A couple of months ago we moved into a family ward. This is the first time I have been in a real, family ward since I left home at 18. It has been a readjustment for sure. Here are a couple of things that happened today that sparked my thinking about all the funny differences between this ward and our previous student/single wards:
-As I was walking with my new visiting teaching companion to our first appointment, she asks if I am studying right now. (Bad English, she's from Mexico and is still learning the language) I say no, I just graduated. She replies, "Oh, so are you going to get a job or make babies?".....cough cough...um....what?
-Interesting seating arrangements in Sacrament meeting today. In the row in front of us, two mothers. In the row behind us, all their kids. Us...sandwiched in between. Mothers: constantly turning around, shushing, reaching. Kids: Playing, talking, crawling under the benches through our legs to their mothers. Then back again.
-Also in Sacrament meeting, we were sitting at the end of one of the middle rows. I looked to my left (Jarom was the only person on my right), and every single person on our row was sound asleep.
So here are the rest of the things I can think of that our unique to family wards:
-There is always a row of old widows in the very back of the Relief Society room.
-This is the first time Jarom hasn't had to be involved with any part of the sacrament service since he was 12.
-Sacrament meetings are very noisy, there are lots of kids and babies everywhere. We're the only couple who has zero kids.
-I have found I don't know how to ask people about themselves while trying to get to know them anymore. One lady introduced herself and I introduced myself, then a string of questions ran through my head, none of which I could ask her. (what's your major, when do you graduate, how long have you been married, what apartment do you live in, where are you from (they're all from Utah))
As you can see, we are still learning how to be real people again, and it will probably take awhile before the transformation is complete. I still consider myself in college life, probably because I work on campus. Someday we'll be able to completely separate ourselves from BYU, and Provo.
-As I was walking with my new visiting teaching companion to our first appointment, she asks if I am studying right now. (Bad English, she's from Mexico and is still learning the language) I say no, I just graduated. She replies, "Oh, so are you going to get a job or make babies?".....cough cough...um....what?
-Interesting seating arrangements in Sacrament meeting today. In the row in front of us, two mothers. In the row behind us, all their kids. Us...sandwiched in between. Mothers: constantly turning around, shushing, reaching. Kids: Playing, talking, crawling under the benches through our legs to their mothers. Then back again.
-Also in Sacrament meeting, we were sitting at the end of one of the middle rows. I looked to my left (Jarom was the only person on my right), and every single person on our row was sound asleep.
So here are the rest of the things I can think of that our unique to family wards:
-There is always a row of old widows in the very back of the Relief Society room.
-This is the first time Jarom hasn't had to be involved with any part of the sacrament service since he was 12.
-Sacrament meetings are very noisy, there are lots of kids and babies everywhere. We're the only couple who has zero kids.
-I have found I don't know how to ask people about themselves while trying to get to know them anymore. One lady introduced herself and I introduced myself, then a string of questions ran through my head, none of which I could ask her. (what's your major, when do you graduate, how long have you been married, what apartment do you live in, where are you from (they're all from Utah))
As you can see, we are still learning how to be real people again, and it will probably take awhile before the transformation is complete. I still consider myself in college life, probably because I work on campus. Someday we'll be able to completely separate ourselves from BYU, and Provo.
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Also...I am terrified of broken bones myself...but there are just a couple of bruises....the 5 year olds could ski better than me... :)