The Beginning of Something Great

Do you ever have those moments where you see something amazing and think, "Man, I wish I had my camera!" and you get this feeling of regret in your stomach for having forgotten it? Like you're forever leaving something behind that you'll never get to see or experience again and you're scared you'll forget it? No? Lucky.

Yesterday, after going to check on Amanda's cat (because they decided to venture off to Italy, whatever), we drove around their town. We passed by one of the prettiest churches I have ever seen. I had one of those moments I mentioned above. I wanted to take a picture of this church so badly. I told my mom that I could not forget my camera the next time we went to Amanda's village. Well, guess what. Today, I did not forget my camera and I was able to get the picture! I think I might make it a point to bring my camera with me even on my little trips around town. Hey, this could be the beginning of something great.

Just My Sunday

Sunday is pretty much my favorite day of the week. The only downside is that we have 9am church. I can handle 9am church when church is only five minutes away...but it's not. It's forty. Getting ready by 8:20 is truly my everest.

I was told to prepare for my hectic sunday mornings and just shower the night before. Okay. Done. Only I never dried my hair before falling asleep so I woke up looking a bit like this:



I mean a bird could have camped out in my hair. I decided to just work with the waves already there and curl it a bit in attempt to make it look nice. It worked and I was like:



Sacrament meeting went well. We got to hear such lovely testimonies. I love the first sunday of every month just for that reason. It's also kind of fun to listen to everyone's stomach growling during the silent moments. At the end, Amanda turns and says, "I have a favor to ask of you." "..what?" "Can you teach nursery next week?"



I said yes because she said it would be easy. Plus, I like little kids. We'll see how it goes.

On the way to Sunday School, my mom and I got side tracked by pretty much everyone it felt like. I don't mind! I love chatting. While we were talking to one lady, the missionaries found us and just kind of stood close by. I knew they were there to talk to my mom and I kind of smiled to myself. I was thinking, "How is she going to get out of this one? They're right here." Well. She managed 'cause this is how she walks around the church:



We finally got to Sunday School and we couldn't find two empty seats together anywhere. Mostly because neither of us wore our glasses. I apparently ended up sitting in someone else's seat and my mom teased me about it throughout the lesson. I was so scared. I didn't want to make anyone mad but I also didn't want to get up all randomly and move elsewhere. My mind was so preoccupied by this situation that I wasn't really paying attention to the lesson. I tried to look like I knew what was going on though. It went something like this:



Then Relief Society time came. They have this new thing where you have to sit by people you don't know. I haven't really met anyone new from doing this but it does make me quieter and pay attention to the lesson more so if that's their goal then props. During the lesson, a guy came in and started talking about missionary work. He said we should try to make March "Missionary March" and bring friends to church. He said they have Mustache March at his work but they now call it "Child Molester March" because of how their mustaches turn out. I didn't know if it was okay to say that in church. So I just went along with all the other reactions I saw. Liiike this:



We got home and my dad said he wanted to go out for lunch. Uhhh...



I went. I don't even feel bad about it. Pizza Hut with my parents never happens. Lunch together with my parents never happens. I feel it was justified.

Then we came home and I've been cleaning and writing this post ever since. My room was such a disaster. I finally have it neat and organized. Woooot!

I Need A Baby.

Yes. This is the thought that went through my head numerous times in church today. Of course, there's a great story behind it so here it goes!

Before the start of Sunday School, the teacher was walking around asking if anybody was willing to read quotes she had printed out. I turned to my mom and said, "Just don't make eye contact." The teacher walked by and guess what! We weren't given a quote. Yay!

As the teacher is still preparing before the lesson begins, a woman comes and sits in the seat in front of me. She has a baby in a carrier and places it on the floor next to her chair. The baby girl was adorable. She was sound asleep with her eyelids and fingers twitching every so often.

The teacher starts setting up her microphone and the speakers were turned up waaay too loud. The baby carrier was rather close to the speakers. The baby started stirring but hadn't fully woken up yet. Then the lesson began and the teacher's voice eventually woke the baby up.

Apparently, when babies wake up, they have to be fed. Wanna know how I learned that? This is how. The mother turns around, looks at my mother and I, and says, "Can one of you two read this quote? I have to go feed her and I won't be back in time to read it." Ah, fetch. I take the quote knowing my mother wouldn't read it. I was never so opposed to reading outloud as I was at that point. Mainly because I hadn't been paying attention to the lesson up to that point seeing as my mother had brought M&Ms to church and I was focussed on picking all the blue ones out to eat.

All I kept thinking was, "I need a baby. If I had a baby, I could get out of anything. They eat and cry so much. I need to borrow somebody's baby. Right. Now."

"Who has quote number 2?" says the teacher. I raise my hand. "Do you need the microphone? Somebody get her a microphone, it's better this way." I beg to differ. So I'm given the microphone and, because I'm so close, it starts making this noise that sounds like a spaceship. So I just start talking louder and hold the microphone as far from the speaker as I could. It was a sight to see. The quote paper in one hand and the microphone in the other, nowhere near my mouth. Longest quote ever. Or, at least, it felt like it.

I finish the quote and hand the microphone back to the guy that gave it to me. I was happy to get rid of that. My mom says, "I'm proud of you. You spoke even though you didn't want to." I turn towards her and smile. Then her face goes into this huge smirk. "Ohhh noo," I'm thinking, "What now?" "You're lips and teeth are blue...very blue," she says. Of course they are.

The mother comes back with her baby no more than five minutes after I read that quote. She turns to me and says, "Did you read it yet?" "Yes." "Oh, thank you!" "No problem!"

Lesson learned: Don't eat blue M&Ms in church. Or better yet, pay attention to the lessons! :)

Oh My Bishop!

Ever since I began going to church, my mother has taken it upon herself to make sure I keep going and be good. If I say a bad word, I get the, "Emily Rose Rice. What did you just say?!" Meanwhile, she's swearing up a storm over some guy driving too slow. If I even start to crave coffee and tell my mother about it, she says, "Ah, I'm telling the Mormon God." I've asked her a few times about who she thinks that is. She doesn't know. If I wear a dress that's a tad short, she looks at me and says, "Would Jesus be seen wearing that?" Nope, don't think so but thanks for that image. So tonight, my mother was wearing a pair of jeans that wouldn't be allowed at the school I go to because there are holes in them. I took the opportunity to get back at her for some of the above reasons and say, "Mom, your jeans are against the dress code." She goes, "Well pardon the expression but they can bite my ass," which leads me to my next story.

My being home has led my mother to try some new things. One new thing is going to church with me. She has gone with me for two weeks and loves it so far. I'm also teaching her other expressions to say other than her usual, "Oh my God!" or, in some cases (most cases) her explicit phrases. So far, it's been pretty interesting. The other night, we were in the kitchen cooking whatever and she says, "Ohmygod!" and I said, "Mom!". She quickly says, "I mean ohmybishop!" I nearly died. I did not teach her that. Ohwell, I think we are getting somewhere at least.

I love her!