Archive for the ‘church’ Category


Need a good cry?

Do you need a good cry? Let this story do a number on your tear ducts.

Being in the Olympic spirit all week, and so excited for track and field, I stumbled upon this video.

I don’t remember the 1992 Olympics, (I was 6) but I can’t imagine anyone who witnessed this moment could ever forget.

A medal hopeful pulled his hamstring during the race, but he had to finish. And he did–with the help of his dad who ran down from the stands.

Watch this and try not to cry. I dare you.

The video also has a beautiful spiritual message which I really appreciated. I guess you could say I needed that.

Happy Sunday!

I wouldn’t say I’m a bad person, but I haven’t been the best person lately either. Ever since switching to the morning weekend anchor schedule at work I’ve loved having less sleep, and more time with my family, but my church life has suffered tremendously. It was my #1 worry with taking on the new schedule and sadly, it’s taking the toll I feared it would.

I get a long break during the same time as sacrament meeting. So if I dress for church, I can rush over, meet my family, and enjoy one of the three hours of service before rushing back to work. The only problem is the moment my daughter sees me, she immediately wants to nurse and begs and screams until I take her to the nursing lounge, which usually results in me missing sacrament and/or listening to all of the meeting from the speakers in that room. Now, add in my husband’s new busy schedule, and my weekend break hour is a good time for him to squeeze in an extra hour for studying, so add in going home, changing and taking her to church with me before taking her back and heading back to work. I’ll admit, I haven’t been that dedicated.

I’ve promised myself I’d read the scriptures a half hour a night to make up for missing Sundays but that’s easier said than done. I’ve just been happy we still keep up with family prayers.

A prayer for a chance to be reignited was answered when my grandmother told me her choir was coming to my town! She’s in Glady’s Knight’s Saints of Unified Voices choir. It was a chance for my husband and I to hire a babysitter, and go on a date together, but also a chance to feel something I’ve been missing.

We recently went and it was more amazing than I had imagined. Not only was it awesome to see my grandmother on stage with a musical icon, but it was a great spiritual experience. And awesome to hear Sister Knight’s testimony. Oh, and to hear gospel music and loud beats boom through our LDS chapel. We weren’t used to that.

It was also an excellent missionary opportunity. People of all shades came and some people who had never stepped foot in an LDS church sang along in praises to gospel songs they knew shouting “AMEN!” in affirmation, clapping, and standing when they felt moved. It was incredible.

They are touring the country and if you have the chance to see them I’d go. It’s free and unbelievable.

I left and kept saying to my husband “Doesn’t that make you want to be better?” “Doesn’t it make you want to do better? I want to be a better person.”

It’s often how I felt when leaving church on Sundays (well, before having my daughter, since then, I’ve started to hate Sundays as they’ve been utterly exhausting, and I’m excited if I catch the topic of the lesson).

This was amazing, and just what I needed. I’m not a horrible person, and I’ll never be perfect. But I can be better, and I will.


Sundays Suck

It’s Tuesday and I’m finally recuperated enough from Sunday to write this post. Sorry I missed my Makin’ Monday post. I needed sleep and I finally got it, so I’ll share what I made next week. I’ve got a lot of life ponderings to divulge this week anyway.

First, Sundays just aren’t what they used to be. Forget afternoon naps and relaxing with the hubs, this is my hardest day of the week.

It started from the moment I woke up. I was in our nursery, in the guest bed. My daughter was climbing on me and smacking my face. I had wandered in there the night before when my she woke up crying. She was ready to get up for the day and I was begging for more rest.

I tried to shove my boob in her mouth in hopes she’d nurse and fall back asleep–Sometimes it works. But my husband walks in, dressed for church. He doesn’t want to ask me if I’m coming because he knows I’m tired after a long night of work, and that another long night of work is ahead. But our daughter leaps into his arms with excitement and I know I should go too.

He offers to take her downstairs while I get ready. It would have been even nicer had he dressed her while I was getting ready but I didn’t think about it as I hurried to get prepared.

I brought her Sunday dress downstairs with me and we changed and dressed her together.

If I could have freezed that moment of the day and take it with me, it would have been great. But it was all downhill after that.

We arrived right at 9, which meant the good seats were taken, but we’d at least be there for sacrament meeting.

The next three hours that followed were just short of torture.

She didn’t want to sit with me. But she didn’t want to crawl around and play with her toys either. She wanted to walk around. Excuse me, I mean she wanted ME to carry her and walk around.

Every time I tried to sit down, whether in the foyer area, or in the chapel, she wasn’t having it. She’d arch her back and do her loud baby growl/moan until I obeyed, stood back up, and continued my walk.

I know they say you can’t spoil an infant but at some point they learn how to manipulate mommies and I’m pretty sure my little one has always mastered this art. And she knows it.

She’ll suck on my keys and when I try to take them away she sequels until I give them back. And I do because it makes her happy, and because I doubt it’ll kill her.

So here I am walking my bossy baby around the church, and listening to the testimonies when I can while passing by rooms with speakers.

She does ok when I try to feed her in the mother’s lounge but it’s not long before she’s ready to get to walking again. Still whining every time I so much as stop to read a bulletin board.

Now to her credit she’s not always this crazy. Most of the time she’s a very happy baby who loves to explore church and other new places. I’m not sure what got into her this week. I’m assuming (and praying) it’s teething and not a budding personality trait.

I feel like my daughter is the only mini drama queen at church, or maybe I’m just the only mom that doesn’t know how to handle my child. 

Toward the end of sacrament meeting I gave up and turned her over to my husband. His job (or “calling” as we call it in my church) is to count the members and take care of records. He was finished counting and could hold Lil’ J while I tried to listen and get something out of church.

I heard the last bit of one sister’s testimony which was touching, but not as much as the moment afterward, where she walked back to sit down and I realized she was sitting in our row of chairs. She passed me and I watched her go to sit next to her daughter who appeared to be about 9 or 10 years old.

“You did so good mommy,” she told her with a proud glow radiating from her face.

In that moment I pictured that being me and my daughter in 8 or 9 years, and instantly my frustrations melted away. What a sweet picture.

My eyes watered as I tried to soak in the good feeling. It lasted a few moments, because just then, what seemed like only 40 seconds after they had left, my husband and daughter were returning.

I greeted them, and held my daughter, she seemed to be happier–At least momentarily.

We sang and listened to a prayer that ended sacrament meeting. The first of three hours of service.

Yes, you read right. THREE HOURS.

I whispered to my husband that we Mormons are crazy for having tons of kids and meeting at church for three hours ever week. He told me it didn’t always used to be that way, and vowed to go undercover, move up in the ranks, and change it back to the way it was a hundred years ago. Just for me. What a guy!

Off to Sunday school we went. The hubs had to go do clerk stuff so I took Lil’ J to my class. We didn’t make it through introductions before she was flipping out again and I excused myself.

Last week another mom had given me a tip to visit the nursery with her. I can’t leave her in there alone until she’s 18 months but she could go and play with the toys and hear the lesson now if I was with her. So we went to visit and see what it was all about.

Toys toys everywhere. She wasn’t happy when I set her down but she wasn’t screaming either. There was enough stimulation going on to keep her entertained for about 40 minutes or so, with me playing along with her every once in a while. Around lesson and snack time though, she was ready to go and eat, but not the food these kids were eating, so we excused ourselves again to go back to the nursing room.

I saw a woman I had seen in there earlier with her baby again and we talked awhile. I had given up on trying to have any kind of spiritual lesson that day and just asked her about her family life. She told me how she wants to have six kids, and I asked why in the world she’d want to do that. I mean, sometimes I say I want six kids but deep down I don’t mean it. It was neat hearing her opinion on spawning.

Lil’ J fell asleep while eating and I tried my best not to wake her. Perhaps she needed to catch some Zzzz’s and that’s why she was acting a fool. I’m not sure.

After church I laid down for a 20 minute nap before heading to work. I felt like a failed mom as I handed my daughter over to my husband to tame her while I rested a bit. Why can he handle her better than I can?

I got a tiny bit of shut eye before a 14 hour shift at work. I was already sleep deprived and crying on my way in–Feeling deflated–defeated by my mini me. But little did I know the day I had ahead of me. Yea, I didn’t get hope until 4am after the news from President Obama. It was exciting but exhausting.

The whole day I kept asking myself “why did I go to church?” It’s so awful I feel that way but even in my somewhat refreshed state I’m in right now I do have to ask myself that occasionally. Especially around the third hour of meetings where I haven’t heard a thing from a speaker.

I know this is just the season of life I’m in right now. It won’t be like this forever, and in another 8 months I’ll at least get two free hours of babysitting out of the deal. And if I’m lucky I may even learn something again.

It’s not like this every Sunday–Thank goodness. I think if it was I’d probably go inactive.–But I hope it’s not the start of a crazy long phase where my angel baby turns into a little devil at church.

Going to church on Sunday is such a great way to feel refreshed and uplifted before I start my week all over again. But going to church with a baby, I’m learning, is an entirely different occasion.

My ward (or “service” if you’re not LDS and have no idea what I’m talking about) meets for three hours every Sunday. The first hour is for Sacrament Meeting, the second hour is for Sunday School, and the third hour is kinda a continued Sunday School but the men and women split up for Relief Society and Priesthood (the kids go to Primary).

Last Sunday I missed about 80% of church. Why? Because she wanted to eat every hour. We’d sit down for the meeting, and after a short while she’d start fussing. So I’d take her out to the nursing lounge, feed her, burp her, check her diaper, to then take her back out. Repeat five times.

By the third hour I decided to just stay in the mothers lounge so I wouldn’t disturb people getting up and down.

Today it started the same way. She’s get wiggly, and noisy, and sometimes just outright grab my boob. But after I fed her twice I decided to put my foot down. She had eaten twice and she could go an hour or two without eating. She had to be able to. She’s four months old and to the age where she should be able to gobble up her meal and be set for a few hours instead of taking sips here and there. It wouldn’t kill her (or in my opinion even hurt her the slightest) to wait an extra hour.

She fell asleep nursing the second time I fed her, but she ate a lot before then. She likes to be awake, alert, and in the middle of it all and seems to hate sleeping in public. So when we sat down for the last hour and a half of church I knew she wouldn’t be long before she woke up, which she did like clockwork, only about 20 minutes after she fell asleep. Just as soon as it was time for the last class.

I sat in the back and put her in my lap as I normally do. She made faces at the women beside me, and in front of me, but didn’t whine. She tried to grab their songbooks, but I tried to keep her from getting a papercut. Note to self: Bring one of her board books next week.

After the song and prayer though she had had enough.

My instinct was to take her to the mother’s lounge and feed her again but I decided to try something else.

I took a toy out of my bag and handed it to her. She grabbed it, shook it, and chewed on it for a few minutes. Then she dropped it over and over and watched me hand it back to her. Then she had enough of that.

I then took a pacifier out of my bag and stuck it in her mouth. She actually took it! She’s not a huge paci fan so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it entertained her nonetheless. Until she dropped it out of her mouth.

I watched it hit the floor in slow motion and sighed as I reached for it under my chair. Why didn’t I buy those binki wipes? I thought to myself. I know some moms put the pacifire in their mouth to, I dunno, wipe off the germs, but to meet it just seems like you’re adding your own. Not that I’m a germophobe, in fact, if other people weren’t around I probably would have just dusted it off on my pant leg and popped it back in her mouth. –You know that’s what you’d be doing by the time you have your fourth or fifth kid anyway!

I reached in the bag and found another pacifier and stuck it in her mouth. Same deal, she was interested for a few minutes. This time I kept my hand propped under her slobber-drenched chin to catch it when she spit it out. It was like we were playing a game and finally she beat me and managed to spit it out just when I had reached for something else. And pacifier number two hit the ground.

I grabbed yet another one from my bag–surprised I had so many of these on me. But by then she was bored with the binkies. I looked at the clock. Twenty minutes left. We could do this. She really shouldn’t need to eat right now.

I tried to hug her against my shoulder, sway her back and forth, cradle her, but she wasn’t having it.

She was interested in the jacket my neighbor was wearing since it was a black and white zebra design. Lil’ J played with her for a few moments before she started whining again. My friend thought maybe she had gas. So I laid her down on my knees and did a move I learned in our yoga class that helps relieve gas. I pulled her legs down toward me, then pushed her legs up towards her chest. In the middle of the second rep she let out a toot. And another one, and laughed. She thought it was funny.

I started making faces at her and tickling her and she kept smiling and laughing the entire rest of the class period, without another moan or whine.

It was then I realized it wasn’t her fault I kept feeding her every time she whined, it was mine. I just assumed she was hungry every time when in fact she just could be getting bored.

Feeding on demand doesn’t mean every time my daughter cries she’s hungry, I just sometimes assume that’s what’s she wants. I thought she wanted to eat every hour when in fact, I was just offering to feed her every hour and of course she’d eat. It’s one way to pass the time when you’re bored! She’s a growing human being a had a big variety of wants now, including time to play.

Even though I wasn’t in the mother’s lounge the last hour of church missing Sunday school class, I instead missed the lesson because I was busy laughing and playing with my baby. Either way, there’s a season for everything. I’m learning this season of my life may just mean missing a few (or a year and a halfs worth of) church lessons. But at least today I learned my own personal lesson: My daughter sometimes, just wants to play.


The Calling Pt.2

Getting a calling in a ward takes me back to the fourth grade… On the playground getting ready to play kickball. I was waiting for one of the two team captains to pick me for their team. I knew which team I wanted to me on and every time that other captain went to pick someone I prayed it wasn’t me.

For those of you who don’t know about the LDS church, there’s basically a few different sections women can get “called” to. There’s “musical” callings, where you’ll lead people in singing, play the piano, stuff like that. “Nursery” which is kind of self explanatory… You work with the kids ages 1.5-3. “Sunday school” callings where you’ll teach different age levels of classes, “Primary” where you’ll teach and sing with kids from 3-11. “Young Women’s”, working with the teenage-aged girls from 12-18. And “Relief Society” where you’ll work with the older women of the church, 18 and up. But where I go, after all of the other younger women are picked called to help with those other things…So that usually means women approaching retirement and up are those left going to Relief Society.

I was so nervous about what my church calling would be in my new ward. This post will catch you up to speed. Well, I found out a couple of weeks ago what I’ll be doing for the next little while.

Finally, after 5 years of being stuck with the same Relief Society teacher calling time and time again I made a plan to get out of the cycle.

First, I told everyone I met who seemed nice that I did not want that calling. One of the women happened to be the bishop’s wife (that wasn’t intentional, but helpful).

Next, I avoided going to any Relief Society activities. Usually when I’d start a new ward I’d go to an enrichment night or some activities to get to know people faster. Then, within a matter of weeks I’d get the dreaded call! This time I avoided activities I thought would put me back in that predicament… At least until I got a calling other than the one I was hiding from.

Finally, I flat out told the bishop I didn’t want to be a Relief Society teacher. That I had done it at every ward I had ever been in since I started attending the group and that I would really like to try something new for a change. He was nice, and it seemed like he really understood where I was coming from.

Then whatdoyaknow… A couple of months later I’m called into a little room for that special meeting… My heart is thumping because I know FOR ONCE I’m going to be called to something new… I’m going to get to try something different. I had said I’d be excited to do anything… Really? ‘Did I say Anything? What was I thinking?’ Ok… Anything but that and Gospel Doctrine teacher.

I got really anxious to hear what I’d be doing and they asked me to be a Sunday school teacher… For the 17 and 18 year olds! Whaa?! I feel like I’m basically their age! And how am I going to make Sunday school interesting to them?

I’m really quite nervous an intimidated about it. To be honest, I was hoping for some thing in Primary. I mean it is so too much to ask to work with cute kiddos all day? Or maybe it’s the Lord’s way of protecting me from an extra dose of birth control (speaking of which I have an update on that situation coming soon). But anyway, I’m SO grateful that it’s at least something new. I think it should be fun!

I’ll teach the whole month of May but I’ll team teach every other week after that. My first Sunday teaching is next week. The lesson: Law of Consecration. Wish me luck!

Oh, and don’t forget to enter My Giveaway going on right now! I’m going to start doing a lot more pretty soon so stay tuned! 🙂


The Challenge

I’m worried I’m going to be a bad example for my kids. I always told myself “when I have kids we have to have FHE (family home evening) EVERY WEEK,” “I want to have family scripture study and prayer NIGHTLY,” and “We have to make it to church ON TIME.” Great goals to have, but how am I going to do that then if I can’t do that now? I want to say I’m a bad mother and I’m not even a mother yet! Oh dear… That’s good for myself esteem. Future kids I’m sorry… I’m trying to get ready and I’m glad you’ll soon forget the bad example I’m being right now.

One of the most difficult things for me to do it wake up. I LOVE sleeping in. Even if it’s just until 9 o’clock it makes a WORLD of a difference. I only have to wake up at 7am 3 days a week for work (the other two days I don’t have to be at work until 1) and I HATE waking up for work during the week. It’s horrible. Sundays, I try to get up by 8 so we can be at church on time at 9… How many times has that happened lately? ONCE!! It’s pathetic. How am I suppose to be able to not only dress myself, but little people for church every week? I can tell now that sleep is going to be my ultimate sacrifice for parenting. Not getting fat, not stretching and ripping Lord knows what body parts. Not reducing my personal time, but SLEEP!
PS: sorry for the second post today, it wasn’t my intent to hog your feeds. This was just a problem for me today as I struggled to put myself together before church and I thought you’d have words of wisdom for next week 🙂


Today is my 4 month anniversary of starting this blog! Woohoo! It’s also time to draw a winner for my 100th post contest. I got sooo much good mommy advice, and ideas for future posts as well as ideas for cute baby boy stuff to give away in the future. Random.org selected number 38 so the lucky winner is *drum roll please*… Pam from Hands on Learning Fun. Who is actually having a giveaway of her own right now so go check it out!

If you missed this giveaway, don’t give up!! I have another one going on right now that ends in a couple of days! So enter away!


The Choice

Which would you choose?

Of course in a “perfect world” (stereotypical perfect world in my opinion) a woman would stay home, be a great mom, and wife, take care of the children, and the father would work, and provide for the family. Well that’s not a reality for most families today. It’s not. Apparently around 75% of families in the United States are dual-income families, or both parents work. that’s very eye opening… Especially since I feel like most of the women reading my blog are stay at home moms.

Now I’m going to stir the pot a little, I’m beginning to go back to my old liberal thoughts a little when it comes to some “expectations” for family child-rearing practices (especially when it comes to LDS families).

This is a quote I often here when relating to “The Timing” of having children:

President Kimball said, “It is an act of extreme selfishness for a married couple to refuse to have children when they are able to do so” (Ensign, May 1979, p. 6). When married couples postpone childbearing until after they have satisfied their material goals, the mere passage of time assures that they seriously reduce their potential to participate in furthering our Heavenly Father’s plan for all of his spirit children. Faithful Latter-day Saints cannot afford to look upon children as an interference with what the world calls “self-fulfillment.” Our covenants with God and the ultimate purpose of life are tied up in those little ones who reach for our time, our love, and our sacrifices.

It’s hard to admit this out loud, but reading stuff like this often pushes me in the opposite direction of the way they’re trying to lead. It’s not that I’m rebellious, it’s that I can’t help but feel that it’s either 1. Out of context or 2. Not meant for everyone.

When I read “It is an act of extreme selfishness for a married couple to refuse to have children when they are able to do so” the key words to me are “able to do so”… Able to me means ready… In many ways.

Some would see this and think it means “Get to it! What are you waiting for?” But that can’t possibly be the case in every scenario. That can’t possibly mean, “if you don’t have any money have faith and we’ll give you welfare of all else fails.” I don’t know… Maybe it does, and maybe I’m an evil person for saying this but that just seems irresponsible to me.

This may sound like a previous post I had, but if you bear with me, I’m trying to be more specific.

When you compare this with other doctrine it seems even more challenging. In other scripture like The Family Proclamation it says things like “…Fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children.” I’m sure leaders of the LDS church know there’s not a cookie cutter situation for every family (at least I hope so) and that these are GREAT guidelines, but I can’t believe that this is really what it expected of everyone. Especially not if you put both quotes together. Sometimes (like in my case) one wouldn’t be possible if the other is necessary.

I can’t help but feel a little envious of women who are at home with their children while their husbands make all of the money. Hey… Most of America doesn’t had that privilege. But I think it’s a little much to expect that of everyone. What if the husband can’t make enough to support a family but the wife can? Should you “wait” until he can? But then you’re breaking “rule #1”. Or should the dad stay at home while the wife works… But you break “rule #2”?

It seems that in some–No, a lot of cases you have to choose one or the other. An even bigger extreme: What if you’re both unemployed? Have a kid anyway?
Am I alone here? Am I reading too much into this? I believe in faith and miracles but I also, agree with Cynthia when she says ultimately we live with our choices and I try not to “check my brain at the door.”

I really do welcome all of your opinions so please, don’t let my crazy rant scare you off, even if you’re not with me on this.


The Calling

Ever since I’ve been old enough to be in Relief Society I’ve been called to teach in Relief Society. It’s the calling that won’t leave me alone. My husband and I have moved about 6 or 7 times since being married. That at least 5 different wards and in EVERY ward I have been called to that same calling. No lie, I have never done anything else.

My most recent abduction to the calling was in Springville, Utah. When I received a phone call requesting a meeting with the bishop I knew what was coming.

“I’m going to say no,” I’d whine to my husband. “I have had it! I can’t escape it and I know it’s coming for me again.” I talked about it as if it were a relentless plague coming to get me, kill me for good.

It wasn’t that I hated what I was doing, I was just tired of doing it.

Come Sunday (or whatever day it was the bishop called me in) he said the dreaded words I only hoped I wouldn’t hear: “We’d like to call you to be a Relief Society teacher.”

I was only half expecting the words I said to follow: “I’ll pray about it.” The look on his face was something to the effect of: Oh no she didn’t! I could tell he wasn’t expecting that response either. He asked me to get back to him within the week and I did… of course accepting the calling. Although I’m still pretty sure the bishop couldn’t stand me after that.

In our most recent move to Austin I haven’t been given a calling yet. I started at a new ward in January and I know a calling is coming soon. Sunday after sacrament I was waiting for my husband in the chapel when a woman approached me. I’m a little hesitant at first. Here’s my strategy: Be extra nice to primary people, make sure they know how much I LOOOOOVEE kids, and be more shy around RS women, don’t let them know how cool I am. This woman had a baby on her arm and I immediately went soft.

“This isn’t my baby,” she said. “Sister Smith’s husband sits on the stand so I help her watch her kids during sacrament.” She talked about how she loves kids and I jumped right in, blurting out all of my business.

“Me too, I’m actually hoping I get a calling in primary or something so I can work with them,” I exclaimed. “I need to be really nice to the Primary President or something because I’m ALWAYS called as a Relief Society teacher.”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Well my husband is the bishop so I’ll see if I can put in a good word for you.”

[insert foot in mouth]

Good thing I have such dark skin because all of the blood was rushing to my face and all I could manage to say was “oh really?!” She probably thought I planned the whole thing.

Just then a short man walks up and introduces himself “Hi, I’m Bishop M. I had my wife grab you so I could introduce myself.”

“Cool,” was pretty much all I could think to say. I’m usually not hard to catch, but all I was thinking was you’re the bishop? I thought it was the other guy with the brown hair.’ I’m always thrown off when there’s an extra high council member on the stand (you LDS people know what I’m talking about).

He asked to speak with me for a moment and I feared what was coming. I saw his wife whisper in his ear before we turned out of the chapel. I knew what she was doing, but it gave me little comfort… More embarrassment actually.

As we made our way into his little office I thought of a strategy: Get to him before he gets to you.

He sat me down and asked me one simple question: “So tell me about yourself.” And that was all I needed.

“Well, I moved here in June but was going to a different ward because of the time difference, and I have work at 1:30 and I’m so glad this ward, our real ward, is starting at 9am now and I’m so excited to be here, and everyone seems so nice and I am really excited for a calling but I’ve had the same calling for the last five years and I don’t know if it’s because the Lord is trying to tell me something or if it’s because I always go to those enrichment meeting things when I start in a new ward then the ladies try to–“

“–Immediately give you a call in Relief Society, I understand.” He interrupted me, but I could tell he could feel where I was going with this.

YESSSS‘ I thought to myself. ‘Success!’

“So you basically would like any calling but one in the Relief Society?” He asked me.

“Yes,” I replied a little too quickly.

“Great, well I can almost assure you that won’t happen. We don’t need you there right now.” He goes on to tell me they (whoever they are) are meeting on Tuesday to discuss callings and they may come up with something then.

So there I am glowing… ‘I’ll do anything’ I’m thinking. I met up with my husband in Sunday school and couldn’t wait to tell him the news.

“I’m going to get a different calling!” I cried.

Now here I am, excited for Sunday, or whenever it is that I’ll get a call about a calling. I’m a little worried that I said anything, but as long as it’s not something like Gospel Doctrine teacher I’ll be happy. But seriously people IS A PRIMARY CALLING SO MUCH TO ASK?! I thought I’d be a key candidate.. Young, married, happy, spawnless. What else do they want from me?

Nonetheless I’m excited to find out what my calling will be for the FIRST TIME. Solely because I know it won’t be Relief Society teacher, the calling I’ve been damned with for the last 5 years.

Is it just me, or does this happen to you too?

Hi! I’m Jennifer Borget


I'm a part-time journalist, full-time wife and mother striving to make the world a better place and inspiring others to do the same. This is the space where I share my journey in making the most of every day.

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