Memories from the Kid Tables

I loved this video by It's a Southern Thing about moving up from the kid table!

I think as a very small child I was fairly content to be at the kid table. At one point I had a discussion with my Glenn cousins about who belonged at which kids table (in my mind, the cool table or the baby table), and the older cousins agreed that the deciding factor was how your juice mustache looked. If you were mature enough to drink juice so that you only had a couple of "vampire teeth" lines on your lips, you belonged with the older kids, but if you had a full red moustache on your upper lip you belonged at the little kids' table. I put great thought into keeping my upper lip clean because I didn't want to be with the babies.

As I got older it made me upset to be sent to the kid table. I remember attending a dinner with my mom's family, and I ended up at the kid table. I was at least a couple years older than all the other kids at the table, and I was mortified to be with the little kids who were spilling juice and acting like babies. It must have showed on my face because my mom asked me what was wrong, and I said indignantly, "I'm the oldest one here!" To my annoyance, everyone misunderstood because they looked at my seventy-something Grammy and laughed hysterically that I thought I was older than everyone in the room.

When I was about twelve, I offered to make swiss steak for the Father's Day dinner (I was under the impression that swiss steak is my dad's favorite, although I'm not sure now if that's actually the case). So after church I lovingly filled the pan with steaks and stewed tomatoes, so excited to be doing something nice for Dad. I was very offended when I came out of the kitchen to find that there were two tables and I was being banished to the kid table while my parents and grandparents would be at the regular table. (After all I had done making him a special dinner!) Dad wasn't interested in my idea to put the two tables together so we could all sit together. I got very upset and cried in my room instead of eating dinner. I still remember that my sweet grandma came up to talk with me for a while after dinner was over.

One Christmas, my cousin brought a boy home from college, and we all thought he was pretty cool (she's married to someone else now, and I can't remember his name, so in retrospect impressing him probably wasn't that important). I was worried that I would get sent off to the little kid table (which would have been so embarrassing in front of a college-aged boy), but because there wasn't space at the kid table or the adult table, Grandma put my cousin Kira and I at our own table, which was fun.

When Ryan and I were newly married, there was a dinner at his parents' house, and I was automatically put with the adults. Ryan's the youngest of seven, and I'm five years younger than him, so I felt a little out of place. I was probably closer in age to several of my nieces and nephews at the teenager table than I was to Ryan's siblings. Not that I wanted to move to the kid table, but I wondered if I belonged with them!

Now that I'm a thirty-year-old I can understand better why the adults want to be separated from the kids. Having everyone mixed together can be fun too, but if you want to have a nice conversation with just the adults, it works a lot better to serve the kids their food and then retreat to the company of the adults where you can enjoy the food, Grandma's nice tablecloth, and conversation with substance without being interrupted by weird kid jokes and spilled punch.

This year we're having Thanksgiving at home with our four kids, so I guess Ryan and I got put back at the kid table. And Ann Marie sucked on her toes. Still, we had a good time.

Trials and Taking the Book of Mormon Challenge

The last few months it's felt like I just can't get a break. My grandpa died in July, and I was able to go to his funeral. After I got back from that trip, I thought I could finally get caught up after the summer craziness because the kids were back in school. But then I went up in the attic to get some parts for the crib so Ruby could start sleeping in it, and I ended up stepping through the drywall in the ceiling, and I injured the rotator cuff on my right shoulder. I've been going to physical therapy for a couple of months now, and although I've seen improvement, I still have pain and I feel like I've reached a plateau. Because of my injury, I wasn't able to do a lot of the cleaning around the house, so that put me really behind. I can mostly do what I need to now, but I still have to be careful when/how I lift things. We've also had illnesses, and I caught a stomach bug from Ruby that was as bad as labor pains at times and made me so dizzy I couldn't stand up for more than a minute. Ryan's been busy with work and some projects too, and Kevin and Heidi both have a lot more homework this year, so that's made the evenings more stressful. Then one evening I accidentally caught a wooden cutting board on fire when I turned on the wrong burner on the stove, so our house smelled like smoke (that's gone now, thankfully) and I haven't gotten the scorch marks out yet because scrubbing hurts my shoulder. I also felt horrible because I had left Ruby sitting on the kitchen floor and left the room when the fire happened (I was grateful that the Holy Ghost told me to go back in the kitchen). Oh, and we're battling a mouse problem.

However, I've been really grateful for President Nelson's challenge to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year and mark all the verses about the Savior. It was just what I needed. When he first made the challenge I had no idea how I could manage it, but I felt really strongly that I needed to do it. Focusing on the Savior has helped me remember that Christ suffered the pains and trials that I experience and knows how to help me. It's helped me to face the huge amount of work I have to do with peace, courage, and faith. It's helped me to keep a better perspective about the things that matter most. Because I have a better perspective, I can cope with my challenges and work on fostering more uplifting thought patterns. It's helped me to give myself grace when I slip up or don't meet my expectations of myself (which are too high sometimes). I've been able to recognize that my trials and challenges are building my character and helping me to become more Christlike. I've realized that I can't let circumstances beyond my control determine whether I have hope. I've been able to recognize that even though God can't always change my circumstances, He does care that I'm suffering and He does help me.

I've never read the Book of Mormon this fast before, and it's been interesting how that's helped me to make new connections. The Isaiah chapters made a lot more sense this time around (they're all about the Savior, by the way). The Book of Mormon prophets really do prophesy of Christ all the time, and their prophecies are incredible. I feel so blessed to have these scriptures as well as the counsel of living prophets.