Church for Curtis

Curtis had it easy. As opposed to Paige, he didn't have to worry about finding friends in our new ward because one of his school buddies lives in the neighborhood.

Church - Week 1

When it was time for primary, his buddy came over and whisked him off to class. When we saw Curtis afterword, he was all smiles--a rare occurrence for our grumpy little guy.

For Traci and me, this came as a huge sigh of relief. Curtis does not like change. When we were looking at new houses, he wouldn't even get out of the car because he was NOT GOING TO MOVE! 

Church - Week 4

It was Tate's turn to say the opening prayer and Traci and I were in the primary room to watch. From the back of the room, I could hear one member of the primary presidency say to another, "Whisper, whisper, Curtis Sutherland, whisper, whisper."

Uh-oh.

Tate said the prayer and Traci and I stood up to leave, when Curtis was escorted into the room, followed by the woman from the presidency. She brought him up to the front of the primary and said, "This is Curtis. We actually put him in the wrong class. He was in CTR 8, when he should have been in CTR 7. Whoops. That means he'll be here in the Junior primary, instead of the Senior primary."

Uh-oh.

Church classes are assigned by age, based on a calendar year--not a school year. His friend has a September birthday, but Curtis' birthday isn't until April. To make things worse, the junior primary goes through age seven, so not only would Curtis be leaving his friend's class, he'd be dropping out of the senior primary entirely.

Traci and I walked over to him after he took a seat by his new class.

"Hey, buddy. Are you okay?"

He looked up at me with big tears welling up in his eyes.

"No," he said quietly.

Which kind of broke our hearts.

--

After church, I was expecting to see a similarly downtrodden Curtis. I was shocked by what I saw.

A happy boy.

"I'm the tallest kid in the whole junior primary!" he said.

And that was that.

Church for Paige

One of our biggest reasons for moving to a new house to was to be in an area with more kids. Traci really wanted Paige to have the same experience that she had growing up, where there were tons of girls in neighborhood to play with.

It might not be exactly like that here.

Church - Week One

We sent Paige off to her primary class, with our fingers crossed that she would meet her next best-friend-for-life.

"Paige," we asked her after church, "How many girls were in your class?"

There was good news and bad.

Bad: There was just one girl. (Plus a couple more who were out of town.)

Good: It was a girl she recognized from her Up with Kids group and they instantly got along with each other.

Sure, we'd love to have more kids around. But if you find one best friend, that's all that matters, right?

Everyone was happy.

Church - Week Three

I'm sitting in Elders Quorum, waiting for class to start. I'm listening to the chatter in the room when I hear, "So, I hear you're moving, huh?"

"Yeah, the house sold in one day. We're heading out in about three weeks."

Wait a second, I know that guy, I thought. That's...that's....that's the dad of the girl in Paige's class. Noooooooo!!!!!

Everyone was sad.

Fast Sunday

Tate: Is today Fast Sunday? Me: No. Tate: Boo. I hate Slow Sunday!

Sunday School

Sunday School: Learning the names of every MLB team.

Curtis on Religion: Hymns

Curtis told me he wasn't going to listen to General Conference. True to his word, he played the iPad for pretty much the whole session. But that doesn't mean he wasn't listening. As conference ended, the organist played a postlude of Families Can be Together Forever. 

Without looking up from his game, Curtis said, "I don't even know this song. Every time we sing it in Primary, I don't listen. And I just mouth the words."

So there you have it.
---
In sacrament meeting the next week, all the kids were asked to come up and sing that very song. Paige marched up to the front. Curtis, as usual, refused to participate and instead hid under our pew. Tate, now a Sunbeam, had his first chance to sing with the Primary choir--but he was asleep on my lap.

We're not great at church.

Paige's First Solo

If you've ever been to a Mormon Primary Program (where the kids sing and do all the talks during Sacrament Meeting), you've probably noticed that there's always one kid who sings about twice as loud as all the others combined.

In our ward, that kid is not only loud, but sings with enough vibrato to make any opera singer jealous. That kid is Paigey

We've known this about Paige for a few years now, we just hoped that others wouldn't notice. Well, they did.

A few weeks before the Primary Program, Paige was asked if she would sing a solo. She was ecstatic about the opportunity. We were a little nervous about it, especially since she refuses to sing in front of us, which means should wouldn't practice at all.

Paige didn't seem to get nervous until the day of the event, when we were driving to church. "My stomach feels weird," she said.

By the time she was sitting on the stand, fidgeting uncomfortably, I could tell she was really nervous. But she still probably wasn't as nervous as Traci and I.

When she walked up to the microphone, all alone, my heart was thumping in my ears. The piano started, the chorister raised her arm, and give Paige her cue. After a small pause--which felt like a mega enormous is-she-going-to-do-it pause to her parents--a voice as big as a house excited our tiny daughter's body.

She did a wonderful(ly dramatic) job. We were very proud of her.

She was also proud of herself. As she went back to her seat to sing the remainder of the songs with the the primary, she was beaming. She continued to belt the songs out, louder than anyone else but now with her arms crossed proudly across her chest and her eyes closed like an R&B diva.

After the program, she was showered with praise from just about everyone. She, of course, let this go directly to her head.

After church, we had this conversation:

Me: Paige, you did a great job. Do you think you'd want to try taking voice lessons?

Paige: [Rolling her eyes] Voice lessons? What are voice lessons?

Me: It's like your piano lessons, but you practice singing.

Paige: Dad, I take piano lessons so I can get good at playing piano. I'm already good at singing.

Later that night, I left the kids in the car while I dropped some keys off at the Relief Society president's house. When I got back in, Paige said, "Let me guess, Sister Rickards told you what a good job I did." (No, Paige. I'm sorry to say she didn't mention it.)

It's good to have a confident kid.

--

On a related note, Curtis also refuses to sing. But not just in front of us, he refuses to sing ever. (Well, that's not entirely true. I have heard him singing C&C Music Factory in the bathroom.) He once again refused to sing during the Primary Program. But we had a few major breakthroughs. Not only did he stay on the stage for the whole program (with his lips pursed so no singing could slip out), but he actually said his one-sentence part into the microphone. (Last year, he walked up to the microphone and not only refused to deliver his line, but turned his back to the audience. Take that, crowd!) It was super fast and completely mumbly, but he did it. Another proud parent moment.

First Trip to the Conference Center

For this year's regional conference, our stake was invited to the Conference Center. I took Paige and Curtis and Traci stayed home with monster Tate (or rather went to the stake center where he could do less damage). Our kids had never been inside before. They seemed to be impressed, first by the size of the auditorium and later, when Curtis conveniently needed to go by the bathroom, by the general echo-ey-ness of the halls.   

After we left, I asked Curtis, "So, what did you think of the Conference Center?"

"It was boring," he replied. 

It was kind of boring. But most educational experiences usually are. 

We stopped by the State Capitol after. They were much more impressed.

When we walked inside, Paige gasped," Wow, somebody really rich must live here."

Even Curtis enjoyed it.