Oh dear...
Today was the Primary Sacrament meeting program...Oh dear.
Being the first year Joshua could participate, and it being his 4th birthday, he wanted, apparently, to make it a memorable one...
So, after the opening exercises, and the administration of the sacrament, Joshua hoppity-skipped (holding my hand of course) up the isle and up on the stand.
The first few minutes involved him testing his seat to make sure it still worked, and jumping up and down. His teachers had the "oh no, we are in for it" look on their faces, and after repeatedly sitting him down, he finally seemed to calm a little...
You know the whole calm-before-a-storm thing? Yeah... A L L T H E W A Y....
The rest of the program he participated in consisted of him spitting at his neighbors, jumping up and down, laying down his head on the podium, and wandering.
The first little while it was cute until it was obvious that everyone was about to pop him one if he didn't stop it. The proud shining face I had at the beginning clouded over into a motherly storm of impending doom for my little sprout. And he knew it.
As Jeremy and I were deciding what to do, one of the bishopric made the decision for us, RAN down the isle and conveyed his regrets that our child was bringing in the spirit of the devil. So, I retrieved my son, and we spent the rest of the time in the foyer with him crying and screaming.
I didn't feel too poorly about it until after it was all over. Then the primary president came rushing up to offer apologies and hoped I wasn't feeling bad about what had happened. I insisted I was fine, and that it didn't bother me, and in fact was used to my silly son. Then after a few minutes the bishop came up and, as if he was on the same wavelength, repeated, almost verbatim, what the primary president had said.
It was then, and only then, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I rarely get embarrassed, and I wasn't, and I'm not. But I felt the immediate pain for my son. Over the last year and a half in our current ward, we have had our ears full of negative commentary on our son. I don't mind if people have an opinion, but I do mind when that opinion changes how they treat him. Many of those who have worked with him have made it very clear that they don't want him around, and when I say "clear" I mean, they have actually said as much, either to me, or to others and it has gotten back to me. I know he feels it. That is what upsets me most. My little boy is very attune to how people feel, and he knows when things are amiss.
I want to hug him to me and tell all of those who cannot seem to love him that they are wrong for treating him like he is a scourge on the planet.
I suppose that is why God gave Joshua to me. Because I love him so much, and I love who he is. While he makes me cranky sometimes, I know that he is a good boy with lots of love to give and so much to offer if people could only see that he is trying. I think people forget sometimes that we all are learning how to behave. I know I do. Whether it is to sit quietly and be reverent, or to learn to be kind to those who have been cruel to us. We are all at different stages of learning, and that is humbling.
Being the first year Joshua could participate, and it being his 4th birthday, he wanted, apparently, to make it a memorable one...
So, after the opening exercises, and the administration of the sacrament, Joshua hoppity-skipped (holding my hand of course) up the isle and up on the stand.
The first few minutes involved him testing his seat to make sure it still worked, and jumping up and down. His teachers had the "oh no, we are in for it" look on their faces, and after repeatedly sitting him down, he finally seemed to calm a little...
You know the whole calm-before-a-storm thing? Yeah... A L L T H E W A Y....
The rest of the program he participated in consisted of him spitting at his neighbors, jumping up and down, laying down his head on the podium, and wandering.
The first little while it was cute until it was obvious that everyone was about to pop him one if he didn't stop it. The proud shining face I had at the beginning clouded over into a motherly storm of impending doom for my little sprout. And he knew it.
As Jeremy and I were deciding what to do, one of the bishopric made the decision for us, RAN down the isle and conveyed his regrets that our child was bringing in the spirit of the devil. So, I retrieved my son, and we spent the rest of the time in the foyer with him crying and screaming.
I didn't feel too poorly about it until after it was all over. Then the primary president came rushing up to offer apologies and hoped I wasn't feeling bad about what had happened. I insisted I was fine, and that it didn't bother me, and in fact was used to my silly son. Then after a few minutes the bishop came up and, as if he was on the same wavelength, repeated, almost verbatim, what the primary president had said.
It was then, and only then, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I rarely get embarrassed, and I wasn't, and I'm not. But I felt the immediate pain for my son. Over the last year and a half in our current ward, we have had our ears full of negative commentary on our son. I don't mind if people have an opinion, but I do mind when that opinion changes how they treat him. Many of those who have worked with him have made it very clear that they don't want him around, and when I say "clear" I mean, they have actually said as much, either to me, or to others and it has gotten back to me. I know he feels it. That is what upsets me most. My little boy is very attune to how people feel, and he knows when things are amiss.
I want to hug him to me and tell all of those who cannot seem to love him that they are wrong for treating him like he is a scourge on the planet.
I suppose that is why God gave Joshua to me. Because I love him so much, and I love who he is. While he makes me cranky sometimes, I know that he is a good boy with lots of love to give and so much to offer if people could only see that he is trying. I think people forget sometimes that we all are learning how to behave. I know I do. Whether it is to sit quietly and be reverent, or to learn to be kind to those who have been cruel to us. We are all at different stages of learning, and that is humbling.
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