Primary Pandemonium

Well, the first Sunday of the new year was nothing less than chaotic. I was so excited for it, mainly because Payson was going to be joining us in the primary room as a brand new Sunbeam, and I couldn't wait to see this tiny little boy sitting in one of the little yellow chairs staring up at me, enthusiastically doing the motions to "Popcorn Popping."
I knew things would be a little crazy at the beginning, but I had no idea of the mayhem that would hit around 3:15. I left during the closing song in Sacrament Mtg. as always, and walked into a quiet, near-empty, neatly organized primary room. I got my stuff together and sat on my chair, excitedly waiting for the primary kids to come, and more importantly, the new Sunbeams.
It was like the quiet before the storm.
For anyone not familiar with our primary, last year we had about 30 Sunbeams. Those Sunbeams bumped up to CTR 5, to be replaced by 30 new Sunbeams. Our primary room is bursting at the seams.
So besides the normal new-year chaos of kids trying to find their new seats and new teachers, parents lingering to help said kid find their new seat and new teacher, we had about 30 three-year olds, hopped up on on fruit snacks and Cheerios, ready to get out all the pent-up energy they have so righteously been storing for the last hour and ten minutes.
And each of those three year old's parents, usually both, which meant two parents for every three year old.
It reminded me of one of those stock-broker rooms, with all the bodies shoulder to shoulder, people talking loudly, but all muddled together so you can't actually make out any one conversation. Of course there were the obligatory four kids screaming, clawing at their parents as they tried to pry them from their blouses and suit coats and hand them to the teacher who is silently muttering, "Only two hours......two short hours.....I can do this....blessings in heaven.....blessings in heaven....."
The temperature in the room had to be at least 85. It was stifling. I was instantly dripping in sweat.
Then Payson came in, followed shortly by his best bud, Nicklaus. As Nicole (his mom) walks by, she says to me, "I'm so glad they're in the same class."
"Oh, me too!" I said excitedly, just learning that they are.
Nicole, I want to be the one to tell you that already our two sons are those two boys. You know, the two that you can't let sit by each other or all they do is goof off and mess with each other and don't pay attention? Yup, seperated within the first five minutes.
What on earth was I thinking? I should have known that my son, who cannot sit still for more than five minutes would have been, well, what's a nice word for "out of control?"
Every time I looked at him his face was half an inch away from Nick's face, his lips sticking out like he was about to blow a rasberry on Nick's cheek. I swear, he was totally oblivous to the fact that there was someone up at the front talking. Even when it was his mother leading him in Popcorn Popping!
After they were seperated, he sat and scowled at me for about fifteen minutes, slumped down in his chair, arms cross, legs dangling (it took everything in me to keep from busting out laughing in the middle of my songs). It was like I was looking at my Kindergarten self. (For anyone who hasn't seen it, that is exactly what I looked like in my Kindergarten class picture.)
But the best part came when the whole primary was sort of let loose to plant seeds in Dixie cups as classes, and Payson suddenly realizes I'm the one whose been up there the whole time, and comes up to me whining that he wants to go to class. (This means nursury.) I try to explain to him this is his class, and if he goes and sits with it, in just a minute he will go to class and get a snack (please, please have snacks for them!). It actually works, and he disappears into the sea of bodies that was the Sunbeams, and I sit and think how proud I am that he went back to his seat like a good boy.
Nope. Not 30 seconds later, he comes rounding the outside of the chairs clear over by the piano, actually running, poor Brother Tracy chasing after him.
Is this seriously my son? The kid whose primary teacher has to chase him around the room? And did it stop there? Nope, five minutes later, the replay. There they go again.
I don't know what possessed me to think his Sunbeam experience would be the same as his sister's, momentary insanity, I suppose, but I learned today that my son, despite my best efforts and intentions, is a typical boy. Or worse. Brother Tracy never had to chase Nicklaus around the room, and sweet little Kaden sat on the front row like an old pro absorbing every word and reading his mini-scriptures! Come on, people, help me out here. Where did I go wrong?
So, needless to say, I came home and threw a party that today was over. And by "threw a party" I mean came home and stuffed my face (it was fast sunday) and sat on my butt and loved that it was over. I only hope next week is better. Each week I find myself dreaming of being on the Enrichment Board, or teaching a Sunday School class.
And Nicole, I understand if you pull Nicklaus out of Payson's class, due to the bad influence and all.
Oh great, now he's that kid!