A solo Sunday, and other useless information.

Yesterday, I went to church with four children by myself. Josh was feverish and all sickly and stuff, so he stayed home, and sent me to the weekly three ring circus that is sacrament meeting alone. I'm happy to say I made it through the meeting without having to remove one kid. I mean, it's really insignificant that Henry stole all the hymn books from everyone in the front row and Sam and Jordan got in to a face pinching fight severe enough to cause the woman behind me to reach up and intervene (thanks for that by the way... I really mean that. I know you were worried that you were overstepping your bounds, but I think you might be responsible for saving Jordan's bottom lip. Trust me, I'm grateful.)

I was feeling pretty good about having made it through with my slip still hidden under my skirt, all of my jewelry still on, and my credit cards all in their proper slots inside my wallet when the primary president came up and asked if Josh had made arrangements for someone to teach his class.

Uh-oh.

There is another teacher that Josh often combines classes with, when the numbers in our little branch don't justify two separate classes. I remember Josh mentioning during a foggy headed, not entirely coherent conversation that Brother Anderson could teach his class on Sunday. But Brother Anderson wasn't there either.

I've been a primary president before. It stinks when teachers aren't there. Of course Josh made arrangements for his class. He has me. :)

So I taught a class of 7-11 year olds, without a manual, on the expansive topic of church history. Ha! I'm glad the topic was so specific. I knew exactly where to begin. It was interesting to say the least. Okay... really, I loved it. Primary is sort of my secret love when it comes to callings. But the young women are fun too. Yesterday, I only had one in class so we had a wonderful little pow wow of a lesson.

And then, I made it home. Children still alive, shoes, ties and tights still on their person of origin, or at least in hand, or pocket. Not a bad showing, for a single parent attempt. (Seriously... heaven bless those of you that do it alone all the time. Single mothers... mother's whose husbands sit on the stand, or travel for service, or whatever. You're all awesome.)

On the way to church, smarty pants Sam yelled up to the front seat, "Hey Mommy, church is 180 minutes long."

So I said, "Um, yes, Sam it is. How did you know that?"

This was his response: "Well, I first figured it out in my bed this morning. I told Jordan I wanted to sleep three more minutes. And then I figured out that three minutes was 180 seconds, because each minute has 60 seconds, and if you add it up, that's 180. And minutes and hours are a lot alike because they both have 60 in them. So I just figured it out. 180 seconds, 3 minutes. 180 minutes, 3 hours."

Ummm, I think Sam's probably gonna be able to handle the 1-5 basic addition he'll cover in kindergarten this fall. Jordan and Sam both have mathematical brains... something they inherited from their father, with perhaps a few recessive genes thrown back to my Dad, or their fellow smartypants Aunt, Inkmom.

They did not get it from me. Not even a little bit.

Math has never been a strength of mine, so it amazes me when I see my kids figure numbers out on their own accord, regrouping and making things easier in ways that my brain would never do on it's own. I've always been more of a word person. You want me to write an essay? I'm on it. You want me to do Calculus? Oh please just shoot the pencil out of my hand. Really, the wailing and gnashing of teeth isn't worth it. I think Lucy may take after me... she's obviously literary minded, already healthily addicted to the written word. I love that about her.

Which brings me to my next point. (okay. really I had no idea where this post was gonna go. but I'm here, so why stop now?) I love how different all my kids are. It's almost like Christmas learning the things that my kids are good at... realizing that they all have different strengths and weaknesses, things they like, and things that totally don't interest them in the slightest bit. There is a certainly a common thread that runs through them all... something that makes them wonderfully, consistently mine... common thread yes, but totally different patterns... fabric that is uniquely and wonderfully them. I LOVE that.