Happy Valentine's in a closet

Alright. So I am baby hungry. There. I said it. I thought that I was just toddler hungry. Working in the nursery has done nothing for me than make me want one of my own. When I first got the calling to spend two hours a Sunday with toddlers I was mortified. I was never going to meet any more people, my potential captured in the low-ceilinged room they call nursery. I was going to be forgotten until they found me fossilized in the sedimentary rock of church callings.

The first Sunday was a eye-opening experience of play-dough, books with teething marks on the corners, snack time turned into sword fighting by the little boys with their stick pretzels and little girls changing and re-changing baby doll clothes. Protecting their babies with the ferociousness of a lioness, insisting that we all whisper because, 'the babies are sleeping.'

Well, those kids moved out because they were transported to the magical place of Sunbeams and primary. Mind you, there is still one who has his priorities straight and will bellow and wiggle in class until his teacher sends him into nursery with his 2 year-old brother and father who cannot leave due to breath-holding until blue of the before-said 2 year-old. Older brother frequently times his arrival as to get in as we're washing the tables for snack and then becomes a docile lamb who says, 'more marshmallows please' and 'thank you.' Once snack time is over his father takes them both to the bathroom and always only returns with one boy.

Now what is left is a lot of younger kids, mostly ages 18 mths to 2 1/2. It's a whole different ball game. No longer is this dodgeball, 3 strikes and you're out of ways to discipline a kid who isn't yours for stealing toys and running. This is now a slow game of volleyball where often the ball hits the floor and stays there. The kids aren't too interested in much of anything but the new toys and the 3 girls to 1 boy ratio really works in my favor as I lust over having a little girl of my own that I can dress up in cute dresses with puffy sleeves and matching hair-bows.

After some puzzles, a miniature lesson and a quiet snack time where the biggest hit is marshmallows they play quietly. I emphasize quietly. Each takes their own toy and sits with it for about 5 min until they get bored and search for another, often stumbling across an already abandoned pop-up toy, meaning there's not too much clean-up after 30 min of play time. Singing time comes and they love holding popsicle sticks with shapes glued on as the grown-ups in the room sing children songs.

My worry of meeting new people has passed as I have gotten to know a few of the primary workers better as they stop in and check on the kiddos and the rest of the adults shoveling out marshmallows and teddy-grahams by the truckful. I am no longer a nobody in a large room of older women, knowing a lot of people, but none of them well. I belong to something now and have cute little heads with curled hair and matching bows tip-toeing around carrying baby dolls. It's wonderful. And though it's taken 3 months, a few of the kids recognize me outside of the nursery and my roll as snack provider. That makes me feel important. I am still waiting for the first of them to bring their crayons and paper back to me during sacrament like what would happen in my ward back in Oregon.

So my craving for a toddler began and I would see a little girl with her mommy or daddy in the store all dolled up and would want one of my own. But then one of my best friends invited me to her baby shower for the soon arriving Savage (that's their last name, I promise, I am not making it up to be cruel). She's having a girl so I made her a bow holder to keep her from going crazy, especially on Kindergarten mornings. What you do is you take apart a frame, wrap the cardboard in a cute, choice piece of fabric and then wrap ribbon around it to clips bows and flower to. It's ingenious.

Well, she opened a whole lot of gifts wrapped in cute girly paper that held cute, girly clothes and blankets and anything else a baby could want. Her new niece of 10 days was also there and as I watched her tiny cuteness be unraveled from a pink and green receiving blanket to reveal a matching outfit I was in love. Such a tiny little thing and when I took her in my arms I shed a tear down my right cheek. She was just sooo little! Her little mouth and fingernails and ears, it was just all too much to handle! I wanted one of my own, right then. The worst part about wanting a baby is that you still have to wait 9 months. At least. So I gave her back to her mommy and helped another guest put all of the cute gifts in the nursery. Upon hanging up the last pink sweater I stepped back and took a look at the closet and noticed a theme. Pink, Red, White, Purple and a touch of yellow. It was like opening a closet of Valentine's. That was the last little push I needed to wanting a baby of my own that would keep me up a lot of the night, be an additional accessory to take with me everywhere, and spit up and poop at the least convenient of times. Maybe clothes aren't the most important things of having a baby, but they sure make it look like a lot of fun!