Growing Up is Hard to Do

We started taking our nursery kids to Primary singing time two weeks ago.  The primary leaders are hoping to acclimate our little kids to primary before next week when the leave nursery and venture into Sunbeams.  It reminds me of Wendy when she explained to Peter Pan, “I have to grow up tomorrow.”  But our little babies don’t understand what is going on.

The first week we took them to primary they were overwhelmed.  One little boy sat in my lap the entire time and whenever the pianist began playing, he covered his ears to block out the noise.  Another little boy sat in Nate’s lap and after five minutes turned to Nate and said, “I want to go back to my class.”  After 10 minutes of primary the kids had about as much as they could handle so we told them it was time to leave. They literally ran down the hall back to the comfort and safety of nursery.

Last Sunday we tried again.  We had eleven - yes, ELEVEN - kids and only 3 adults.  We miraculously got them in a line in the nursery room and started walking them down the hall.  Obviously, the line did not last long.  When we got to primary they sat down in the back two rows of the room and behaved remarkably well.  I think their senses were overloaded and so they sat in stunned silence.

After about 2 minutes they began wiggling and some of the kids became weepy.  At one point I had three 3-year-olds in my lap at once.  That is something I’ve never accomplished before and quite honestly didn’t think was possible.  All I can say is 3-year-olds are persistent.

We lasted maybe ten minutes before none of the 11 bodies were sitting in their chairs any more.  The singing was completely lost on them- if they’re not singing “Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam,” “Once there was a Snowman,” “I love to see the Temple,” or “The Wise Man and the Foolish Man” they don’t respond at all.  So we whispered to them that it was time to go back to nursery.  Those were the magic words.  The kids were so excited to leave.  One of the little girls left us when we got into primary to sit with her mom, so I went to get her.  When I turned around, the other 10 kids were gone.  I stepped out into the hall and they’d already made it back to nursery after a mad dash down the hall, same as last week.

Poor kids.  They don’t know what’s in for them next month.  And we’ll miss them once they “grow up” and graduate from nursery.  Sometimes I wish there was a never-never land.

Twins

Rachel and Katie, 1988

My sister and I go to the same doctor.  I had an appointment a few days ago, and the nurses started talking about us behind the check-in desk.  I guess they must think it is sound-proof back there but since the desk is not an entirely separate room with a door and Plexiglas divider, I heard every word.  And this is what they were saying:

"That is Katherine.  Her sister Rachel comes here too.  They look exactly alike."

This is not the first time Rachel and I have heard we look exactly alike.

First time:  2003 YW basketball.  I was 18 and Rachel was 14 almost 15.  I had four fouls and so I was beginning to play a little more cautiously so I wouldn't foul out.  She and I were both on the court and the other team took possession of the ball and ran it down the court to their basket.  Just as the girl was making a lay-up, Rachel jumped in and blocked the ball by hitting the girl's arm.  A clear foul.  She ran out of the way just as I ran up to grab the rebound.  The ref's whistle blew.  "FOUL on 24!"  I looked down.  I was 24!  But I'd been no where near the shooter at the time of the foul.  My entire ward was shouting to the ref that she had the wrong sister, but she refused to relent.  I was fouled out of the game on my sister's foul.  Not a happy day.

Not 2003.  2008 at BYU.  Matching Socks!

Second time:  2003 YW basketball (again). The week after above-said basketball game.  Rachel and I intentionally wore our hair differently and wore different colored shorts so the refs would not make the same mistake again.  During one of the time-outs a girl from the other team came up to me and said, "Are you two twins?"  Later in the game Rachel was fouled and so she lined up to take foul shot.  The ref stopped her before she could - "Wasn't it her?" she said, pointing to me.  Irritated, Rachel said, "NO!" and gestured to her shorts to show that we were not even dressed the same.

Third time:  2008 EY.  Shortly after Rachel was married, I brought in this picture to put on my desk at work:

A coworker (who, I will admit, did not know me well) saw the picture and asked me how long I'd been married.  

Please look at the picture again, and note that Rachel and I have our faces right next to each other and she is most definitely the one in the white dress.

Fourth time:  2010 Dr.'s Office.  I had an appointment and the nurse came out to call me back from the waiting room so she could check my vitals.

Nurse:"You look so much better!"  Whoa.  I'm not usually greeted this way.
Me: "Um, what do you mean?"
Nurse:  "Well, you were so sick last week, you looked pretty bad."
Me:  "I wasn't sick last week."
Nurse:  "Yes you were.  Didn't you come in?"

Stirling Family Reunion, 2010

Then it dawned on me.  Rachel had been very sick the week before with the flu or something miserable like that.

Me:  "Oh, that was my sister!"
Nurse:  "Whoa.  You two look so much alike!"

I always thought a twin sister would be cool and I can't think of anyone I'd rather be twins with than Rachel.  The thing is, our family cannot see the "remarkable" resemblance at all.  Sure, we're both tall and have dark hair but other than that, we don't think we look too much alike.  It does provide us with a lot of amusement, though, when we're mistaken for each other.  I'm sure we'll both continue to collect stories!

Driving in the Snow

I do not like driving in the snow.  I blame it on several scary experiences that happened one Thanksgiving about 14 years ago in Vermont and New Hampshire.  (Read: spinning off the road into a mountain, driving through a white out, and sliding down my grandparent's steep driveway while begging dad to let us walk up the hill to the house - "You can't!  I need your weight in the back of the car!")

View from our Apartment

Yesterday we had our first big snowfall of the season.  I typically enjoy the first snow, especially when I'm in the house with a fire going, a good book to read, and a view of the accumulating snow in the yard.  I had all of these when the snow started yesterday; the only problem was the house was not mine.  It was my parents'.

Mom offered to let me spend the night.  But I thought to myself, "The snow isn't too terrible.  It would be silly to stay here when my husband is at home."

So I loaded up the car (I always seem to bring a week's worth of "just-in-case" things to my parents' such as slippers, books, crocheting, computer, mail, etc.) and headed home.

The first few miles were clear enough.  But once I reached downtown, I couldn't see the freeway underneath the snow.  At one point the car in front of me switched lanes, completely covering my windshield with slush, making it impossible to see out the window.  Every time I switched lanes (which was not frequent), I lost traction with the road.

Luckily, most everyone was driving cautiously at about 40 miles per hour.  I say most everyone because there were a few complete idiots who decided to zoom past the rest of us while driving at freeway speeds.

I made it home safely but shaken.  Nate's first response was "She lives!" and a hug as I walked through the front door.  He was then shocked when I started bawling. He tried to calm me down and listened to my tirade against all things cold and wet.  When I told him about the "complete idiots" who were speeding down the road he said, "Oh.  I was one of those."

Apparently our driving styles differ.

Halloween

How do you celebrate Halloween?

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays.  I guess because it is the launching of the holiday season.  The colors are fun, the decorations are cute, and of course the candy and desserts are yummy.

In Utah, Halloween is celebrated on October 31.  Except for years when the 31st falls on a Sunday.  Then we celebrate Halloween on the 30th.  Or we celebrate it both days, to make the joy last longer.  Last year I was excited to hand out candy to all the little trick-or-treaters in my new neighborhood.  I went to the store and bought candy, decorated the front door, and sat back waiting for the treaters to come.  Not a single knock at the door.  Well, it wasn't too surprising since there weren't very many kids in our apartment complex.

This year we are in a new complex and there are a lot of children.  I know.  I've seen them.  So I went to the store and dutifully bought candy to hand out.  But I was perplexed; what day would the trick-or-treaters come?  I knew that in my parents' neighborhood, where the Mormon population is something like 99.99%, trick-or-treating was occurring Saturday night.  But the LDS numbers aren't nearly that high where I live.  I figured we'd probably have trick-or-treaters on Saturday and Sunday night.  So I sat with my bowl full of candy and waited.

While I was waiting, I decided to watch a movie.  Since it was Halloween, the thought entered my mind that I should watch a scary movie.  I quickly nixed that idea.  I hate being scared.  Absolutely hate it.  One year when I was still in school, my roommates and I decided we should watch a scary movie on Halloween.  So we gathered around the TV and watched Signs, a movie I'd seen once before and, although everyone says it is a tame movie, it still scared me.  That Halloween, I intentionally fell asleep during the movie so I wouldn't have to watch those creepy alien fingers reach under the door.

But I digress.  Saturday night, while waiting for trick-or-treaters, I watched a fluffy chick flick.  While it wasn't my favorite movie ever, I didn't have bad dreams.

On the actual Halloween night, Nate was home.  Like me, he wanted to watch a movie while we waited for trick-or-treaters.  Unlike me, he didn't want to stream the movie Babies from NetFlix.  No.  He wanted to watch a scary movie.  He wanted to watch The Sixth Sense.

Apparently, I'm one of the few human beings whose never seen this "classic" as he calls it.  "Katie, it's not that bad!  It's on the same line as Signs and The Others."  Both movies freaked me out when I watched them.  (He made me watch The Others last Halloween.)  I hemmed and hawed for a while, trying to distract him.  Couldn't we just read books instead?  Or write letters?  Or paint our toenails?

Alas, he gave me the most wounded look ever.  "It has never given me nightmares, Katie."  Puppy dog eyes.  I gave in.

I will admit, the movie didn't scare me too badly.  Probably because Nate warned me every time we were about to see a creepy ghost.  And the twist was pretty cool.

But it gave me nightmares.

I dreamed we were putting dead people in walls behind pictures.  Edgar Allan Poe's "The Black Cat" anyone?  Ick.  I woke up very relieved this morning just to be awake.  I've reached my scary movie quota for the year.  Actually, for my entire life, but I think next Halloween I'll have to watch another scary movie with Nate.  I'm already bracing myself for it.

And perhaps next year we'll have trick-or-treaters.  Two days of Halloween this year and not a single knock at the door.  I'll have to send the candy to school with Nate so it will get eaten.  After all, I just found some of last year's candy while I was making dinner tonight.

From the mouths of babes...

It's official.  We've been called to nursery.  And so, since we don't have kids of our own, you'll have to enjoy the stories we share about the kids in nursery.  Without further ado, some of our favorite quotes to date:

While putting together different puzzles with cars, planes, trains, etc. one of the boys told Nate:  "This is an ambulance.  It takes motorcycle people to the hospital."

When asked what his dad's name is, one little boy responded, "Ron."  When asked what his mom's name is, he said, "Just plain Mom."

While playing duck, duck, goose: "Duck, duck... (pause...place hand on head) I can't remember!  I can't remember!  I can't remember what comes NEXT!"

And today's kicker... I don't know how this one came up.  But one little boy told us, "The number one rule:  Don't be queer!"

Nate & Kate...Plus 8

Whenever Nate and I go somewhere new and introduce ourselves, we always get a chuckle.  "Nate and Kate, huh?  Like the TV show?"  Hahaha.  No.  First of all, it was Jon and Kate and second of all it didn't end all that well and we have higher hopes than that.

However, in the past few weeks we have acquired 8 children, give or take one or two.

It all happened a month and a half ago.  A harried member of our bishopric interrupted Sunday School, asking for a couple to volunteer for an hour to help in the senior nursery (yes, apparently we have a junior and a senior nursery) as the assigned couple did not show up.  You could hear the crickets in the room as people very carefully avoided eye contact with the bishopric member.  Nate and I looked at each other and figured, why not?  It was only for an hour until the next couple came in, right?  So, like the naïve young couple we are, we volunteered.

Did the next couple come for the last hour of church?  I think not.

And the primary/bishopric found their next victims.

We have not been called to nursery.  But for the past month we have been subbing.  Our class is for the 2 and 3 year olds and we usually end up with 8 kids.  It has been quite and adventure and has taught me that I do not have the requisite energy to follow in octomom's footsteps.

It has also taught me the following things about 2 year olds:

1.  They don't know how to play nice.
2.  Their attention span doesn't even last 20 seconds let alone 2 minutes.
3.  They already know their gender roles.

For point three, I have a rather interesting example that makes me ponder nature vs. nurture.  I mean these kids are little.  How much socialization regarding gender roles can they have yet?

There is a massive toy box in the nursery room that is padlocked shut.  At 11:15 we open the box for play time.  The first week I was surprised that there were very few "girl" toys in the box.  Mainly just action figures, cars, trains, and a rubber snake.  The kids love the rubber snake.  They love to attack each other with the rubber snake.  They love to attack the teachers with the rubber snake.

Well, everyone seemed happy with the lack of dolls, barbies, etc. in the toy bin and who was I to say anything?  I'm just the sub.

Two weeks ago, though, things came to a head.  One of the little girls came up to me with the snake.  I was pretty sure I was about to get eaten alive, as that is what usually happens.  When she started to hand me the snake I asked her if it was eating me.  She said, "No, it's a baby."

Okay, that did it.  We had to find our girls some dolls.  No more carrying fake reptiles around and pretending they're cute little babies.

One of the moms was in the nursery with us and she said there used to be some dolls in a bin on the very top shelf of the nursery closet.  So I investigated and a few minutes later I found the dolls.  The bin was rather small but it was packed full of about six dolls and their bedding.  Well, the two little girls we had in nursery surrounded me instantly when they saw the dolls.  Within minutes, the snake's mommy had her doll tucked into bed and the other little girl (who is the 6th of 7 children) had her five dolls tucked into bed.

In my month of subbing nursery, I have not seen those little girls so content to play.

Then the first little girl said she needed to go to the store with her baby but she didn't have a car seat.  Wow, she will be a really responsible mom, if she's already thinking about that at her young age!  I told her to pretend the bin was a car seat which she did, and she went on her merry way to the store, baby safe and sound in the car seat.

Meanwhile, the boys were still playing with their cars, bouncy balls, and action figures, causing horrific crashes with the cars and hitting each other with the balls.  Just being happy, rambunctious little boys.

So it makes me wonder, nature or nurture?

Sprinklers

I dodge sprinklers.

It is quite a dash, I assure you.

First of all, let me begin by saying my apartment complex is nice.  The buildings are newer, the facilities are clean, and the grounds are well tended and maintained.

My apartment is on the ground floor.  The door opens to a breezeway which, at the end of the building, continues on (uncovered) as a winding sidewalk leading circuitously to the clubhouse and my goal: the workout room.

For the first few weeks we lived in the new complex, getting to the workout room was a breeze.  Open door.  Turn right.  Follow the path to the clubhouse.  Easy as pie.  I only paid slight attention to the wet sidewalk.  "Did it rain?" I'd ask myself, the thought leaving as quickly as it came.

Cut to two weeks ago.  5:12 AM.  Open door.  Turn right.  Follow the sidewalk...stop.  Water was shooting across the path, blocking my exit from the building.  My first inclination was to turn around and go back to bed.  No way was I walking through sprinklers to get to the gym.  Pause.  (It was 5:12 AM.  Things require more time to process that early in the morning.)  The voice of reason chided, "You're not seriously going to let the sprinklers stop you.  What a lame excuse."

Well, I certainly wasn't going to run through the sprinklers, either!  I glanced back at the enemy to plot my next move.  The sprinkler rotated.  As it arched, it generously watered the sidewalk.  So glad we're keeping our sidewalks healthy and happy.  We sure don't want any part of them to shrivel up and die.

I decided to run down the sidewalk when the sprinkler rotated away from my building and follow the path the opposite direction, where I would then backtrack to the clubhouse.  Good plan, right?

Yep, except for as my eye followed the path I would take, my jaw dropped.

All of the sidewalks were being watered.

Bed was looking better and better.  And then...

I blinked.  The path to the gym was clear as all of the sprinklers rotated away from my building at once.  All I had to do was run, in a diagonal line, to the clubhouse door.  Straight through the grass.

Yep, that's right, folks.  If you don't want to get wet from the morning sprinklers, avoid sidewalks and run through the grass.

So now, if you happen to drive past my apartment early in the morning and see someone sprinting through the yard you know what's going on.  Open door.  Turn right.  Dodge sprinklers.