....In the Middle of the Street

Finding out that you are actually finally approved to buy a house is like Christmas morning.

But before that, you have to go through a lot of work. 

We searched for 6 months, with multiple offers, multiple fall-throughs, and a lot of disappointment. The first time we saw this house, though, we got a very good feeling about the home and the neighborhood. So we decided to offer on yet another house, hoping that this would be the one. 

We put in our paperwork...and found out our offer had been accepted! We were a excited, but since we'd had offers go through before we tried not to get too attached. 

I mean, seriously you guys, you have no idea how many random, "this never happens" situations we went through. 

But things continued to go well with this house. It was a newer house, had been redone with new carpet, new paint, and brand-spankin-new appliances, and it had a front porch. As more paperwork was pushed through, it came to the point where we were only waiting on the rural housing committee to approve our loan before everything was finalized. And that took 28 business days, to be exact.

Which is the equivalent of forrrrrrrrrever.

I believe we waited 29 business days before finally finding out.....we were approved! 

Which was a small miracle. 

Remember that one time the government shut down? Well rural housing is a government committee....which means it also shut down. And magically, miraculously, our approval was stamped and signed literally the MORNING BEFORE the shutdown. 

Skin of our teeth, right there. 

And I can tell you now, that I firmly believe this is the place we are meant to be. Because we were blatantly stopped too many other times, and this house came with too many small miracles to believe otherwise. 

First order of business? Painting the door of course.

I. LOVE. IT.

And I love our house.

Our great, big, beautiful house.

Fresh Air {take two}

Fresh Air

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {8-11-13}

Journaling has always been hard for me. Which is weird, because I'm an English major, which basically means I was writing ALL THE TIME. But for some reason, I never liked keeping a journal. 

When I was called as a primary teacher, I was very specifically advised to keep a journal. That's part of the reason I started blogging about my experiences in primary. And I'm glad I did, because I love going back and reading the hilarious antics of 7-year-olds, and one day, maybe when I'm trying to teach my own kids, I'll go back and remember all the things I learned. 

This week was just me and 7 kids. Was I a little nervous? Yes. Phew. More like A LOT nervous.

Like, nervous enough that I had a terrifying dream the night before that I showed up to a room full of 12 kids all throwing pens at each other and wildly screaming like jungle children. 

Thankfully.....real life was much, much better. 

I got to meet one of our students who had never come to church before. He's this sweet, quiet kid who looks like he has no idea what to do, and he has absolutely heart-melting blue eyes. At the end of class, each child got a 'faith rock,' on which they wrote the word 'faith' and then got to decorate with markers. This adorable boy wrote 'faith' on one side, and then came up to show me what he had written on the other side. It was 'giraffe.'

I have no idea how he got from 'faith' to 'giraffe, but I had to chuckle. He was just so proud that he knew how to spell 'giraffe.' I  get jumps like that all the time. I'll be teaching about the Holy Ghost, and one boy will raise his hand and say, "Did you know that killer whales EAT dolphins???!"

And I'm like, " Oh, how nice. So back to the lesson...."

And then a girl will pop up out of her seat and come right up to me in the middle of my next sentence, and say, "Um, did you know that, um, I have 4 cousins that are girls?"

There's a lot of pressure here to keep the lessons entertaining--- you can see why.

The other rocks were pretty great too. One girl wrote 'faith' in teeny-tiny letter on one little corner, and then furiously began scribbling with a blue marker all over the entire rock. Another boy wrote 'faith' on one side and then drew a snake on the other side {which I quickly learned was an asp-- like in the scriptures} {at least he's remembering something, right?}. But there was one especially that tugged on my heartstrings: One little girl came up to me to show me her rock, and pointed out to me that she'd even written 'faith' in brown! When I asked her why, she said, "Because faith is like a seed, and seeds are brown. See--- I even drew flowers growing out of the faith!"

The reason I brought 'faith rocks' was to help them internalize the story of the brother of Jared, who took clear stones to the Lord, and when the Lord touched them, they gave off light. The point I was trying to ingrain was that in the story, the brother of Jared had so much faith that he knew the Lord would make the rocks give off light. So you can kinda see how rocks and faith come together here. So after 50 minutes of teaching, telling stories, drawing pictures, and coloring rocks, I felt pretty confident that they'd absorbed at least the basic idea. 

Until we were out in the hallway, and a member of the bishopric happens to stop to visit. 

"So, what'd you guys learn about today?"

And I'm all like, come on kids....come onnnnn......

And one pipes up, "Faith!" And I'm secretly fist-pumping the air, thinking, they learned!

Then he asks, "So what do your rocks have to do with faith?"

And all 7 kids are staring at him, dead quiet, at least 4 of them with their mouths hanging open.

Face-palm.

At least it wasn't as bad as the time the kids all came out of the classroom throwing paper airplanes at each other.

 I can't even remember how that happened. 

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {7/14/13}

Did you know that, contrary to popular belief, the golden Moroni statue on top of the temples is not holding a trumpet, he's actually holding a tuba. 

{this fun fact is courtesy of an 8-year-old in my husband's class}

{instead of correcting her, he encouraged the idea of "Moroni and the tuba"}

{he cracks me up}

When you are trying to think of ways to serve, remember these three nice things you can do for people: {courtesy of the 7-year-olds in my class}

1. Give them an apple.

2. Help them collect rocks.

3. Turn on the light.

When guessing how old I am {my birthday's coming!}, remember that "eighty-ten" is a legitimate answer.

And lastly, if you are looking for ways to strengthen your family, remember this pragmatic answer from a 5-year-old:

EXERCISE!

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {5-12-13}

This Sunday was not the best of Sundays. Whenever holidays come around, all the kids seem to get antsy and twitchy and chattery and reeeeeeally hard to calm down. My only comfort is in seeing all the other classes acting just as bad as mine when we sit down in primary {sorry presidency....you've got it tough}.

My partner was out sick, so I snatched Chris to come sit in on my class. And man am I glad I had a second person there, because they were all. over. the. place.

If there is one thing I have learned from teaching Primary so far, its that you really can't base your teaching skills or self-esteem off of how your class is acting some weeks. Because honestly, they are going to be naughty. They are going to throw paper airplanes at each other. They are going to look at you with that know-it-all face and tell you exactly why they don't have to do something. They will tell you you're a bad teacher. They will threaten to tattle on your bad teaching skills to their mothers. They will loudly whine in sharing time because you didn't let them color.  

They will be kids. 

And sometimes I frantically bust out of church like I haven't breathed fresh air in years. Sometimes I just have to let out a big ole' sigh because I'm pretty sure they didn't absorb an iota of the lesson I just taught. But that's primary. That's learning to be a teacher. And the funny moments always overshadow the bad ones.

Like during a discussion on the bishop's storehouse when one boy pipes up and says, "I bet I could do some calculations to figure out the amounts!" 

And the girl next to him sassily says, "You're not old enough to calculate!"

Or when the sharing time leader asks if anyone has a mom who follows the commandments, and one boy stands up and anxiously says, "My mom is obedient! But she didn't want to raise her hand so I had to tell you." His mother, also his teacher, turned bright red.

Like the times when you tell one girl who has the hiccups to hold her breath to get rid of them, and it turns into a traffic jam in the hallway because all the other girls stop and want to hold their breath too.

{who knew it was so much fun?}

Or when you ask them to explain what 'enduring to the end' means, and one girl compares it to having to re-build her lego castle multiple times. "I just kept having to re-do it because it would break, but I never gave up! And that's like enduring to the end."

I'm learning to be {extraordinarily} patient. I'm learning to say no and not worry about how upset a child may be because they will promptly get over it in the next 5 minutes. I'm learning how to find the humor in everything. And I'm learning how to tie lego castles into teaching the gospel.

And I love it. 

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {3-17-13}

Today I learned that:

• You should never let two girls who have both decided to draw rainbows sit next to each other. This will result in a rainbow-drawing war; including, "Mine is going to be in a pattern," "Mine has a waterfall!" and "Mine has more colors!" 

• Never question a 7-year-old's ability to entertain both themselves and you {often without meaning to}. For almost 3 whole minutes during class I watched one boy lick every inch of his left hand. For no apparent reason. 

• It is expected that you will feel happy while you are at church. When asked, "How is everyone doing today? Are you feeling pretty good?" by the singing time leader, one of my girls heaved a big ole' sigh, rolled her eyes, and said, "Duh. Of course everyone feels good today. We're in church aren't we?!"

Journalings of a Primary teacher {3-3-13}

Today I received: 

3 spontaneous hugs.

1 blond head laying in my lap.

1 "You're awesome!"

2 "Can I sit by you?"s 

1 hand-holding to lead me from class to sharing time

{so i wouldn't get lost}

{because that happens to primary teachers?}

1 journal display filled with hand-drawn pictures and adorably misspelled words

1 proud display of a homemade bookmark on which was written, 
"Noah's space where he is."

{in case he forgot what it was for}

2 actual memories of a lesson I taught

It was a beautiful day for a rainy Sunday.

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {2-24-13}

Kicks and giggles, that's what primary is made of.

While waiting for sharing time, I watched a little 2-year-old guy run as fast as he could down the hallway, closely followed by his dad. He promptly got scooped up upside-down, and as he was being carried off, he folded his little arms and voiced a big, "Aw maaaaaaaan!"

I couldn't help but bust up laughing.

~~~

One little guy in my class accidentally bit his lip in the middle of singing time. He tapped me on the shoulder with a, "Sis-er Diepeveen I think my lip is bleeding." I look over to discover he's smeared it all over his cheek, hands, and chair {yaaay}. I promptly grabbed some tissues and helped him clean up a little. As he's pressing one bloody tissue to his lip, a boy from the row behind leans over, all agog, and asks, "Is that blood and guts???!!"

~~~

We ended primary on a very good note. The small guy who said the closing prayer started with, "Dear Heavenly Father...." He then asked, "Please bless us that we won't ever lie. And bless us to do good things." And that was it; "Amen." 

So here's to a week where hopefully we won't lie, we will do good things, and we will always find the humor in the little things!

Journalings of a Primary Teacher {2-17-13}

Teacher: Does anyone know who Peter, James, and John were?

Kids: Yes! Apostles! 

Teacher: Do you know when they were apostles? During what time?

Kids: ....silence.....

Teacher: Anyone?

One brave girl: Umm...the 80's? 

{i had to cover up a gigantic snort of laughter at that point.}

Teacher: How can we talk to Jesus?

Kids: Prayer! Texting!

Wouldn't it be cool if we had Jesus' phone number?

We could text JESUS.

--goes on for several minutes--

Teacher, trying to regain some control: Ok, but, if your cell phone battery dies, you can't text. And guess what? You can always pray! 

One thoughtful boy: Well....yeah....I suppose prayer is better than texting.

{they should put that on a pillow or something.}

This next one happened over in my husband's class. Good to know his primary lessons are sometimes as hilarious as mine.

Chris: So, when Joseph Smith was first shown the plates, he couldn't have them. Do you know why?

Kids: Why???

Chris: Because he wasn't ready for them yet. 

Kids: ...confused looks....

Chris, trying to come up with a metaphor: Okay, so it's like driving a car. Do your parents let you drive?

Kids: No! Bahaha!

Chris: Well why not?

Kids: Because we're not old enough!

We're not allowed!

We can't reach the pedals!

Chris: Well, Joseph Smith couldn't "reach the pedals." He wasn't ready to receive the plates.

..lesson continues....

...lesson ends....

Chris: So, who can tell me what we learned today?

Kids, laughing hysterically: JOSEPH SMITH COULDN'T HAVE THE PLATES BECAUSE HE COULDN'T REACH THE PEDALS!!!!

{well played, Chris, well played. good luck getting them to forget that one.}

Three Years Ago....

This happened.

Yep. Those are real flames, that's my real husband, and indeed it does say, "Will U Marry Me?"

December 17th will always have a special place in my heart. 

And although we couldn't do a whole lot of celebrating regarding the day we first met and a year later got engaged on, we still toasted our luck with some late-night sparkling cider, admired my wedding ring {never gets old!}, and reminisced about our past four years of friendship and two and a half years of marriage.

We decided we really don't have it all that bad.

For those of you who swear the first couple years of marriage are the hardest, well....sucks for you.

They were pretty grand for us. 

Still Adjusting

I love Christmas. Like, looooove Christmas. 

In past years, I've dragged Chris with me to all sorts of Christmas-y things: the Festival of Trees, the Tree Jubilee, Temple Square to see the lights, ANY park to see the lights, sleigh rides, walking down Main Street in Cedar with cups of hot chocolate....

I'll take almost anything, people. 

But this year, with Chris working every night and me working most of them, I've realized we won't get the chance to do the Christmas things I love so much. 

And it will be a big adjustment for me. 

I miss a lot of things from our life in Cedar. 

I miss our giant Thanksgiving parties.

I miss seeing people I know around town.

I miss the cute cafe's that are open late.

I miss being able to get a freakin' scone. {SERIOUSLY. What kind of city doesn't have a good scone place??}

I miss the random late-night hangouts with friends.

 I miss friends, period.

I miss going through the drive-thru on Taco Tuesday with ten people shoved into the car. 

I miss the un-plowed roads in the winter, the cops who have nothing better to do than bust up our bonfires, and I even miss ducking my head to avoid my professors in the grocery store {because what can we possibly have to say to one another, anyway?}. 

But I suppose this move has given us a few things, too. 

I like being close to family. A 45-minute drive is immensely better than a 4-hour one. 

I like not having a bunch of single, loud, pretending-they're-not-smoking guys living above us.

I like learning to explore by myself. 

I like developing closer relationships with the few people we do know here. 

I like not having I'm-falling-off-the-edge-of-the-world gutters on every street.

And just as of a couple weeks ago, I like having my first-ever calling that does NOT involve playing the piano {i've literally only had piano-involved callings for the last TWELVE. YEARS.}.

So I guess I'm not really complaining, but I'm not really celebrating, either. This move has been full of lots of ups and downs, and I suppose I'm just going to have to learn to live with it. 

Because hey, c'est la vie.

{those four semesters of french weren't entirely wasted.}