First Talk -- What the heck is going on?

Let's start from the beginning. At our church, children from ages 3 to 8 meet together in a class called Junior Primary. There are at least 30 children with about 10 adult leaders in our ward's junior Primary. Quinn was asked to give a talk or a little lesson about a gospel topic in her Junior Primary today. This is very new for Quinn since it was her first time. News Flash: It was new to me too since I have never been a primary child.

So here is the bigger, deeper issue that underlies all the emotions of this day -- Living vicariously through your children can be tricky. It is a complicated concept, really. It is not like I am dressing her up in fake eyelashes and whipping her down a runway in search of my own star-studded youth. But I do love to be a part of every detail of her life. And I want her to be awesome. And I want her to have fun. And I want her to be proud and smart and happy. And at the same time ... I want to be all of these things too. So there you have it .... living vicariously through your children can be tricky.

But maybe I am not living vicariously. I think maybe I just love my kids -- Quinn, in the case of this story -- so much I want to die. That love is so intense that I can hardly separate her from me. I can hardly feel the difference between her pain and my pain. Her successes feel like they are mine, and her failures are so incredibly sad to me that it makes me want to die.

That said, I think it is all too easy for my fears to become her fears. Since she is quiet and doesn't love to share her feelings, how can I not just assume that she fears what I fear or that she would love what I love? Again, this is all very tricky, and it just might be why most woman I know have a love/ hate relationship with their mother.

But I digress.

The topic given to Quinn was "The Word of Wisdom." This is the gospel principle that teaches Mormons not to drink and smoke or drink coffee and tea. There are some other important ideas involved, but that is the gist.

She yesterday we sat down with Quinn and asked her about the Word of Wisdom. She wanted to talk about her Grandpa John's little coffee cups that she said are "so cuties." She also remembered the smell of cigarettes in Las Vegas, and she remembered that healthy foods help our bodies be strong and healthy. I felt like our talk with her on the topic was lesson enough, and I was grateful for the good experience and resigned for whatever happen at church the next day. I wrote her little talk based on what she told me and based on the elements of the principle that we most value in our home -- finding happiness, being healthy, living with faith.

She didn't want to practice.

Deep breath. That is fine. We'll try later, and after a lot of patience and love, she and I sat and talked after Kenna went to bed and we practice me whispering her talk in her ear while she said the words nice and loud to the "crowd." A lot of families teach kids to pray this way, but we don't tell them what to say when they pray so this whispering thing was new to her.

So we were ready.

I was excited. She didn't seem to care. I figured. I would be nervous and excited, and everything would go fine and I would beam with pride and she wouldn't care and we would go on with our Sunday.

When we got up to the microphone, she gave me this look, and I knew it was over. She was not going to do this. Not one word. Not for one second. I was sad. Did I want this for her? or Did I want this for me? I talked to her for a few minutes, and she just kept saying no. So, then i didn't know what to do. Should I read the talk for her? Should we just sit down? What was the purpose? Was it to teach the other kids in the class or to teach Quinn to teach and talk and feel good about herself? What is the consequence when she is in high school and gets to a microphone and won't talk. I was clearly taking things too far in my head. But the truth was that I had never really paid attention to how other parents reacted to this problem BECAUSE OF COURSE I HAD NO INTENTION OF THIS EVER HAPPENING TO ME/MY CHILD. Oops. I decided that putting words in her head to say is different than actually saying them for her, and I decided we would just sit down. So, I wanted to cry for my girl or for me (I can't remember, which one), and I smiled and her and said, "Ok." She went to her seat with her class, and I went to my seat with mine.

A mom in the room caught my attention and game me the most beautiful look and said, "It was good." That mom understood. My child and I -- at least me and this child -- are connected. Her pain is my pain. There is no way around it. I am just not old enough to know what I am doing. I am not real enough or big enough to soak it all in and be calm, cool and collected. But I tried.

Later a leader from the front came and asked me if Quinn would want to try again. This was genius. Quinn usually did better in round 2. She leader walked over and asked her, and I saw Quinn nod, "Yes." I assumed that question she nodded too was, "Do you want to try again when you are 12?" But I guess she actually said she would try again today. And the leader said she would go up with her and help her read her talk. Again, genius.

So, the time came, she walked up with the leader, she was scared to death, she developed a slight lisp, she tried to put her hands in her mouth, she whispered as quiet as she could, but she said EVERY word. She did it.

And, thus, she sat down and she didn't care and I was delighted and emotional and we moved on with our Sunday. She did NOT want to talk about it.

So in the end -- did I throw her to the dogs by letting someone she didn't know well enough to say no to do the dirty work? Or did I help her gain the strength and confidence that she'll want in life? And then were all my emotions about her? Or were they about me?

Parenting is tricky. That is all I have to say about that.