18 months!

I know that a baby's first birthday is a big deal. The fact that they made it through their first year is certainly something that should be celebrated. They lived through the birthing process, they have more than doubled their body weight, and they have not died of sheer boredom from being unable to voluntarily move from the spot that they were set. All of these things deserve to be celebrated but, in mormon culture, I believe that the parents should be given a party at the child's 18 month mark. The seemingly endless stretch from 12 months to 18 months is hard enough but then throw that child into a place where they are expected to sit still and be quiet for 3 hours is ridiculous. I think I would rather try to control a rabid dog at dog show. It is a time that I believe bishops give us a permanent hall pass. My bishop never bothered me when he saw me out wondering the halls during Sunday School. He would just look at me with that empathetic look and smile. People would stop me and tell me how cute Mason was. They would always ask how old he was, to which my reply was always "Not 18 months." I would calmly sit on the foyer couch while Mason was pounding on the glass doors and ripping apart the lost and found. I would daydream of that special day in April that I would finally be able to open that nursery door, throw him into some unsuspecting teachers arms, and bolt out before she could hand him back. That day finally came yesterday. Mason went in without a hitch. He did not care if Jake and I were in the room or not. He just wandered around happy that he was finally off his leash and able to roam. Jake and I left and did not hear a peep out of him. We were grinning ear to ear. You could find us hand in hand, frolicking through the hallway, giving our own empathetic looks to those parents who had not reached that blissful day yet. I am so excited that I will be able to participate in the lessons once again, I am excited to just be present for the lessons. I was a tiny bit sad when Mason did not car at all that we were gone, but all that melted away when I realized I wasn't lugging around a 25 pound chunk. Bless you nursery leaders! Bless you every one! You hold a special place in heaven. Good luck with my little man.

I told you. I wasn't kidding about the V8!