For those of you still concerned, may I offer an update on the MIA Binjas. They are still MIA- hopefully they are not suffering somewhere as POWs. That would be intolerable. We have cleaned bedrooms and family rooms and lofts. And the Binjas are nowhere to be found. I have considered calling in Mr. Clinton to see if he could work his magic and negotiate a release for those poor, tortured Binjas. The good news is that it seems little son has forgotten about them. For now...
We had a wonderful weekend. The highlight of which just may have been the cooler temperatures. Truly lovely weather. Thank you, Summer, for taking a break from us. I am not sure how eager I am to welcome you back this week.
Little son will be starting preschool on Tuesday. That will leave me childless for 4 hours every week. Did you hear me? I said FOUR HOURS EVERY WEEK!! I almost don't know what to do with myself. But, I think I may be able to figure something out.
Today at church after the newest little 8 year old baptised member of our ward was recognized, middle daughter proclaimed her desire not to get baptised. Lest you despair, I shall explain. She absolutely detests submerging her head in water. Unless it is the bathtub. She has truly perfected the swim-with-head-above-the-water in the pool and avoids dunking her head- at all costs. So, she promptly declared to me that she will not get baptised. Exclamation point. Then, not a minute later, she turned to me and declared, "Well, I guess I will get baptised. I will just wear goggles." Problem solved. (we'll make sure they are white)
I substituted for an absent Primary teacher and was lucky enough to be able to teach middle daughter's class. Wow. What a class. I have ultimate respect for the regular teacher. God bless her. One particularly dramatic little girl in the class was accidentally poked in the eyeball by another little girl. Her exclamation was, "I am going to be blind for the rest of my life!" Indeed, she was terribly blind for the next minute. And only intermittently blind for the duration of the lesson- when she was reminded of the incident.
And now a little bit about me. I am a Sunday front row sitter. All the time. Sacrament meeting. Sunday School. Relief Society. And let me tell you why. Growing up, my family always sat within the front three rows in the chapel, depending on which row was available. I never really thought much about it as a kid. But, when I left home to go to college, I became a back row sitter. For just about a month. Because I came to a realization: when I sat on the back row, I paid more attention to the people in the congregation than to what the speaker was saying and what I could be learning. So, I moved back up to the front couple of rows.
When I married the husband, we began sitting on the front row- mainly because he had ample leg room with no bench in front of us. I never had considered how uncomfortable it might be to have to fold a 6'6" frame in between two pews. So, we sit on the front row and I admit, I love it. Even my children are more attentive on the front row. We have occasionally been on a back row with the children and it has been a nightmare. Every time. My kids are able to focus better on the front row- they don't become distracted with all their friends- and they know what we are at church for. It works for us.
So, I want to know: where do you sit? And, do you panic if someone is in "your spot"?