Today was another sick day, and I enjoyed all of the time I had with my girls.
Before I go on to The Complaint of the Day, I want to make an excuse for why I think I can write about this. Currently, I write this blog for two primary audiences: 1. Grandma and Mom 2. My posterity.
This complaint is for the benefit of audience number two. I imagine that any descendents of mine will have issues with feeling inadequate at any or all points of their life journey, and I want them to know they were preceded by a maternal figure who was deeply flawed but who still kept faith and tried her best even when facing personal weakness. I don’t want them to despair that they can never measure up to a false veneer of perfection.
Mom and Grandma, this is in no way to say that you have such a veneer! I am convinced that the two of you epitomize the height of all that is good about humanity. It’s not your fault that I think you’re perfect; you just happen to have lived beautiful, inspiring lives. I hope my posterity feels likewise inspired by your wonderful, sweet examples. But since I am not perfect, I sometimes get depressed at the vast difference between the amazing women who mothered me and the mediocre person I am. I don’t think there’s any danger my kids will grow up thinking I am perfect, but if they somehow emerge with that delusion, I hope this blog will easily dispel that. Also, I think oral traditions in most families tends to turn good ancestors into flawless saints whose weaknesses aren’t ever mentioned, and I don’t want that legacy for myself.
If I recorded this day as perfect and lovely in every way, that would be a lie. It wasn’t, and I wasn’t. I was having a great day until my Relief Society president came over for a visiting teaching interview. By the time she left, I was upset and deeply annoyed. Those feelings aren’t a reflection on her as a leader but rather a reflection on my awesome habit of getting offended easily.
My whole day felt off after that visit. Abe and my mom listened to me vent for a loooong time. I did feel better after talking to them, but every time I think about the visit, I get upset again. I know Jesus would forgive perceived injustice–the source of my upset–especially when the offending party happened to be a good person trying to do her best. I recognize my Relief Society president is an amazing person who is exerting with all her might to do good, minister and serve. I can see that.
But I am still struggling to like her. And I am praying that God changes my heart so I can forgive something that probably doesn’t even merit forgiveness. I am hoping that when I wake up in the morning, I am filled with charity and warm fuzzies for my good leader.
In the meantime, I’m venting (yet again) on my blog. Sigh.
And I don’t even have pictures to end on an upbeat note. The girls were terribly cute and endearing though. I got lots of warm fuzzies from them. (Although Mary did punch me in the nose when I tried to give her an ugga mugga while she was chowing down on one of her beloved clementines…)
However! In a strange and happy twist of fate, my partner and I slam dunked our dish tonight. I will have pictures of our soup tomorrow, but tonight was one of those rare school nights where I tasted (!!!!) success. That was happy.