Hmmm...where to start. A couple of weeks ago I went to church and got a new calling. Didn't see it coming. Church ended and I took the 3 young 'uns out to the car contemplating whether I wanted those new Vanilla Creme Frosted Mini Wheats for lunch or left over chocolate chip cookie dough when my husband came running out to the car in a panic. "Amy, where have you been?" I was sitting in the car with 3 kids so I thought the question was a little reduntant but I played along.
Amy: Sitting in the car. Why? Where have you been?
Chris: We have an appointment with the bishop. Are you coming?
Amy: (blank stare)
Chris: I told you about it before church. Remember?
Amy: (blank stare)
Chris: They're waiting for us. Hurry.
Amy: Couldn't I just wait here in the car. I hate unbuckling all those car seats plus I'll just embarass myself when you get some calling that leaves me alone with the kids and I break out into one of those ugly emotional scenes.
Chris: (blank stare)
Anyway, the whole way into the church I was praying. Not the reverent, soft, gentle kind of praying but the real ugly raw emotional kind of stuff. I just knew my husband was being called to something that required nights, weekends, and me alone with all these kids after 6:00 p.m. We sat down in the office. When I say "we" I mean the adults. Jake and Matthew were jumping on the chairs and Hannah was crying, straining, and pooping. The bishop talked as loudly as he could and when he said, "Amy, we'd like to call you as the new primary president" I missed it because I was yelling at my kids. You think I am exaggerating but I'm not. He got no response so he tried it one more time and this time the room went absolutely silent. Those of you that know me know that although I can be awkward I am usually good at bluffing through the social scene. No. This time it was long awkward silence. I remember hearing the second hand tick on the clock and smelling Hannah's diaper. We all sat there. The bishop shuffled some papers and finally said, "Uh, would you like some time to think about it". I seriously don't know what happened after that. I remember Chris saying, "Are you alright?" and I asked him not to talk to me for a few minutes. I remember crying a little bit as we pulled into the driveway but that is it. All a blur.
I need to get to the best part of this story. Had some really amazing experiences choosing my counselors and secretary...amazing women with some serious combined years as former primary presidents, counselors, etc. (Didn't know this when I chose them but loved starting our first presidency meeting by saying "Well, if you ladies need any help with anything, you just call and let me know.") We decided to hold our first presidency meeting at my house and why not? Go ahead and bring the kids. I have 3, my first counselor has 2, my second counselor has 5 and the secretary has triplets. We ended up with 7 children under the age of 4 coming to my house to play. Presidency meeting started off with sippy cups full of juice and water and a couple of diaper changes followed by blood in the play room, a graham cracker disaster in the family room, a riot in the bathroom, and plastic dinosaurs stuffed in decor in my house where I didn't know stuff could be stuffed. I quickly ended the meeting and asked if anyone wanted to go bond at McDonald's playland.
Things went well for the first 3 minutes and then the first counselor's son came down out of the play structure to announce that the second counselor's son had just "spilled his stuff all over the playland." While we were trying to discover what the mystery "stuff" could be that he was spilling, children started pouring out of the playland tunnels shouting, "Barf! Barf! There's barf all over the playland!" and sure enough, there was her 2-year old son standing at the top of the structure staring intently at the floor. More chaos ensued. I really could go on and on...from trying to coax her son to come down to the children fighting to climb up and get a first hand glimpse at the "barf" to my 4-year old son asking me just what "barf" meant and if I could tell him all the other words people use to describe throw up. Yeah, its what my husband mumbled in my ear when I sat down after being sustained....Let the games begin.
