Today was rough. Mostly I cruise along, so busy keeping us all afloat and functioning that I don’t feel the bumps and swells in the current- but today, I scraped myself ragged on the rocks- all damn day.
Last night I went with friends to see a band downtown, and it was great fun– I honestly had forgotten how much I enjoy going out and hearing music and socializing with grown ups. All three bands played bluegrass-y music and Johnny Cash covers. I got asked to dance once, and some guy spilled a beer on my boots. I had a good time- but it also got me in late, and left me very tired today with little reserve to deal with three kids by myself.
I had the super-fantastic idea to make doughnuts through my haze of tiredness- from scratch. Clearly, right off the bat I should have seen how low my brain was functioning. I actually thought this was a good idea. We got to church late, and for some reason, even the overflow was overflowing. We ended up having to sit in the foyer, and missed taking the Sacrament altogether.
Bean got a new primary teacher, and is not dealing well. At all. As in , throwing a chair across the room and shoving another pile of chairs over. I told the primary president this was going to be rough, and I suggested a specific teacher or two- neither of which are his teacher. It’s going about how I thought it would. Bean was also spotlight child, and Abby was assigned her first talk ever. By the way, who thinks asking a 4 year-old to talk on “Feasting upon the words of Christ” is a good idea? How about “I am thankful for my eyes” or “Jesus loves me!” Those I could see…
I couldn’t focus in Gospel Doc, and it was pointed out “helpfully” by someone that the slit in my skirt gave a flash of white when I walked. Excellent, now I’m immodest too. Super. The single mama has a kid who throws chairs and flashes her g’s- rocking up the points.
It was all I could do not to cry all the way through Relief Society. One of my best friends taught today, and she did a wonderful job teaching about sacrifice– and it was too close to the bone for me. Had I not been sitting in the front row, and had it not been such a close friend, I probably would have bailed. I really, really wanted to…
After church Bean threw an ever-loving fit at least three times and trashed the play room. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and hide, and every time I turned around someone needed me for something and tears kept leaking down my face unbidden. Sometimes my fall-back emotion is to get mad- I’m more productive that way– today, I just wanted to cry. My mom called and let me vent to her for a bit, and I had a good conversation with a friend who also has a child with autism, and who understands the struggle. It helped.
Now, with the monkeys in bed and the house quiet, I feel reasonably calm and centered again. It’s a travesty that tomorrow is a school holiday (that makes me want to cry again) but I’ll make it. Today is done, and I can do hard things. I can. I can and I will.
10 thoughts on “Close to the Bone”
If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t hold it together during the same lesson, and I WAS on the front row.
In our Primary in PA, where I was in the presidency, we had 1 autistic child and we picked an adult to shadow him and stay with him as he went through classes, so no matter who his teacher was, that helper was consistent. It was a long term calling, and we weren’t in a ward with many people you could pick for callings, but we prioritized it and it made everything run much more smoothly for the whole primary. When he couldn’t handle class or sharing time she would just take him to another room and let him color. They got really close and if she ever moves she’d better give lots of warning so we can slowly transition him to someone else. (I say us as if I still had anything to do with it). You might run such an idea by your primary president and bishop, and remind them that you’ve got the entire primary in mind with this suggestion, not just the well being of your child.
I’m a little annoyed by the fact someone was *trying* to see if they could see something in the slit in your skirt. If it’s not blatantly out there, they need to keep it to themselves.
Virtual hug from a lurker of your blog.
Sending cyber hugs. Surely you get blessing points for staying in RS instead of bailing.
I think Em’s idea is a great one. I wonder if it would fly with your bishopric. And I agree with Glittersmama. Ms. Helpful should have just kept her nosy mouth shut. Was that a bit harsh? Hmmm. Maybe I’d better work on that, but really, she should have.
De-lurking. I did the calling that Em mentions above in my Provo ward. It was tough but wonderful calling. I did it for 2 1/2 years till my young friend Daniel moved. They called me a Primary Assistant. It was a blessing for both of us. Perhaps there could be two people that do the calling, one for the first hour one for the second? I did it for both, Daniel who was not very verbal at first and it took someone who knew his cues. Anyway enough with the unbidden suggestions. Love your writing. Hugs of encouragement from a stranger across the internet, (not the creepy kind I hope).
P.S. I have a little eight year old red head of my own that is still under protest about his teacher change. He spent last Sunday in nursery with me. Better there than having a crying fit and needing to be carried writhing all the way, to me by the primary president, again.
I agree with both Em and Glittersmama. I have been in a few wards with Primary Assistants and it has to my knowledge been a fantastic fit. I think it’s worth suggesting. Often times I think our programs are so focused on needs of the entire group, but we have had many talks from our General Authorities about focusing on the one, seeking out the one. Bean definitely needs some singling out of the good kind here. And really, I don’t even know what to say about Ms. Helpful. Only a very close friend should be able to point something like that out. It’s not like it was intentional and really comments like that just make the recipient feel horrible. Hugs.
Um, I think all of us have rocked our gs at one point or another. And unless you can actually do something about it (pull them up, pull something down), well, yeah, keep your mouth politely closed.
I second what em says. We did that in our ward. Worked out okay until the person decided the kid in question didn’t need her and asked to be released. Oops on that one.
The G’s comment makes me mad. Comments like that from someone who is not close to you is rude. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen a man’s G’s sticking out the top of a shirt but I have never heard someone comment on it!
Comments are closed.