A Family's Decisions

I have a few thoughts tonight.  My son just finished Kindergarten.  He scored the highest in his class on the standardized test in the subject of reading.  There were other awards earned, given, and received, but I am very proud of my son.  And, I am very proud of this family.

People say a lot of stupid things about working moms, about families with two working parents, and even about families who choose private school over public.  When it comes to these trades in life my theory is: Be happy with your decision.  Be honest enough with yourself to change it when it doesn't work.  And respect the other woman or mom enough, to let HER be happy with HER decisions.

Our family juggles a crazy schedule, a good dose of hardship, long commutes, and ........ regardless of all that ...... my child has still learned to read.  We have made our decisions with a lot of thought and prayer.  Depending upon the choice, we continue to "check-in" to make sure that this is the only solution or that it is the solution we still desire.  We are not my mother's family, or that other family at church, or that other family at school.  We are OUR family.  Our children are loved, and they and their education is a priority.

And I am very proud of my son and our little family tonight.

I am helping to index the 1940 census for easy computer searching.  Go to https://familysearch.org/1940census for more info.

My Sabbath

I'm a Latter-Day Saint (LDS).  We have a lay clergy -- which means every member has a "job" at church in additional to their "normal" job and family duties.  Our bishop is also a high school teacher, his first counselor is a draftsman and handyman, and his second counselor (my husband) is a financial services representative.  I also have an assignment -- I'm the Primary President, which means I'm responsible for the religious education of the 18 month olds through 12 year olds.

I have known and still know some adults who resent the amount of time their parents spent in their church assignments.  They feel that their parents cared more about their assignments or "callings" at church, than their own kids.  I don't know, I think we all find something to resent our parents over.  I was the kid who's parents didn't always come to church.  My parents weren't very active until I was in high school, but they were always good people, I knew they believed in God, and we always prayed as a family.  I didn't really understand the advantage of a temple marriage over a civil-only marriage until my parents were married in the temple when I was 16 years old.  The four of us kids were also "sealed" to them for "time and all of eternity" at that time.  Then, as a judgmental, opinionated teenager, I saw two good people with a good marriage, become something greater.  This lesson has served me well over the years.

I guess I don't have a lot of sympathy for the adults who were active kids with active parents -- seems like a strange thing to hate your parents over.  However, I do worry about my kids feeling this way some day.  I don't want them to hate the Church because their Mom and Dad were busy serving everyone else, but them.  I am very careful about how many hours I ask them to be adults in little kid bodies.  Because really, the end goal is for them to love the Lord and His Church, as much as I do -- if not more.

So, back to today's sabbath:
This morning, my husband and I both needed to attend Ward Council (basically, our congregation's staff meeting with the bishop), which meant also taking the kids -- an almost 5 1/2 year old and an almost 2 year old for a 1.5 hr adult meeting.  (Who is going to babysit at 7am on a Sunday?)  Thankfully, I have two wonderful counselors who trade off months with me, but this month it was my turn.  As I pulled up to the church 30 minutes late -- totally my fault this morning, but I didn't lose my cool -- my kids cheered and screamed, "Yay! Church!".  I said, "Okay, but first we go to bishop's meeting."  Then screams of "Yay!  Bishop!"  Man!!!  That did my heart good!!  This made my month!!! These two "little" adults were great during the meeting, and help me set up chairs in the classrooms afterward.  Then, during church, with everyone watching and my husband helpless in the front of the room, I was in the back pew with two little ones who decided to be children again.  I racked up 400 steps on my pedometer while "sitting still" in church, and my last comments were, "No touching!!!".  I was handling it okay, better than some days, but I was ready to turn them over to their teachers.  A member of the Stake Presidency (leaders over ~10 local congregations) walked by afterward and smiled "You did a good job."  I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, right!"  He smiled again, "I know its hard."  Thank you, I needed that.

A Good Parenting Article

I love this article!!  Made me feel better.  Thank you to the Ralph's grocery store clerks and baggers who always show patience to my children, when I've obviously reached my limit.  By the time a certain mother is pulling out her bank card, she is particularly curt and unbending to any child's request(s).

Apologies To The Parents I Judged Four Years Ago

My husband and I have judged other parents in our pre-children days, only to hear ourselves this Saturday at Sears saying, "I know she's screaming, but we can't take her out.  She needs pants and shoes.  Her pants don't fit."  And with a committed look, the other saying, "Okay, we can handle this."

Adoption Message of Hope

This will be short as I actually have house chores tonight, now that everyone's in bed.

I just wanted to send a blast to all my unknown friends out there -- all those adoptive parents in waiting.
A few people have asked me lately, "Oh! You adopted your kids!  So, how is that process, 'cause I've heard a few things?"  My response, "Yes, its awful.  Its stressful, and exhausting, and unfair, ....  BUT I now have two wonderful children."

I would throw myself in front of a bus for my two beautiful children.  I would walk on hot coals for my kids.  So, yes, I would even go through the adoption process all over again for them.  Every intrusive question, every monthly inspection, every form, every long day of waiting.  Every sleepless night wondering if the adoption would ever finalize.  Every fear.  Every terrible nightmare.  Every tear and every prayer.  Every strain it has put on my body, on my family relationships, and on my marriage.

Yes, I would do it again -- for one day like today.  A swim lesson, a little friend's birthday party, two kids tracing their mother's outline with sidewalk chalk, a movie at home, one kid falling asleep in the highchair and another snuggling close.

Keep hoping, because eventually the judge will say "it is as if they had been born to you".

Serving in Primary

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Primary is the organization responsible for the children ages 18 months to 12 years old.  Since we have a lay clergy, this organization and its teachers are all volunteers.  We're also responsible for a pre-teen girls group that meets twice monthly, and the cub scout group.  On Sundays, Primary has two hours of instruction, music, and maybe a game for the children.  One Sunday per year, the children give a presentation to the entire congregation during the main church service, or sacrament meeting.  I am currently the Primary President for my local congregation or ward.  We believe that our assignments or callings come from the Lord through inspired leaders who pray about these decisions.  I know that Heavenly Father has directed my hand when I have asked the bishop to assign various people to my Primary -- yes, mine.  I believe the Lord wants us to take ownership of our callings and our ward.  I have had very clear answers in choosing my teachers and counselors.

I am grateful for my assignment in Primary.  I may be wrong, but I think I've been in Primary since the autumn of 2009 -- this time around.  That means that for two years I spend the first hour of church struggling with my own children in a pew trying to keep their sounds somewhere below a roar, and the next two hours assisting teachers, struggling with or teaching everyone else's children, and still struggling with my own.  The experience itself is exhausting, but its also often frustrating when the adults are unreliable.  That means that for two years, I have not heard an adult lesson in Church and it would appear to some that for two years I haven't felt the Spirit in Church, but they would be wrong.

I am a busy person.  I don't even say it anymore, I pretty much refuse to, but people come up to me and tell me how busy I am.  They just don't know the half of it.  I don't have time to talk about it, I just run.  Most of it, I do to myself.  Some of it is the result of various external influences.  Lately, its completely out of hand.  I know that I often come across as cold or unfriendly to other adults because I am so focused on getting the day done, on being there for the ward's children and keeping an eye on my own, that I don't stop.  I barely see anyone else.  But that is exactly why the Heavenly Father put me in Primary -- because He knew what these last two years would be like for me spiritually, personally, and professionally, and He knew it was the one place where He could still break through my tough "survive at all costs" exterior and reach my tender heart.

Me, with two college degrees, who leads teams at work and at Church, who can in one breath size up a junior engineer, a multi-year cost account on a government contract, the contents of the refrigerator at home, and the local six year old.  I've studied the Gospel in depth, and served a faithful full-time mission.  No matter what's going on, or how distracted I am, I can be reached in & through a Primary lesson.  My Father in Heaven can reach my tender heart through the honest, straightforward questions of a handful of children.  He can reach me by letting me know that the 20 minutes of instruction I provide are some of the most important moments in my entire year.  And I know that I don't want to fail those children.

I am grateful and very honored to serve the children of my ward.  I know that the Lord has guided my hand in powerful ways to select my counselors, secretaries, teachers, Nursery leaders, Activity Day & scout leaders.  I know that being a Nursery leader for the 18 month old - 3 year old children is not a baby sitting assignment.  I know that it is pretty much the most sacred calling in the Church.  You are laying the cornerstones of their testimonies through music, talking, and play.  You are showing them that someone besides their family loves them dearly.  That this is a tree, it has leaves, and that God loved the children so much that He made a world of trees for them, that He made apples for them to eat, and dogs that go "woof, woof".  You are teaching my son, his favorite song, "I Love to See the Temple".  You are holding my daughter while her mother teaches elsewhere, because God asked her to  -- and only because she knows it was her Father in Heaven who asked.

So, support your local Primary president.  Accept the assignment, or accept the request to substitute teach.  But better yet, support her when she calls that Nursery leader -- quite possibly she prayed about it and is merely running the Lord's errand.

He Goes To Kindergarten

"The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was...." almost five years old. And he begged his mom to wear his church shoes to his first day of Kindergarten because he wanted to "be fancy". And he stood there in long pants of dark blue corduroy, a white polo already bearing the mark of a morning's granola bar, gray dress socks, and black leather shoes waiting just long enough to tolerate pictures with his mother's cell phone. And it was all she could do to hold it together in a maze of parents and excited children, even though she wanted to scream from the rooftops, "This is my son. My baby. He is special because I say so. And listen up world... you will not harm him, and you will be kind to him!" Then in a flash, that boy, ran off toward a table of Lego’s, and never looked back. (And the subtle humor of that moment was not lost on his engineer-mother, for she saw herself in him.)

And even though this was not the first morning she had said good-bye to him, it was a significant morning. The baby she had waited for, fought for, and prayed for, who had miraculously appeared via a phone call on an average Monday (literally by special delivery from God, Himself) ... who had turned her life, her house, and her heart upside down ... was no longer a dream. He was hers. He was a boy who would someday be a young man, who would someday leave her. And she would have to trust him to the world and to the Lord. Trust him to be safe and good and kind and righteous ... trust him to be whom she saw that very first day she held him in her arms.

And when that almost five year old was safely at school, she opened the door to her car, sat down, and she cried. She cried and she cried and she cried. And somewhere, she found the strength to let him grow.

(The quote and inspiration are from Love You Forever written by Robert Munsch with illustrations by Sheila McGraw.)