Missing Bug

Sometimes I am completely overwhelmed by how much I miss Hailey. Yesterday, out of nowhere, I found myself in tears wishing I could just call her and talk to her. I’m so glad she’s on a mission, and I genuinely love emailing with her and hearing about all the experiences she’s having, but there’s something about not being able to call her and chat that is just hard sometimes. Luckily, Mother’s Day is coming which means we can skype, and I’m so excited to have a real conversation with her.

Hailey is my best friend. Even through the years when we weren’t very nice to each other, we had each other’s backs. She could always make me laugh and show me a new perspective when I was struggling, and I was one of the only people who could get away with telling her when she was being just a touch overdramatic. My appreciation for Hailey really grew when we were in high school together. We are so different, but we were involved in pretty much all the same things and spent more time together than we had since we were toddlers. I really came to appreciate her honesty and her black and white worldview even though I didn’t always agree with her.

Our differences are the most enriching part of our relationship. People who don’t know us super well notice that we’re very different, but they often misplace our differences. I still remember people telling me that I was a people pleaser and that Hailey was blunt and didn’t care about people’s reactions. I laughed out loud. Just because my energy is more still and my resting volume is lower, does not mean that I am a people pleaser. Hailey has always been far more concerned about people pleasing than I have. She is intuitively more empathetic than I am. She forgives with more ease than I do. She is better at making friends and including people in her life. She is one of the most service-oriented people I have ever known. She has so many gifts that I have tried to emulate more in recent years. Sure, she’s also loud and blunt and argumentative and thinks she’s always right, but all of these things complete the picture of my sister and best friend. (But she can’t always be right because I’m always right). ;)

When Hailey decided to come to UVU, I was thrilled. I was so excited just to be living in the same city again. Knowing that I could call her and see her within ten minutes was such a gift. She moved to Orem when I was five months pregnant with Will and Ty was in New York for a job training. She stopped by my apartment to check in on me; we met up on campus; she dragged me into social situations. If she hadn’t been in Orem, I probably would have spent the whole month watching Netflix in my bedroom. Then after Will was born, she continued to serve me. She would come over and just take him on a walk, so I could sleep for a little bit. She would talk to me when I felt like I was going crazy from all the one way conversations I was having with my newborn. She drove Will and me to Riley’s soccer games and the grocery store since I didn’t have a car most days.

I provided my washer and dryer, food, and a sounding board when she came over or we got together, but I know that I was blessed more by her than she was by me. It was sad for me when she moved home and then to California for the summer. I missed her a lot, but I could still call her between her work and adventures to connect when I needed her sunshine, and she called me when she needed me to lift her up. I miss that. I miss the day to day text messages and being able to share hugs and silence together when that’s what was needed.

Now, I send emails and letters and the occasional package, but it's different. I love sharing her mission with her this way, but I also miss the day to day, physical interaction. I watch Will smile and laugh when he sees pictures of grandparents, great grandparents, aunts and uncles, and there is no recognition when he sees Hailey's picture even though she held him more than Ty did some days. I know this will pass. She'll be home in less than a year, and I know she and Will will be best friends again, but I'm allowed to miss her in the meantime. And today, I really miss her.

Comfort from Conference

When Sister Wixom started her talk during the Women's Session of General Conference by talking about the miracle of birth, I was reminded again that there always seems to be something just for me in the messages from the leaders of the church. Obviously childbirth is something that I've been thinking a lot about lately, and Sister Wixom's words about our divine nature from birth really struck me. How marvelous to be able to know that I have a Father in Heaven who knows me personally and knows my unborn child in the same powerful and individual way. I'm just barely embarking on the journey of parenthood, but I'm constantly amazed by the new impressions I'm blessed with every day.

I still remember each of my siblings (with the exception of Hailey) being brought home from the hospital. It was always such a special time in our house when there was a new baby. Not only did it give my dolls a break, but there is a special piece of heaven each baby brings with them. It’s something that points back to the divinity of God. Thinking about the divinity within each person has had me thinking a lot about the divinity of my unborn child and the responsibility I have as a parent to teach my child (and subsequent children) about the light within each of us that comes from being a child of a Heavenly Father.

Such a heavy task completely overwhelms me sometimes. I look at the amazing parents all around me in the forms of my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends, and I am amazed by all they have accomplished in their roles as parents. Some days I am overwhelmed by the task of being a parent. Other days I feel empowered. After listening to the Women’s Session of General Conference, I felt empowered. That’s one of the reasons that I am looking forward to this weekend. I’m hoping to gain more wisdom and understanding about my role as a mother.

April Conference calmed many of my anxieties about parenthood as it occurred right when Tyler and I had decided to follow the prompting to start our family. It seemed like so many of the talks revolved around the importance of marriage and having a family. Even though the prospect of being responsible for this special spirit is daunting, I found myself comforted by the words of apostles as I so often am. In the past few months, when I find myself overwhelmed and anxious, I have found peace in many conference talks from April. Here are a few quotes that have brought me comfort in the process of preparing to be a mother.

“God ordained that men and women should marry and give birth to children, thereby creating, in partnership with God, the physical bodies that are key to the test of mortality and essential to eternal glory with Him. He also ordained that parents should establish families and rear their children in light and truth, leading them to a hope in Christ.” -D. Todd Christofferson

“The commandment to multiply and replenish the earth has never been rescinded. It is essential to the plan of redemption and is the source of human happiness. Through the righteous exercise of this power, we may come close to our Father in Heaven and experience a fulness of joy, even godhood. The power of procreation is not an incidental part of the plan; it is the plan of happiness; it is the key to happiness.” -Boyd K Packer

“We also believe that strong traditional families are not only the basic units of a stable society, a stable economy, and a stable culture of values—but that they are also the basic units of eternity and of the kingdom and government of God.” -L. Tom Perry

“A legal and lawful marriage sealed in the temple and in which the sealing covenants are honored gives parents and their children the opportunity for the best experience of love and preparation for a fruitful life. It offers them the ideal environment in which they can live their covenants made with God.” -Joseph W. Sitati

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/sessions/2015/04?lang=eng

Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam

It seems like my life is this swirling combination of work, school, Tyler, and primary. At any given moment, one of these four things will be demanding my attention with little deviation. Presently, I’m sitting in class, but I’m thinking about primary and how to help our class. At the end of December, the primary president asked Tyler and I to move from teaching the four and five year olds to teaching the sunbeams. We accepted and looked forward to teaching a new class. After nine months of teaching the CTR 4 class, I felt pretty prepared.

I wasn’t. I’ve written before about how overwhelmed I was after we started teaching primary, but this was different. We initially had eleven children on our roll. Our stake had just realigned the ward boundaries, so the primary was undergoing some serious changes, and we were some of the only teachers that stayed in our ward. After doing some recon and meeting the kids in our class, we ended up with nine. Anyone who has ever spent time with nine three-year-olds knows how crazy they can be.

Something I’ve learned is that every class has its own dynamic. Ours is very unique. We have two that are difficult. They push our buttons and are aggressive with us and the other kids. We have two more that don’t ever sit. They run in circles and do somersaults regardless of what we do. One of the kids in our class is deaf. We have two other kids that talk nonstop. They’re anxious to share their thoughts and tell stories at every opportunity. The last two are relatively quiet and sometimes get overshadowed by their louder and more rambunctious counterparts. That’s the general energy in our class, but that doesn’t account for the days when they (or we) are especially attentive or rowdy. Regardless, we get home every week exhausted.

Our primary president armed us with knowledge going into the new year, and that was unbelievably helpful. We have amazing leaders in our primary. I don’t feel judged, but I feel supported. It’s been such a blessing. When our primary president told us about our class, she mentioned that they might need to split the class or call a third teacher. After the first week, I felt great. After the second week, I felt like the class needed to be split. Now, after eight weeks, I still sometimes feel impatient or frustrated, but I have also become really attached to our little sunbeams. I understand if our leaders need to split the class, but part of me hopes they don’t. I hope they don’t split the class because it would break my heart to lose any one of them.

Anyway, here’s a list of some things I’ve learned from being a sunbeam teacher so far.

• It’s always appropriate to sing a fun song.
• Whether we sing “Rain is Falling,” “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam,” “Once There Was a Snowman,” or “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” etc, it always causes some giggles and makes class more fun.
• Taking turns is hard.
• I’ve never seen more children who want to say the prayer at the beginning or end of class. Sometimes, we end up saying several in order to keep the peace, and that’s okay.
• Sometimes, you just really need a snack.
• I used to be anti-snacks in primary, but with our class, it’s nearly impossible to go without a snack. The three-year-olds in our class have already been sitting still for two hours before we are in class together. Often they’re tired and hungry, and a handful of pretzels makes everyone feel better. Plus, it keeps their mouths full, so they’re relatively quiet.
• Everyone has something to share.
• When I ask a question as part of the lesson, I have to be prepared to listen to each child. They all want a chance to share what they know, and a lot of times, it has nothing to do with the lesson, but everyone deserves to be listened to.
• A hug can fix any kind of hurt.
• Whether you’ve fallen off of your chair or someone hurt your feelings, a hug can make it better. Sometimes at the end of church, my lap is really tired, but I love that the sweet children in our class insist that I can make them feel better with a simple hug or kiss.
• Reading books is pure magic.
• I have a book about reverence called “Monday I Was a Monkey.” When I read it in class, the kids were enraptured. I’ve never seen them so still or excited about something.
• Beanbags are magical too.
• I will never again be caught at church without a beanbag on my person. In both of our primary classes, they’ve loved having the chance to catch the beanbag in order to answer a question or share a story. It helps everyone pay attention and makes listening more fun.
• The kids who act out are often the ones who need some extra love.
• There are several children in our class that are a little bit difficult to interact with, but what I’ve learned is that those children need some extra love and attention. Sometimes they need more turns than the other kids, or they need responsibility or a special assignment.
• There’s no such thing as a cookie cutter kid.
• Every child is different. There’s no recipe for how to teach every child or what is going to be each child’s favorite activity. I don’t like to be part of blanket-statements, so I shouldn’t consign three-year-olds to them.
• Consistency is a must.
• People need consistency, and children do too. I’ve noticed that the children in our class look forward to having the same teachers every week. If Tyler doesn’t come into the primary room with me for one reason or another, I answer to nine children as to if Brother Johns is here today and why he isn’t there yet. It’s so important to be able to build relationships with children you teach.
• Life isn’t consistent.
• Even though consistency is super important, it’s also hard to nail down. Just because one week class goes well, does not guarantee that next week will be successful. This inconsistency exists in each person too. Sometimes, one activity will be awesome one time and horrible the next. One child may be docile one minute and hyper the next. That’s what life is like. We can’t expect things to always go smoothly.
• Jesus wants us all the be sunbeams.
• We can all shine as brightly as the sweet three-year-olds that I get to spend time with each week. If it’s hard to remember that we all have light to share, take a leaf out of your local three-year-old’s book. Even when they are being naughty or challenging your patience, they can reflect love and light, and we should do our best to do that too.

We're missing a few in this picture,
but here we are in our sunbeam glory.

Be Thou Humble In Thy Calling

Tyler and I are primary teachers. We teach the CTR 4 class, and that means that on Sundays we get to play with four and five-year-olds instead of going to Sunday School and Relief Society and Elders Quorum. Tyler thinks it’s a great gig. I do too, but some weeks I miss Relief Society. When we were first called to be primary teachers, I was excited, and then we taught our first lesson, and I was freaking out. We got home from church after our first week as primary teachers, and I was a basket-case. I told Tyler that there was no way I could be a primary teacher. I’m not fun enough. I’m not creative enough. I’m not patient enough. Basically, I’m not enough.

Tyler assured me that we would figure it out and get into the swing of things, but I was doubtful. How could I really be a good primary teacher when Tyler and I both were in school full time and working part time? When would I be able to prepare the lessons? How was I going to not lose my mind in a room full of eight energetic four-year-olds? I took a step back and figured we would do the best we could and hopefully the kids would enjoy it and sometimes remember something spiritual. I was amazed when I was set apart. The man performing the blessing blessed me that I would be able to manage my time well and even have extra time for my hobbies. He also blessed me to be inspired to know what specific things the children in our classes needed. I felt peaceful after that, if still a little overwhelmed. Then I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t have been called if I couldn’t do it, so I got to work.

I called my mom after that first week and she gave me a “bag of tricks.” It’s this magic bag full of primary bingo cards, bean bags, wands, puzzles, a matching game and all other things that make four-year-olds’ worlds go round. I went back to church, and things went a little better, but we had a major reverence problem. I could not figure out how to teach little kids to sit still and listen. It was easy in class because I could let them stand up and twirl around or hop on one leg for a minute, but they couldn’t listen during sharing time at all. I pondered and prayed and came to the conclusion that we would do the best we could, and we would make reverence books during class. We worked on a page a week, and then I took them home and laminated them and put them together.

It was a project inspired by a reverence book I had made to help me be reverent during the sacrament when I was in primary. They had words to our favorite primary songs and pictures of my favorite temples and of Jesus and of my family. It worked for me, so I figured I would give it a try with our class. The kids loved them almost as much as they loved using glue sticks to make them. Slowly, the kids in our class began to be more reverent. I don’t know if it can be traced back to the reverence books, but I was grateful for the improvement.

Last Sunday, the sacrament meeting talks were about humility. They were fantastic, and I found myself nodding along with everything they said. Then one of the speakers read the words of the hymn Be Thou Humble. It’s one of my favorite hymns. I’ve always loved it, but it had been a long time since I listened to the words of the second verse. It says:

“Be thou humble in thy calling, and the Lord thy God shall teach thee

To serve his children gladly with a pure and gentle love.

Be thou humble in thy longing, and the Lord thy God shall take thee,

Shall take thee home at last to ever dwell with him above.”

I was so moved. I know that we are all God’s children, but I had literally been teaching children about Jesus and about the gospel. I realized that I had been blessed “to serve his children gladly with a pure and gentle love.” I didn’t start out feeling that way, but over the course of the last eight months, I have truly learned to love those crazy, wonderful children in a new and special way, the way that God loves them.

I gave the kids the books they had made. The excitement in their eyes was amazing. Several of the children told me that they loved me and gave me perfect hugs that only children can give. I was so humbled by the love that I have come to feel for each child. So often I have had glimpses of the love Heavenly Father has for these sweet children in our class. I am in awe of the strong personalities that they have that will help them stand up for what’s right as they continue to grow and learn. I feel so blessed to be their teacher.