I never attend Sunday School anymore. It's true. The management has decided that either I do not need it in order to keep my spiritual life in order or else I have opened my mouth too many times for the other students to allow me in the door. Whatever the case, the powers that be in my congregation requested that I skip my regular programming in order to take care of the two year olds so that their parents may for nearly two hours every week enjoy their quiet, sacred, Sabbath bliss undisturbed. My cohorts in nursery and I run after little ones constantly plotting to escape their imprisonment, have children screaming in our ears, kicking at our faces with hysterical little feet while we unsuccessfully attempt to calm them, sometimes find our bodily temples the receptacles of mucus, saliva and urine, and endure the continual aroma of messy diapers. I know what you must be thinking, gentle reader, and you are absolutely correct.
We are the luckiest people on earth!
Unfortunately, we lost two of our comrades today. I'm not sure why. Perhaps the bishop overheard something about Brother Nymeyer flinging plastic chicken legs across the room, much to the little ones' delight. We enjoyed a camaraderie unparalleled in any other calling I have filled - perhaps because it was four of us against sometimes sixteen miniature soldiers of destruction. We had to depend on each other, and life will not be the same without the sweet, calm sanity Sister Nymeyer offered our group. It certainly will not be the same without her husband's equally powerful measure of hilarious and somewhat riotous insanity in our midst. We will try to get by.
How can intelligent, free thinking adults actually manage to enjoy such an environment and such usage? What is the secret to surviving this madness we call child care? Is it all a matter of bracing oneself? Well, partly, yes. Choose to accept what may come and love it? That is certainly part of the equation. But the real secret is to learn to love these babies. They are a joy to me. What might have been a chore every Sunday has become a blessing and a wonderful part of my week. Here are some of our favorite moments in nursery - music time, gabbing with international celebrities on an old fashioned plastic telephones, and cutting off marshmallow distribution during snack time. I hope you enjoy them as much as we do!
Music Time with Michelle!
The blue instrument in my hand is an indispensable part of caring for young children. It is a wand for blowing bubbles. Merry Christmas from the Tortolita Ward Nursery!