Words to the wise

I've had my fair share of uncomfortable callings in the church. Some of them included young women (a calling I would have loved had the total four young women...that's it..four..weren't punching each other at school or getting pregnant at 14), choir director (another calling which would have been fun if I had any knowledge whatsoever as to how to direct a choir. There is a great difference between being in a choir and actually being in charge of a choir. This calling also would have been fun if I could get anyone to actually come to choir practice), and sunbeam teacher (a calling that would be a little more enjoyable had the children actually listened to what I taught and didn't fight over who got to sit on my lap that week).

I've also had some callings that I've LOVED including being a missionary in Spain, ward missionary, young women (different ward, different young women:-), relief society teacher (one of my personal favorites), and primary pianist (an extremely rewarding calling just to be able to listen to the funny things kids say in primary every week). My eternal calling (one I've had in every ward I've ever been in since Chase and I were married about 7 years ago) is the activities committee. I have always been mindful of being grateful for callings and have learned to never reject them. Some people will say no to callings and I've always thought this was lame because it made the job of the bishop, a calling I hope Chase NEVER gets, even more challenging.

There is however one calling that I have absolutely NEVER wanted. I never told anyone for fear of actually getting the calling to "teach me a lesson" in the future. Can you guess what it is? When we moved into our current ward we sat down with the first counselor in the bishopric as Chase was extended the calling of sunbeam teacher (hee hee). Brother Scott didn't have a calling for me just yet and I told him that was probably a good thing because I was as sick as a dog in my first trimester of pregnancy. Then I made a remark that I had always told myself NEVER to do. I told Brother Scott that I didn't want to be in nursery.

I wasn't feeling well and the last thing a mother of young children wants to do is take care of other mother's young children. I live in a nursery at home for Pete's sake! It wouldn't be right to have a worn out mom put in nursery who wouldn't be excited to be there every Sunday. Nursery should be extended to Dads, people who have grown children, or people who just can't get enough of snotty nosed, smelly, and wild rascals. This is the one calling I would probably say no to. For shame!!!

Guess what calling Brother Scott extended to me just a few short months later? I blame it on myself for telling him I didn't want the calling. He's either trying to "teach me a lesson" (I'm not 4 years old Brother Scott), or he is suffering from Alzheimer's because he obviously forgot that I clearly told him I DIDN'T WANT TO BE IN NURSERY!!! When he extended the calling I asked him if he was joking. I tried to hold back tears. I was not only offended that my one request was not taken into account, but I also had a ridiculous amount of self pity for my sad nauseated self. I pretended to get something from my diaper bag (that's right...DIAPER BAG...because I HAVE A CHILD IN DIAPERS BROTHER SCOTT), so he wouldn't see how flushed and angry I was. I choked down the tears and smiled at Chase who obviously could tell I was FURIOUS!!

I asked Brother Scott why he was giving me a calling that I clearly told him I didn't want and he asked me if I was going to make this calling the "first calling I would ever say no to." Was he challenging me? I did feel guilty. I worried about the consequences of being struck by lightning once I left the building if I did actually say "no." All I really wanted to do was punch the guy in the face but instead I said "yes" after he assured me I would be released before the baby is born in January. Gee, thanks! Only a man wouldn't take into account that by the time I give birth I will be so incredibly large that people will be asking me if I'm having twins. I won't want my own children crawling all over me, let alone other people's children whom I don't care a snitch about. I won't want to lift children off the tables, bend over to pick up toys, or go around sniffing every child's diaper in order to decipher whose bowel movement is the culprit of the foul stench filling the room. After I left his office I went to our 100 degree car in the parking lot and cried. It was pathetic, dramatic and completely childish. Maybe I am four!!