This Is Why Mormons Have 400 Kids Each

I don’t want to beat a dead horse here, but there are a few things mentioned in my ward this week that really bugged me. We haven’t been to church in a few weeks, so while sitting in sacrament meeting I was really feeling the spirit. Sunday school was a bore as usual, but my husband kept me busy as he impatiently misbehaved the entire time. Then, in Young Women’s (I am an advisor) the topic was on how our views differ from the views of the world. Things like alcohol, drugs, etc… Then came the part about having children in which one of the girls quoted a prophet/leader, “It’s incredibly selfish to not have children when you are able to do so.” or something to that effect. Then she went on to quote more leaders, “People often ask how many children we should have, and to that I say ‘Have as many as you can handle.’” Then she began to get emotional, saying she can’t imagine not using the gift God gave us.

The reason these statements bugged me is because not everyone is the same. I know LDS people that have no desire whatsoever to have children. (Albeit there are very few of them…) but it’s not because they want to “make money” or “travel” – it’s not for worldly things. It’s simply because they aren’t the nurturing type and they don’t particularly enjoy children. I find absolutely nothing wrong with this, and having church leaders say otherwise really makes me angry. Personally, as you may know, I want to have children! But I am not like everyone else. And we all shouldn’t be the same. Sometimes I think Church leaders, but ESPECIALLY certain members tear down people when they are different. They don’t realize that it’s okay to be different and have different feelings towards something like bearing children.

Then the statement, “Have as many as you can handle” just threw me over the edge. I am assuming he meant have as many as you can handle mentally, physically, and financially. Which is a good idea in theory, but all in all really dumb. Again, everyone is different. If I have the mental capacity, the physical ability, and the financial freedom to have “just one more” after say, my 9th child it doesn’t mean I should just keep having kids. Of course, there are people who want more than that, so I say “Go ahead!” But just because you CAN have another child, doesn’t mean you SHOULD, or HAVE to.

I think the church needs to reiterate that having children is good, but only when we can afford to do so. So many times it feels like the church is egging us on to “raise seed unto the gospel” no matter what the cost, or how much government assistance people are getting. Granted, the majority of the LDS people in my area are filthy rich doctors, but we all know the starving BYU students who decide it would be a good idea to have a kid, then get on government aid, and eat ramen just so they can “fit in” with the church mindset of having kids as often and as soon as possible.

Break the mold a little people!

My Embarassing Temple Trip

Last night our ward drove up to the Idaho Falls temple to do baptisms for the dead with the Youth.

I drove up to the church, making sure I had extra underwear and makeup for afterward packed away in my little brown bag in my purse. I was right on time, at 5pm. However according to Mormon time I was 15 minutes early. So I waited around for some others to show up. I was wearing a tea length skirt and flip flops as the other youth leaders arrived in long skirts, heels, and pantyhose. I huddled with the people I knew the most, and watched four suburbans pull into the parking lot. The prayer was given once everyone arrived, and the bishop handed me my temporary temple recommend. (Mine had expired, and I've been too lazy to get a new one.) We piled into one of the suburbans, and of course I sat in the very back next to the luggage. The women had these ugly floral laptop-case-looking bags, which I assumed carried the stuff that I brought in a paper sack. All in all, there were four girls and two guys in the car, all my age.

I looked around and realized that there is a distinct possibility that I was completely misplaced. This may be purely coincidental, but the three women in front of me all had the exact same cropped bob for a haircut, with blonde highlights on top, and a burgundy red underneath. They all wore the loose fitting empire waist shirts with short sleeves that gather at the shoulder. Pantyhose, long skirts, and black tacky shoes. They all started talking about their babies and toddlers. Drool this, poop that. I looked out the window and tried to remember where I was going, and what I was doing. Despite the fact that the Young Adults of the Corn were taking me there.

Once we got to the temple, we sat in pews to have prayer. The temple workers informed us that any endowed members won't be able to get baptized, and would have to help. Therefore all the adults went to get their temple clothes on. I am not endowed yet. So there I sat. The only woman over the age of 17. I talked to the girls, trying to pretend that I ELECTED to get baptized with them "to be cool."

I have only done baptisms for the dead once, so I was rusty. Rusty as in, I looked a little lost the entire time. Thankfully, the endowed sisters realized that I was terrified and guided me along in the least condescending way possible. When it was my turn, I stepped into the nice warm, chlorine filled water. The guy baptizing looked a little scrawny, so I decided beforehand that I would help him out a little and be sure to really "push" off the bottom when he brought me back out of the water. (Let's face it, his arms would get tired.) However, I was entirely too eager and had to be "re-dipped" twice. Frick, even the teenagers could do this part.

After all was said and done, I was basically over my sheer mortification. (What could be worse than being dressed in a white jumpsuit that gets completely soaking wet?) So I gave up on the whole "trying to look cool and knowledgeable" thing, and dripped my way into the locker room. I got dressed, and prepared to do my makeup. However, the slick counters, partnered with my clumsiness, made a fascinating scene as my foundation shattered on the floor. Thankfully, it was that “solid” mousse stuff, so it didn’t get everywhere. But if you ever visit the Idaho Falls temple, and get your foot sliced open by broken glass – that was my fault.

I barely made it to the “movie” room (which is new to me…) and tried to isolate myself in a corner to not cause any further humiliation. All the girls came in and sat next to me. They talked about how many times they had seen “Johnny Lingo,” and I ended up confessing that I had never seen it. They gasped in horror. Or maybe jealousy. Like, “Your mom let’s you watch non-LDS movies?” Yes. My mom.

The scrawny guy that baptized me came in and apologized for not knowing who I was, and having to ask my name at the font. He remembered that I was new to the ward. He said he assumed I was a new “Youth.” That was the best news I heard all day.

Now for the best part. The food. We trekked downstairs to the cafeteria. I was ravenous, but tried to minimize the piling on of food since the ward was footing the bill. I got a normal sized plate of food, with a piece of pumpkin pie. (And I even omitted the scone for diet purposes.) I sat in front of my visiting teacher and her husband only to witness that them, along with everyone else, had done the opposite of me. Three scones, pie, salad, chicken, veggies, Jello, potatoes, milk, soup, fruit, juice, butter, all on one tray. However, ultimately I am glad my eyes weren’t bigger than my stomach as it was more that satisfying. Apparently, people actually fast all day to prepare for this temple food, and I can see why. Yum!

It was a great experience. Embarrassing at times, but really great. And even though the women who drove with me are all a little “Carrie Conformist,” I think I am going to make a concerted effort to make them my friends.

Coming Out of the Closet

My husband and I were engaged in an interesting conversation yesterday. We were talking about our weekend plans, and noticed that we have no "Mormon" friends. All the people we hang out with (see previous post) tend to really be the polar opposite of what we need to be around. I say "need" because hubby and I seem to take on the role of whoever we hang around for awhile. Like our neighbor, the 19 year old high school dropout with a 3 year old child, no job, no money, who does lines of crack on the hood of her car in the middle of the night with strange hoodlums, has sex with random people she later tells us about, and uses our washing machine almost daily...(inhale) I'm not that bitter, though. We like helping people and sometimes she's fun to be around. All this "helping" however, has her at our house 24/7 practically and her potty mouth rubs off on us. We were already pretty potty-mouthed to begin with, but lately as we have been trying to be "good" we've wanted to change all that. It's also rare to find a couple our age to hang out with who don't already have kids. Our other neighbors are in our ward and they don't have kids yet. Their weekend activities include...World of Warcraft. That's it. Sorry, I can't handle WoW talk anymore than I have endured already when hubby went through that phase.

So what's this "Coming Out of the Closet" I speak of? Well, during our talk about our lack of friends, husband made a good point.

"Do you think that when Mormons get together, they try to be all 'good' and not swear, or get angry, or talk about sex - then when they get home alone with their wife they act just like us? Or do you think everyone but us is 'good'?"

I don't know... Maybe a little bit of both! Is that nice dentist and his perfect wife from church really the way they seem? Or does he say "DAMNIT!" when he spills pop on the carpet? Does she leave the dishes in the sink for whole week? Do they talk dirty while doing the hibbidy dibbity?

All the questions are valid, and I would really like to know the answer from any Mormons who have some insight on this topic.

Cutting Out Early - A Sunday Story

Yesterday my husband and I got in a fight before church. He was still laying in bed, and I was nagging at him to get up and shave his "14 O'Clock Shadow" as I put it. He refused to shave - but I refused to let him go to church looking like a caveman, so I told him not to even bother getting dressed.

I stormed out of the house and drove to church, where I sat in the third row all nervous and heated. I practiced my closing prayer in my head, constantly looking back at the door to see if my husband had changed his mind and decided to come. I texted him, but no answer. I was so mad that he wasn't there for my first prayer, because I didn't know when to go up - or what to do really - and I needed his help. When it was time for my prayer, I said something like this:

Our Father in Heaven, we are so grateful for the testimonies heard today
And we are so very grateful for this fast Sunday
We ask that the testimonies heard today will inspire each of us to strengthen our own testimonies
And we ask that our fasting and prayers help those in need, and our own families
We humbly say these things in the name of Jesus Christ Amen.

My closed eyelids were shaking, and I was worried that my skirt was tucked into my underwear or something, since the bishopric was sitting two feet behind me the whole time.

It went pretty well, but the moment I was finished I grabbed my purse and bolted out of church and went home.

As I was walking in to my house, I spotted my Mormon neighbor. His wife must have stayed home too, but he was just now leaving to go to church.

Husband was sitting on the couch playing video games. I went upstairs and got dressed in a tank top and shorts, and began to furiously clean the house. I made sure to stomp by the TV frequently, and opened up the blinds to let the sun shine in so he couldn't see the screen.

As my temper died down, I finally broke down and just said - "Hey, let's have a barbecue." So we loaded up the kids (neices, and nephew) and went to the store and bought burgers, hotdogs, charcoal, and the works. We remembered we needed plates, cups, and utensils, so we headed home real quick to grab some.

As we pulled into our apartment complex, we spotted a lady from our ward walking home from church. Her back was to us, so we stopped the car and began slowly creeping backwards, so she wouldn't spot us.

Husband: "I didn't know she lived here too!"
Me: "Oh crap, I think she's coming to visit us!"

We all watched intently from the car, which was stopped in the dead middle of the parking lot, as the woman approached our door....

She passed it up and proceeded to walk through our yard to her house. But then she stopped. And started talking to another woman from the ward!

Me: "Good grief, everyone who lives here is from our church!"
Husband: "Pull into the spot behind my truck, maybe she won't see us."

So I did. But the tactic failed horribly and we were within perfect view. I reversed slowly, and hid behind the truck.

Kids: "Is she gone?"
Me: *creeps up* "Yes!"

We ran inside, grabbed everything we needed, then went to the (deserted) park. We were all alone, and had a wonderful time. Although, Mormon families kept pulling into their houses across the street, which was a bit awkward. We cooked elk steak, burgers, hot dogs, and had smores. Even though I cut out early, and my husband didn't even end up going to church, we had a great picnic.

Sunday Prayer

For the first time since I joined the church, I will be saying the closing prayer in Sacrament meeting this week. I know it might not be a big deal for everyone else, but I am pretty nervous about the whole thing. I have secretly been practicing in my head, and I just hope I don't revert to my childhood Baptist "Dear Baby Jesus" prayers.

When I pray in front of other people, I usually do pretty well. I start with "Our Father in Heaven..." but try to avoid the prayer template. (Below)

My husband and I were talking about this, and he said, "Just make sure to include lots of "Thee's" "Thou's" and "Thy's."

I laughed. But he wasn't kidding. He said that someone might end up talking to me after Sacrament about it if I didn't. On his mission, a new member got up and started praying without "Thee" or "Thou" and the Bishop talked to them afterwards about including it in their prayers from now on.

"Umm, how about I pray the way I want to? I mean, I won't be waving my hands and "Praisin' Jesus" - but I don't want to sacrifice content for formality. Thinking about adding "thy" instead of "your" will make me get all jumbled up." I said.

He agreed. He just didn't want me to feel bad if someone said something to me. If someone came up to me and said I had to start using "Thee" and "Thou" I might leave the ward.

Yes, there is a certain way to pray. And for those who DO use the formal words and prayer template, I don't blame you. Not only was it the way Mormons were taught, but it's also a way to "fit in." Heavenly Father knows me. He knows that the way I pray is reverent and formal - not fake. If I started using the vain "repetition" that everyone else does, knowing it's not right for me especially, prayer would no longer be about praying. It would be about trying to fit in with everyone else, and sounding like a sheep.

To a point, I will stay within the loose prayer guidelines. But I won't be using the same voice inflection, or trying to input Thee's and Thou's. I want to say a prayer so that people will pay attention instead of zoning out like I do. The only prayers I tend to pay attention to are those that are unique. So that's what I want to be, unique!


The Mormon Prayer Template

Our Dear Kind and Gracious Heavenly Father

We are so very grateful to be able to gather here this Sabbath Day

We are grateful for: (Insert Sacrament speakers here) who were able to (enlighten, regail, bore) us with their testimonies.

And we ask that Thou wildst bless those who were unable to join us.

We ask that Thou would bless our family and friends (with good health, so that they may have the holy spirit with them, to bring something other than Jell-O to the picnic)

And we also ask, Dear Heavenly Father, that we will take the words spoken here today and apply them in our own lives

We humbly say these things in the Holy Name of Thy Son Jesus Christ Amen

A Funny Day at Church

We had kind of an out-of-the ordinary day at church today. While the talks and subjects weren't particularly memorable, everything that made us not pay attention was....

Today's speakers were all women, because of the new Young Women's leaders. The moment they started to speak, the bishop fell asleep and all the old men broke out their books and started reading instead of paying attention. Jerkoffs. Sorry - that's just rude.

We had three speakers, and every one of them cried. Like, almost indecipherable wailing. The first girl didn't even divert her eyes as she reached over to the tissue box. The other two felt it necessary to dig into their nose with the tissues. Ew.

In sacrament we were starving. A Samoan woman got up to talk, and she made us want Hawaiian BBQ really bad. (I'm not being racist, she just reminds me of a lady that worked at a Hawaiian BBQ.) I couldn't even focus because I wanted spam musubi so bad. Then in Sunday School we were talking about the book of Jacob and the allegorical story of the olive branch. I said "Mmmm, olives..." And my husband followed up with, "Oooh. Olive Garden sounds so good." THIS is why you should eat before church.

Our Sunday School room is directly underneath the primary room. We can hear the piano just as well as if it were sitting right in front of us. Not to mention the thunderous roar of little footsteps and shuffling chairs. They sang "I Am a Child of God" FIVE times in one hour. I don't even know what to say about this.

I looked over at my husband and he was staring off into space, mouth gaping open and eyes wide. I couldn't help but laugh out loud, then quietly ask him what the heck he was doing. He said, and I quote, "Oh. I was thinking of a way to Jackie Chan myself out of a situation. I was fighting the guys, and coming up with moves to kick their ass. But somehow I end up dying in the end anyway."

We are going to be getting temple prep classes from an older couple at church, and the Bishop introduced us after sacrament. I reached out my hand to introduce myself, and Mr. Eggbert shook it lightly and said, "I need to talk to your husband..." and almost flung me out of the way by my arm. I stood about three feet away, feeling very insulted. He then asked if my husband would say a prayer in church next week. I thought, "Ha Ha!" Then he turned to me and said, "And after that, it's your turn." These are going to be some interesting temple prep classes.

Ah good times.

Our New Ward

So, on Easter Sunday my husband and I attended our new ward for the first time. In our meeting with the bishop, he referred to it as a "Newlywed, Nearly Dead" ward, which in our findings was eerily accurate.

Rows and rows of white hair, interspersed with screaming babies and children running loose in the aisle ways. One dad in particular was keeping his son at bay by holding onto his overall straps. Four or five mothers and three fathers stood in the back of the church, comforting their babies. My husband couldn’t pay attention to save his life – so he kept whispering to me and fiddling with my hand. In front of us were our neighbors, whom we had only met once. Of course in our desperate attempts to make friends, we were excited when they began talking to us after sacrament.

Sunday school was actually intriguing, as I learned more about the inner workings of our new ward. It seems our ward is slightly dysfunctional, with rumor mills, inactive members/people who leave after sacrament, and a slight separation of “class.” I figure we will fit in just fine. The Sunday school teacher expressed dismay at the “rich” people who live in the nicer houses in the new subdivisions, and how the “good” people are the meek ones who live – where she does. I think she said this not realizing that half the ward lives in these “rich” suburbs. Her statement got chuckles from two women sitting in front of us, who undoubtedly are married to doctors, and live in these forsaken places.

I know why they call it “Relief Society.” What a better way to escape children and husbands than to talk about God and crop night. I sat down in a corner alone, hoping someone would sit by me. Someone younger than say, eighty. All the ladies sat together chatting front and center. A young, pretty, smiley mom introduced herself as the RS president. The two younger women from Sunday school entered and made a beeline for me. They were blonde, pretty, and held babies on their hips. As the meeting began, I looked around and noticed I was the only person in the room who isn’t a mom. The girls who were pregnant or holding babies sat on one side, and the older ladies on the other.

This week is going to be interesting. During the last two meetings, we were introduced as the “new” people, and were asked where we live. Without thinking, we blurted out our address. I expect they will be showing up around 7pm every night this week.