Misunderstood

In Relief Society, our leaders have a tradition of asking what good news the sisters have at the beginning of our meetings. Yesterday, because it was fast Sunday, the young women had joined us for our opening exercises, and Hannah encouraged me to say something. In an effort to oblige her, I raised my hand, and when called on, said the first thing that came to mind, "My children go back to school this week."

From the row behind me came another sister's quick response, "Well I love my children!" with a tone that clearly implied that I do not. The conversation quickly turned to other topics and probably passed out of everyone else's minds, but not mine.

I. was. mortified. (mortify: cause (someone) to feel embarrassed, ashamed, or humiliated.) Part of me wished the ground would open up and swallow me. Another part of me never wanted to volunteer a comment in Relief Society ever again. I felt misunderstood and misjudged. I wished I'd had an opportunity to explain myself.

I do love my children! It's not that I'm anxious to get rid of them that I'm glad that school starts again. It is the return of "normality" and routines that I'm looking forward to. When we are on holiday, bedtimes and early mornings disappear. I am more relaxed about chores. It is because I enjoy spending time with my kids - playing games with them, etc. that I let my own responsibilities slide and my house succumbs to entropy and chaos. I'm also a better mother sometimes when I have some time each day to be on my own, to gather my thoughts, to plan, to strengthen my grip on sanity.

So yes, I feel like it is good news that the children go back to school this week. Even if it were home school that they were going back to, it would be a good thing, because it would be a return to work, responsibility, and accountability - things that I've let slide a bit because we were on holiday.

I'm not really upset with the woman who made the comment. I'm more frustrated that something that I said could be so misunderstood. I am a mother. I love my children. How could anyone even suggest that I don't?

As a result of this experience, I am thinking that I need to be more careful about the comments that I make. I need to think twice before I speak, and try to be more clear about what I mean. I need to be more careful that I don't say things that could embarrass others, or make them feel the way I did. Like the primary song says, "If the Savior stood beside me, would I say the things I say? Would my words be true and kind if he were never far away?" (If the Savior Stood Beside Me)