the following exchange in our house approximately 476 times since mid-November, because I keep hoping that one day he will magically change his mind:
Me: Kostyn, what do you want for Christmas this year?
Kostyn: A tuba.
Me: Wow, a tuba! What else do you want?
Kostyn: Nothing. I just want a tuba.
It soon became apparent he was not going to waver from this wish. When I told him tubas were hard to play and only kids who were 8 or 9 or 10 could play them, he said, “Well I’m 4 so I need a 4 tuba.”
When I told him tubas were reeeeeally big and heavy and he probably wouldn’t be able to lift one, he stood on his chair and took a huge gulp of milk and said, “I’m growing bigger every day and I can stand like this and play it!”
No joke, his letter to Santa this week included this heart breaker: “I love tubas and I will miss it if you can’t bring me one.”
Sigh.
Because I am a parent, and because parents have an inexplicable drive to want to make all their children’s dreams come true, a few weeks ago I started searching for a tuba. Because you never know, right? The first tuba I found online was listed at $5,995. Immediately I re-Googled “tuba,” adding the very important adjective “used.” Found one for $849. “With a case! And mouthpiece!” (Are mouthpieces usually not included, because hello…)
I knew this was ridiculous. Not only can we not afford a tuba, Kostyn couldn’t even hold a tuba if we could afford one, which let me reiterate for effect here WE CAN NOT. With the kind of December we’re having, we probably couldn’t even afford just the mouthpiece (I hear those are typically sold separately).
Bottom line: It’s not happening. I know this. And yet there he is, answering my friend’s very innocent “Kostyn what did you ask Santa Claus for Christmas?” question over the weekend with an exuberant “A tuba!”
The good news is, I can totally pin this whole thing on Santa. I’m already envisioning the note that will be attached to his present: “Sorry, kiddo, the tuba was too big to fit in the sleigh. Here’s a toy saxophone instead. Ho ho ho!”
But I feel somehow terrible for letting him down, as irrational as that is. This is the first year he “gets” Santa Claus, the first year he wrote the big guy a letter, and was SO EXCITED to get a note back (from Jingles the Elf, who said something like “Wow, a tuba! Those are pretty big and heavy, but I’ll let Santa know….” Thanks, Jingles for the setup…) in their special Santa Mailbox. It’s the first year he asks every morning, noon and night whether it’s Christmas yet.
What makes things worse, at least in my mind, is that Evan will be getting the only thing he keeps asking for: A trumpet. How can Santa deliver on one wish but not the other??
I have no doubt Kostyn will be happy on Christmas morning. I picked out some fun things I know he’ll love, and as I type this his dad is on the back porch in the cold December night building a wooden toy house for both boys that is sure to be a holiday highlight and a launching pad for their imaginations. Still, as a parent I can’t help but feel a little sad, hoping Kostyn sees his new toy saxophone for what it is — another fun musical instrument to add to his collection and use to drive his parents insane — not what it, sadly, isn’t.
And then I think, At least I’m not the kind of parent who would actually spend an exorbitant amount of money on a gift for her preschooler. I’ll NEVER be THAT parent…
[*Note: I have no idea what a Zooble is, or a Squinkie for that matter. But they exist! I promise you; I’ve seen postings about them on Facebook.]