From Only to Oldest

It’s been an amazing month with adding Simon to our family and the adjustment that has entailed. The person who has been affected most directly is obviously Will. For Tyler and I, the adjustment has been pretty smooth. We feel like we have more of a clue as to how to be parents this time around than we did with Will, and that’s been empowering. Of course, having a newborn is always exhausting, but it hasn’t rocked our world the way it did with Will. This could be because Simon is more easy-going than Will, but whatever the reason, adding Simon to our world has been pretty great.

The person who has been most affected has definitely been Will. Going from the center of our world to sharing that space has really rocked his world. Luckily, he hasn’t taken that out on Simon. In fact, he adores Simon. He regularly has meltdown when I won’t let him pick Simon up by himself or hold him every second of every day or wake him up whenever he feels like it.

What Will has struggled with is that I am no longer at his complete disposal all the time. Now that it’s been a month, he’s doing better, but the first two weeks were a serious battle. He was especially jealous when I would nurse Simon. Even though Ty and I were trying to be really intentional about spending one on one time with Will every day, he was still a disaster. He was acting out and being really contrary and having emotional breakdowns at every turn. It was exhausting and frustrating, but my overwhelming feeling was actually sympathy.

Watching Will struggle so much has been the hardest aspect of my postpartum experience this time around. I’ve recovered really well and quickly physically. I haven’t felt depressed or even had the blues. But my heart keeps breaking for Will. It breaks when he asks me if he can nurse or if he can snuggle with me while I’m rocking Simon to sleep. I want to cry when I tell him I’ll help him in a minute and he starts crying and asking for his daddy. It’s been really hard. In a lot of ways, it has felt like having Simon has made me a worse mom to Will.

I know that’s not the reality and that this is a period of adjustment that won’t last forever, but it has been really hard on my mommy heart. In a lot of ways, I miss being Will’s one and only. I miss being able to give all my attention to one little human. I wouldn’t change our life for anything; I love Simon, and I’m so glad he’s here, but I finally understand why people choose to have one child and leave it at that. Both of my boys are important to me and fill my heart-- I just want to be real about the fact that it’s been really hard. I’ve never been so frustrated with Will before, and then I’m angry with myself for being so frustrated with a toddler who is just beginning to learn about emotion regulation and sharing and love and family.

When Simon was born, I thought that I would want to spend the first day just with him and Ty and no one else. I was surprised when, just minutes after Simon’s birth, my thoughts turned to Will. My heart ached for him to be with us. I wanted to snuggle and kiss him and introduce him to his brother. It was almost as hard for me to wait for my mother-in-law to bring Will to the hospital as it was to wait for Simon to be released from the NICU and brought back to me. Each of my boys holds an important place in our family and my heart, and I am so grateful to have them both. I just didn’t realize that my heart was going to feel so bruised while it stretches and grows to find its new normal.

Today, Will wanted to be held all. day. long. It was exhausting. Not only is it physically exhausting to hold a toddler constantly, but it’s emotionally draining to have him pulling on me, asking me to pick him up when I’m trying to keep our household together and take care of an infant on top of addressing Will’s needs. When I was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated this afternoon, I turned on some music, and Will and I ended up waltzing around the kitchen and living room. It started as an effort to stop his whining, and it ended with us giggling and then snuggled up in the rocking chair.

It’s hard for me to take the time to sit down and snuggle with Will. So much of my time lately is dominated by snuggling Simon while I nurse him or put him down for a nap, and when I am not doing one of those things, I don’t really want to be sitting and sharing my body with another tiny person, especially because said tiny person seems to be extremely gifted in the department of smashing his body into the most sensitive parts of my body. I’m glad that I can hold him though. I’m grateful that I don’t have to go back to work following Simon’s birth. I am overwhelmed by the complexity of motherhood and the fact that I can be so full of love that my heart aches and simultaneously want to shut myself in the bathroom and never interact with my toddler again.

I guess that’s life though. It’s beautiful and messy and exhausting and fulfilling. I’m glad this is my life. I just think there is power in transparency, and in the interest of being honest, this has been a really hard transition on the Will front. I’m glad it’s getting better, and it feels like I can see the light at the end of a long, emotionally-fraught tunnel because I really love this crazy, wonderful two-year-old, and I really love being a mom.

I Am So Tired

Some fun on Trax. Will was in heaven.

I don’t remember being this uncomfortable at the end of my pregnancy with Will, and I don’t remember it being so hard to get enough sleep. Maybe it was, and my brain is being merciful by not remembering, or maybe this pregnancy has been so different from the last one that I am seeing more and more discrepancies than similarities. My pregnancy pillow is doing nothing to help with the discomfort of trying to sleep, and baby’s most active time is usually from 10 pm to about 2:30 am. It’s distracting above all else, but I know from my experience with Will’s birth that I’ll actually miss feeling the kicks and wiggles of this little guy once he’s born.

I’m looking forward to this baby’s birth. I know that labor is challenging, but I also know that it results in a sweet little baby. I’m so excited to see his face and kiss his head and argue with Tyler about his name. I can’t wait to introduce him to his big brother. I love this baby so much, and Will has been especially interested in all things “baby brother” this week which warms my mommy heart to bursting and results in a cry fest.

I’ve been a basketcase the last few days. It’s like my eyes are always primed and ready to cry at any time. Will does something adorable? Tears. The baby moves in a surprising way? Tears. I’m out of cookies? Tears. I’m tired? Tears. Will takes his first train ride? Tears. My sister gets home from her mission? Tears. It takes Will 45 minutes to eat his little bowl of breakfast? Tears. Driving home in the dark, and Will is singing the Hundred Acre Wood song in the back seat? Tears. It’s just my natural response to everything. The crying response seems more heightened this time around too.

I’m having a hard time with the waiting game this time. When we were waiting for Will’s birth, I was excited, but I wasn’t in a hurry for him to be born. I think there was a little undercurrent of fear in the face of the responsibility of parenthood. But this time, there’s no avoiding that because I’m already a mom, and I know that along with the stress and exhaustion and struggle of parenthood, there is true beauty and grace and so much love that you wonder if you can bear it. I already have that everyday, and I know that my heart will somehow expand to envelope this little person as well. I am humbled and overwhelmed by the opportunity to be a mother to another little human, and I am looking forward to it even though I know that I have many more sleepless nights and a postpartum recovery ahead of me.

Basically, I’m tired and tired of waiting for the baby’s birth even though I know logically that I probably have at least two weeks before this baby makes his debut. In the meantime, I’m trying to soak up as much one on one time with Will as I can and not drive everyone around me to insanity with my illogical concerns and incessant crying.

Mamas and Bodies: A Tribute to My Mom

My mom has taught me a lot about life and love and sorrow and struggle. She’s my number one role model, and she is a fantastic mother. She’s someone who strives to be the best in every capacity she fills. Something I’ve been reflecting on as I prepare to give birth again is my relationship with my body, and it isn’t hard to see that the root of my feelings about my body come back to my mom.

I feel like I have a healthy body image. I trust my body. I do my best to take care of it. I know that it’s strong and powerful and a miraculous gift. And the reason I feel so positively about my body and empowered to do hard things physically is because of the way my mom talked to me about bodies and the way that she treated her own body as well. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realized how rare it is to have such overwhelmingly positive feelings about my body.

My mom is strong, and when I think back on my childhood, that is easy to recognize. She used to rollerblade, pushing a stroller, to drop Hailey and me off at school. Now she has a physically intense job as a birth assistant where she uses all her muscle groups to help women give birth. She’s always talked about exercise positively, and I never heard her speak negatively about anyone’s body, including her own. She never called me skinny or chubby. When we talked about bodies, she would talk about being healthy and feeling strong.

We didn’t talk about or focus on sizes or weight in my house growing up. I don’t think it was something I ever even thought about. Even when my mom was working hard to lose weight after having babies, it wasn’t about getting down to a certain size or weight. It was about feeling comfortable in her clothes that she had worn before pregnancy and feeling strong and healthy rather than skinny. I’m grateful that that was the focus because even now I don’t worry about my weight or my size as long as I feel strong and healthy.

I also appreciate that my parents taught me about food. My mom taught me to cook. She always provided fruit and vegetables, and she explained the way metabolism works. I still vividly remember her describing the importance of breakfast in pulling your body out of starvation mode and starting your day off well. It’s something that made a huge difference in my college experience because I knew that it was important to eat before class. She talked to us about portion control. She also made and ate cookies with us. She wasn’t starving herself or only eating kale.

My mom wasn’t critical about what I chose to put into my body either. She would ask me sometimes if I had eaten anything with any nutritional value that day, but she didn’t make me feel guilty if I had three helpings of dinner or if I snitched a cookie out of the freezer. The lack of shame that I feel about food and my body is a gift that my parents gave me, and it’s one that I am super grateful as an adult.

I remember when my mom explained menstruation to me. She used words like miraculous, strong, and powerful. I learned that my body is a gift and that it is capable of incredible feats. It was a similar experience whenever my parents would teach my siblings and me about childbirth. I never had fear about those physical experiences. I actually was excited to give birth even as a teenager because my mom talked about what a spiritual experience it was and how empowering it could be to realize that you could accomplish anything.

My mom has taught me more than any other human on this Earth (with my dad’s help), and I am so grateful that she is the example of womanhood that I have continually seen. I hope I can be a strong role model for my children and teach them about the beauty and power of our bodies.

When I'm Not My Best (As I Haven't Been Lately)

I’ve been battling with myself quite a bit since July. Being somewhat of a perfectionist, I try to be aware of my own personal development as much as I can, and I have not been happy with how I’ve been doing. I found out I was pregnant on July 9th, and I was so excited. I was already pretty sure because even before the positive test, I had felt some fatigue and nausea that reminded me of my pregnancy with Will. About a week after I took the test, I went down. Hard. I threw up so much and had no energy. I would spend most of my day lying on the couch watching Will play or leaning over the toilet trying to reassure my hysterical toddler that his mom was okay. This lasted for two and half months, and it was some of the longest days and weeks of my life.

There were many pajama days

I had the occasional good day, and weekends were better because Ty was home to take care of Will and me, but overall, I was a mess. Amid the vomiting and sleeping, I also learned that I had a placental bleed which is not usually dangerous, but it is something that needs to be monitored, and I needed to be extra careful to take it easy. It wasn’t hard to take it easy since I felt like I could barely walk most of the time, but it was a new sensation to be worried about my baby all the time. My pregnancy with Will was textbook, and on top of that I hardly ever felt nauseous and only threw up a handful of times. Even though I was working and in school for my whole pregnancy with Will, I was usually still able to take a nap if I desperately needed one or to go to bed at 7 to make sure I was getting enough rest. I’ve realized that it’s just harder to take care of yourself while also taking care of a toddler. In the midst of all the temporal chaos, spiritual feasting completely fell by the wayside, and forget any kind of intimacy in my marriage. Days would go by before I would realize that I hadn’t even had a conversation with Tyler beyond telling him how horrible I felt in days.

Making dinner sitting down because I couldn't stand

When I hit 12 weeks, I was sure I would start to feel better. I didn’t. I was still vomiting and still constantly exhausted. My poor toddler was a disaster. He’s a social boy, and not leaving the house for days at a time shut him down. He went home with my mom after she got off of work a couple of times, and he was so happy to be going somewhere and playing with people who could be more engaged. Sometimes I could muster the energy to drive to Pleasant Grove to my parents’ house and lie in the recliner all day while my parents and siblings took care of Will. I knew logically that my body needed rest, but I felt so guilty for the way some of Will’s needs (especially socially) were not being met (specifically by me) because I physically could not do anything to help and support him.

I cried to Tyler that I wasn’t being a good person, and I was an even worse mom. He reassured me that I was doing everything I could, and that it was okay to take care of this baby and myself. Several friends and siblings shared hope with me when I couldn’t see any. I started to feel resentful that being pregnant was making me a bad mom to my child that I already had. I was doing a good thing, and it felt like I was being punished for it. Finally, at 17 weeks, I started to feel like a person again, and the negativity that had clouded my heart and mind for nearly three months started to lift.

My mom's famous recliner for the invalid,
emotionally sick, pregnant, or otherwise ailing

I know that I can’t fully comprehend the reality of living with a chronic illness, but I feel like I have a better ability to empathize with that trial after this experience. Just in the last week, I have finally been able to wake up earlier and read and study my scriptures and conference talks. Tyler and I have had meaningful conversations, and Will and I have made it to the park and on walks and to the store and to football games without me feeling like a dementor was sucking the life out of me. I’m grateful that I’ve reached the light at the end of the tunnel, and I hope it keeps shining. I feel the baby move every day now, and even when I start to feel sick again, that reassures me.

As I think back over the last three months, I know that I wasn’t a horrible mom. I know that I wasn’t my best, but I did spend a lot of time lying on the couch, but with that came many snuggles with my sweet son and lots of reading time with his favorite books. Even though I couldn’t see my spiritual growth, I was sustained in my calling. I was able to play the piano at church each week and be prepared for our primary program even though I didn’t have the capacity to practice. There were miracles all around me that I am just now seeing, and I am so grateful to have open eyes.

I know that I can be better, but I also know that my effort wasn’t ever wasted. And even my desire to be a better mom was noticed by the Savior, and through the power of the atonement, I was able to nurture and help my son enough. I also know that even though there are other trials that are much harder than mine, that does not minimize my own experience and the challenges I have faced in the last few months. I am so grateful for my life and especially for my health, which I have previously taken for granted over and over again. I have a beautiful life, and I am so excited to have another little human joining our family in March. I know I will be supported and lifted in that endeavor just as I have through this trial.

Finally venturing outside, and look at Will's joy (and my exhaustion)

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.

In Awe

Sometimes I find myself in awe of motherhood all over again. When Will was first born, I found myself constantly taken aback by the miracle of life and babies. There was something just so sacred about seeing such tiny features on a perfect little body. I just didn’t anticipate that after a year, he would still take my breath away in unexpected ways. This morning, I was nursing him, and he looked up at me and smiled between swallows. There’s so much about being a parent that is overwhelming, but nothing is more overwhelming than the love I feel for Will.

For some reason, I was caught off guard this morning. Will’s love and affection is so pure and it blows my mind. I am amazed by his love. So often, I fall short as a mother. I lose my patience. I get bored being in the house constantly. I get distracted and am not as attentive as I could be. Will doesn’t mind though. He is forever forgiving. He has taught me so much about what the love of Christ really is. The way he always runs to me to give me a hug even when I’m not the best mom I could be is just one illustration of how incredible the love of a child truly is.

This illustration of love has been one of the greatest gifts of motherhood. Even though I get to experience a small piece of God’s love through the love I feel for my son, I also get to feel it in the love that Will shows me. Will has always been a snuggly baby, but he’s become more and more affectionate as he’s gotten older. He now gives kisses when you ask for them, and anytime Ty and I are kissing or snuggling on the couch, Will runs over to be part of the snuggles. I love it. I hoped that I would have physically affectionate children, and so far, my wish has been granted.

I still find myself feeling completely overwhelmed by the love I feel for the boys in my family. They bring so much joy and love into my life, and I feel so blessed to be experiencing life together. I find myself continually in awe of the beauty of God’s plan of happiness. I’m so grateful to be sealed in the temple and sharing my life with a family on this eternal journey.

Still an Individual

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about individuality. I’ve always been someone who resists being defined by others. I like to be my own person, and I try really hard not to let others’ choices and perceptions of me dictate who I am or how I live. But things shift when you get married and subsequently have a baby. In both instances, it’s easy to allow yourself to be absorbed by your spouse and/or child. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because of the example of someone I love and admire. He is such a kind and thoughtful man, but he has consistently allowed himself to be absorbed by his wife. Instead of cultivating his own individuality, he has been consumed by her needs and desires. His devotion to his wife was beautiful, but when she died, I have never seen anyone more lost. It seemed like he had no concept of himself without her. Marriage involves “becoming one” with your partner which is something that personally brings me great joy. I know it is important to be unified, and I would feel like I had lost half of myself if I lost Ty, but I would still have myself, and I see tremendous value in that.

Sometimes, I find bits of myself slipping away as I get older. It’s great when I find myself letting go of selfishness and insecurity, but sometimes I find myself reminding myself that in conjunction with being a wife and mother and sister and daughter, I am still an individual. I love to read and take baths in silence. I enjoy writing to process my thoughts and feelings more deeply. I am passionate and can be loud. These are some of the things that make me who I am, and I don’t have to watch them disappear because it’s hard to make time to be a separate individual and they aren’t interests and characteristics that Ty and I share. While our similarities are what have allowed us to build a strong foundation together, our differences enrich our relationship. Over the course of the last three years, I feel like Ty and I have done a good job of maintaining our individuality while be married, but then Will was born, and as it’s supposed to, everything shifted.

The reality of parenthood is that there is far less time for yourself which is great as it helps you be more aware of the needs of others, but it’s also easy to ignore yourself and your needs. Nothing brings me more joy than being a mother, but there is also nothing that makes it easier to neglect myself. A friend of mine recently posted a picture that read something like, “Self care is not selfish.” I feel so strongly about this. Of course it’s important to prioritize your children’s needs, but it ultimately hurts your whole family if you don’t also address your own needs. I genuinely need alone time in order to maintain my mental health, and it is hard to come by as a parent. Luckily, Ty is amazing, and he is aware of my individual needs and does everything in his power to help me be the best person, spouse, and mother that I can be, but it’s something that takes almost daily effort and mindfulness.

Sometimes as a stay at home mom, I feel like I occupy a separate dimension. This is especially true in the winter. Sometimes I go days without leaving our apartment. It’s such an ordeal to get Will adequately bundled to go out in the snow, and I don’t like being cold, so we end up reading all the same books and singing all the same songs and playing with all the same toys everyday. It gets monotonous, and I don’t think it makes me a bad mom to admit that. I’ve been blessed to make some good friends since we moved to Cottonwood Heights who are in the same stage of life that I am, and that has helped me far more than I even imagined it could. I’ve always been kind of a loner, but I have never realized how much I truly need the friendship of like-minded women in my life. It has honestly made me a better person and by extension a better mom. I’m so grateful for friends and family members and especially a husband who understand my daily life and consistently help me to be better. It’s a beautiful gift.

I’m glad that I am married to a man I share so much with. I love being a mom to a child who consumes so much of my heart and mind. Being part of my family and friend groups lifts my soul and brings me joy. But I am still an individual, and I’m supposed to be.

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.