So, the bishop leveraged my love of babies and made me an offer I couldn't refuse: Primary President. Because we're in a young married ward, Primary actually equals Nursery. So, I get the sweet (and respect-commanding) title without really doing more than a nursery leader. And we all know nursery time is filled to the brim with adorableness because these babies really are still babies. AND THEM BABIEZ ARE THE BEST. Bam.
Some things I have learned from my first Sunday in nursery.
1. Don't drop the baby dolls. Things get traumatic, fast.
Shaylee: Will you put this dress on the baby?
Me: Of course. *Fiddles with the dress. Drops the baby.* Oopsie!
Shaylee: *Jaw dropped* You...dropped...THE BABAAAAAAAAY!!!
Me: Oh dear...
2. There will be moments during singing time when the prospect of shaking a maraca will be so exciting that a child will seize up with excitement (something like an excitement-seizure) holding their maraca with perfect stillness...and miss the entire song because they are too happy to actually participate.
3. Don't assume 2 year old boys don't have a good arm.
Me: *From three feet away...* Alright, Connor! Throw the ball to me!
Connor: *Rears back and hucks it right into my face.* Uh oh! You didn't catch!
4. ALWAYS HAVE FRUIT SNACKS OR THERE WILL BE A BABY REVOLT. I don't think I need an anecdote to explain this one. I have tried to push that memory out of my mind.
5. If there is something climable, it will be climbed (especially by the girls..?) because babies in nice Sunday clothes are nigh unto chimpanzees. Do not underestimate their speed and agility, my friends. Do not.
Oh man, I love those little guys. I suppose it has something to do with being on their level in more ways than one...height, attention span, and general intellect. But, alas, they are far beyond me when it comes to cuteness.