An A-Type Personality

She may be the youngest and half as tall as other family members, but she’s got more spunk than everyone else put together. She’s also gotten more spankings than everyone else put together, but that’s another story. She’s bright, creative, strong-willed, and perfectionistic. We figure she must have been some kind of royalty before she came here to earth because ordering the rest of us peasants around comes so naturally to her. So does avoiding anything that resembles work. Often, we wonder who she was before she was born to a family of comparative paupers.

There’s also a strange dichotomy in her personality too. She can fit and tantrum and be defiant at home, yet she’s too embarrassed to sing, perform, or sometimes even pray in front of her own family. At school, she’s a model student, absolutely compliant, and eager to help. And as we discovered to our astonishment this week, she doesn’t even get nervous performing in front of friends and strangers. Go figure.

This little girl has certainly taught me a lot about parenting. Something every mother with more than one child knows is that what works for child A is not necessarily effective on child B. In my case, the various tactics that worked on C, J, E and E don’t usually work at all on child A. She’s completely her own person. And I’ve learned to love her all the more even after being told “I hate you” and “you’re the worst mommy” more times than I can possibly count. Of course she never means it, and when she comes to her senses again, I’m rewarded with multiple hugs, kisses, and “I love you more than anything” expressions. In those moments I can think “maybe I don’t need to seek out a social therapist after all.”

We got to spend a lot of time together this week. I went to every one of her third-grade class play performances, spent two sick days looking out for her at home, and finally gave her the haircut (albeit a poor one) she’s been asking for. There’s a sweet side to my baby girl that runs deep, and when it surfaces, her inner goodness is beautifully rewarding. I hear things like “thank you for staying home with me” “will you please…” and “I love you my wonderful mommy.” She’s also very giving when the mood hits her, having recently bagged up a half-dozen favorite stuffed animals for an Eagle project donation and cutting off an extra two inches of hair more than she planned to so she could donate it.

I wonder who she’ll grow up to be. Is her willfulness going to stand in the way of her progress? The question arises frequently, and yet in my heart I don’t think so. If her drive and determination is turned in the right direction, she could change the world. She just needs enough unconditional love and gentle teaching to decide to take that path on her own. And we’re making progress. If not, I wouldn’t have received the response I did when I read this to her and asked permission to post it: “You always write things about me that are annoying, but I don’t mind.”

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Milk Chocolate vs. Dark

Not long ago, John and I discovered a little sweet shop in the Avenues. Reportedly, they had the best hot chocolate in Salt Lake and we decided to see if it was true. Not often would I pay $5 for a 10 oz cup of cocoa, but we found it was well worth the experiment. It was like drinking liquid truffle. Mmmmmm! Hatch Family Chocolates even offered a milk and a dark chocolate variety. I selected the first while John took the second. I sampled his and he tried mine. Both of us determined we’d selected the better option.

This past weekend we felt the pull to go again. We even took the same walk we had before along 4th Avenue toward the city cemetery. As we talked, I noticed a beautiful parallel between the steaming cups in our hands and our life in general. While I like a good dark chocolate, I find that I really prefer milk. John will go for dark every time. Makes it easy to share an assorted box of treats.

Similarly, there are other areas in our married life where our interests and tastes just don’t match up. In the past, I’ve been inclined to feel a little threatened or insecure by such differences, thinking that my opinions and tastes weren’t as good. But like chocolate, there’s not a good or bad, there are just assorted varieties. I now realize that such differences make it easier to share the things that are unique about ourselves with each other. Am I willing to try a little dark chocolate once in a while? Of course! Can I listen to different music or examine new artwork or read a book I wouldn’t have considered if I know that it’s something he values? Yes. And he does the same for me. I can have an appreciation and love for dark chocolate while still preferring milk, and it doesn’t change who I am. Learning to share the chocolates in our lives makes living ever so much sweeter. 

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The Blessing and Trial of a Stake President’s Wife

People offered both congratulations and condolences. I did not then realize how fitting that was; not really anyway. Three years ago, when John was called to be the Rose Park North Stake President, I had already learned a number of valuable lessons that I believed would serve me well. Looking back, I have often remarked that every calling he’s had taught me something I’d need to know for surviving his next calling. I learned some valuable lessons through the first 14 years of our marriage.

John was called into an elder’s quorum presidency within two months of our wedding. It followed us through three wards and the next five years. I learned very quickly to add an extra couple of hours to his proposed return time, realizing that his judgment of time wasn’t as accurate as he thought. I also learned to not worry about confidential issues. I’m much happier for it. Next came Scoutmaster—six weeks after buying our Suburban. I soon realized that both our new vehicle and annual vacation time would not necessarily be just for our family to use; they were subject to consecration. Shortly after our baby’s first birthday and before our eldest’s eighth, a calling to the high council was extended. Suddenly I had to learn coping strategies to manage five children alone in church. It was barely within my ability to do. Next came rapid-succession callings to the bishopric and then bishop. The sum total, I believed, of cutting a lot of slack on arrival times, having no curiosity about other people’s private business, the giving of property and time, and at least two weeknights plus Sunday without Dad at home. After all that, I thought I had a fairly good idea of what might be ahead.

So what have I learned after a third of the way through his tenure? On the blessing side, it really is quite remarkable to have many people throughout the stake praying for your husband and your home. The Lord has taken exceptional care of our family. It has been much more than I ever imagined and I am humbled and grateful beyond words for His attention to our needs. And if I have the perspective to see that even challenges are really blessings in disguise, then I can easily say that everything about this calling has been a blessing. I’m trying to see the difficulties for what I hope they will eventually be.

The lessons and gifts my husband has been given in the last three years have become exponential. Opportunities for spiritual growth seem to knock on his door daily. There is just enough need on the part of the people he has stewardship over, and just enough drive on his part to learn and grow, that the Lord allows him to have an abundance of gifts he needs to serve effectively. This is a glorious thing. It’s exciting to watch. How could I possibly find a drawback to being married to a good man? Because it’s also very easy to look at myself and observe that I have a notable lack of similar growth.

I feel as though I’m coming out of a fog. Until recently I didn’t even know I was in one to begin with. Kids will do that to you I think. “How did I get here?” is my mantra and will likely be inscripted on my headstone someday. “Where am I going with my life?” is frequently my follow-up question. I often see myself at the bottom of a large mountain and my spouse has a huge head start. It’s hard not to let discouragement root me to the ground. It’s not that he wouldn’t come back and pick me up and even wait for me, but even so, how will I ever keep pace? It’s hard to feel spiritually fulfilled and inspired when my prayers ascend no higher than the ceiling, scriptures are simply read out of habit, and the efforts of raising a family daily wear my patience down to its very last thread. And housekeeping…well, we won’t even go there.

I think everyone makes unhealthy comparisons from time to time. I just happen to live with the person that I keep comparing myself to. But I think it’s something we all do. There’s always a sister down the street whose kids get perfect grades and can keep her house clean as well. How many people have a mother who knows how to do everything and are constantly asking her for help? Perhaps it’s a great teacher, friend, scholar, or athlete that we feel we’ll never measure up to their standard. It’s hard to recognize that these people have issues too because their strengths seem to outshine their troubles. It is an unfortunate human trait that we comfort and torment ourselves at the same time by comparing gifts. Would my teenage son ask me why he didn’t get a doll for Christmas like his little sisters? Of course not. What he wanted and needed was new clothes.

The Lord knows His children and presents us each with abilities and experiences that will best meet the individual needs we have. He doesn’t always tell us why we got the gifts we did, but I have come to trust that He has His reasons. Father has a much broader vision than we ever do. So much so that in our limited temporal view, we may not even recognize that we’ve been given something special. I hadn’t realized before that learning to admit our fears and weaknesses, and not being ashamed of them, is its own kind of gift. How can we address and deal with something we are in denial of? I’m finally outgrowing my fear of confessing that I have a lot of struggles, that I’m being challenged every day, and that I have a lot of confidence issues to overcome.

I’m also trying to give myself more credit for my strengths. I recognize too that it’s a unique privilege to be married to the stake president, not just because I learn much from him, but because I am also privy to see his faults and weaknesses. He has them like everyone else. As I discover what my own gifts and talents are, without needing to compare packages, I can benefit him as much as he helps me. I’ve found that my strengths balance him out in places where he is weak.

I once heard a story of a young couple who went mountain climbing. The man had a single goal to plough ahead quickly to the top. The woman loved to stop and note the presence of flowers and wildlife. She would stop her partner on occasion to point out a bird singing or a brook rippling by. He in turn would notice things he otherwise would have missed. On the other hand, he would pull her back to their task of reaching the peak. In the end, she made it to the top because of his drive and he better enjoyed the climb because of her appreciation of the beauty along the way. Whether we are forge-ahead climbers or follow-the-butterflies types, we all have a need and responsibility to help each other to the top of this mountain we call our journey Home.

In the case of our marriage, I am definitely the one with the slower pace, but my goal is to get there eventually. I just need to be less concerned with my arrival time. I’ve been learning this lesson the hard way since becoming the “matron of the stake” at age 34 (oh that sounds odd) and wondering what on earth I have to contribute to the good people of my community with so relatively little life experience. But every day grants us a new start and more opportunities to share. I hope it’s the beginning of a lifetime of growth in the right direction.

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