We made this:
Excited? I know, me too! Coming to the blogging world this July...stay tuned!
We bought this:
I don't think your husband loves you as much as mine loves me. Just sayin.
And last but not least we've been perfecting this:
I love him folks. Enough said!
This morning I am happy. Blissfully happy! Yesterday afternoon however this was not the case. I was pissed yesterday and ready to throw an elbow down right on top of a certain persons superior-better-then-you-are-attitude. Being a respectful self-controlled young mother I refrained and instead carried my hurt feelings out the front door, called my sister and cried. Dammit! I cant believe I cried!
Yesterday afternoon I found myself sitting in another woman's kitchen talking crayola crayons and how best to remove a melted masterpiece from your dryer. I love talking to other moms. Who doesn't? This particular mom I've known for a while. She's watched my kids, I've watched hers. My family has sat at her dinner table and hers at mine. I thought we were friends. I was wrong. The problem with claiming a "Borderline Mormon" status is finding a way to stay true to who you are and recognizing those who want to save you from your heathen ways. In other words diminish and/or crush how you and your significant other choose to raise/teach your children. I let my guard down this particular afternoon and that's so not like me.
When we first moved to Arizona we were astounded at how quickly the Mormons found us and how quickly we were assigned a "Mormon Buddy." The problem with having friends who are also members of the church (well for me anyway) is that you never know if they are your friends because they genuinely like you or they're trying to save you.
NEWSFLASH: I DON'T NEED TO BE SAVED!
Our conversation yesterday afternoon took a turn for the worse when my mommy friend flat out asked me why I wasn't doing certain things if Jeremy and I had indeed gone through the temple (like I have a reason to lie about being sealed) and were worthy enough to do so at the time. After that long awkward silence the grilling continued. She asked about Jeremy's drinking problem. Drinking problem???!?? What the....why the hell would she....hold on....I had to lower the lump of fury in my throat that was sure to spew out of my mouth in a few moments. I sat there on that wobbly kitchen stool trying to hold back tears as she asked if her husband could come into OUR house to give OUR new baby a blessing after he is born. You know...since Jeremy and I will burst into flames if we set foot back in the chapel.
Let me clarify a few things. At one point in our 10 awesome years of marriage Jeremy and I were active and very much believed in the LDS church. We were sealed in the Portland Temple and it was wonderful. However, over the years we found that faking our way through church callings and social standards wasn't who we wanted to be. Finding that line between faith, maintaining that faith and all that accompanies it is what I find most difficult. Does that make sense?
Second, Jeremy DOES NOT have a drinking problem. We don't have beer in the fridge nor do we have a mysterious unlocked liquor cabinet floating around the house somewhere. I cant remember the last time Jeremy had a beer in his hand, it's been that long. So find another family to gossip about Mormon Mommy...I just don't need your crap right now.
This is what it boils down to: I am a good person. Jeremy and I do our absolute best to raise our children with a strong sense of community, faith in God and respect for others. We will never deny them opportunities for growth or a chance to learn and that makes us good parents. We don't need anyone to validate us as parents or as human beings. Yesterday I learned to never allow what others choose to gossip about (apparently its Jeremy's drinking problem and our lack of Mormon underwear) to make me cry. Defend your family, love your husband, and kiss your babies no matter how old they get or how embarrassing they think you are.