Father's Day

Father's Day. The day is not about me at all, but I still rode a rollercoaster at church, so I shall write about it. I survived! I didn't do great, but I didn't FUMBLE desperately while playing piano during sacrament meeting today like I did on Mother's Day. I had planned on taking one of Jeff's anxiety pills, but I got sick on Thursday and did not have the chance to test the possible lightheaded side effects of the pill before Sunday. I decided not to take it in order to avoid a possible fainting spell during church.

Things I did to disperse my nerves instead:

•    When we got to church 12 minutes early, I went to the primary room to play through the songs one more time. I had just finished playing them at home ten minutes prior, but home is my safe zone and practicing a more public environment under the influence of my pesky Church Nerves got some kinks out before the performance.
•        Lots of positive self-talk.
•        When my friend and her family sat down behind us in church and asked a casual "how are you?" I couldn't bring myself to answer with a generic dishonest "fine," so I expounded my anxieties to her and she was sympathetic. She may never have the fortitude to ask "how are you" to me again, because I started off with "I'll be better in three hours!" and went on from there, HAH. But it was therapeutic not to keep all of my worries completely bottled up. For some reason it helps to have someone in the room besides my husband KNOW how utterly terrifying going up front is to me.
•        ENDLESS deep breathing--it's a miracle I didn't hyperventilate!
•     I said several desperate prayers for peace and help leading up to the performance. Peace gently came to my heart, calming jumping pulse. Every time my mind wandered, the peace fled in fear, so had to pray/ask for it every five minutes straight through the meeting, but it kept coming back!

Right after the sacrament, Amber (who was sitting on my lap) said she had to go potty (a minor miracle in itself), so I dashed out with her during the youth speaker's talk, with grim visions of Amber peeing on my navy blue dress and then having to walk up in front of the ward with a big ole pee stain on my front. We walk-jogged to that bathroom at top speed! When we got back 3-4 minutes later, the youth speaker was long done (!) and the primary kids were mostly assembled on the stand. I had to power walk to our pew, grab my music, and quickly walk up front, pausing at the chorister to ask him which song we were singing first. The young men and young women were also up front to sing with the primary kids, so I had to really squeeze my way through the crowd to reach the piano. 

Deep breaths. 

Arrange the bench.

Sit down. 

Deep breath. 

Slide cold shaky sweaty fingers onto keys. 

Wrong note.

Pause.

Deep breath. 

Hmm...do I play the entire song through or just part of it? I opted for the entire song to give everyone time to get settled, then launched into the song again and the singing began! I'm so glad when Daddy comes home should always be sung by kids ages 3 all the way up to 18. It is excellent with teenagers involved. I think the 17 year old boys actually blew "a great big kiss" to the congregation, but I could be wrong--I was experiencing mild tunnel vision at that point, just me, the piano keys, and the music.

Thankfully the chorister stood up so I could see him conduct this time, not that I had too many opportunities to glance away from my music (tunnel vision), but still. It helped. I felt shaky but not that ultra-panicky feeling that I was dreading--just a moderate version of it, closer to Church Nerves than full-on Performance Panic. My anxiety did kind of build the longer I played up front, but the songs were just barely bearable enough and well-practiced enough that I was able to hang on to the end. It was close though. I played Daddy's Homecoming ("I'm so glad when Daddy comes home"), then the Our Bishop song ("he's the father of our ward"), and then it was over! 

There was a second musical number after the next speaker, made up of seven men singing a dramatic arrangement of How Great Thou Art. It was beautiful. I love it when men sing LOUD, in tune, and in harmony with each other. These guys did it all. Direct hymns of praise bring the spirit so fast and strong. 

And the two speakers around the musical numbers gave heartfelt, personalized talks that weren't specifically about fathers, but left me feeling immensely grateful for my own dad and my husband, as well as humbled by the enormous blessing that they are to me. It was all extremely well done.

For Father's day, the primary kids all had their classes during the second hour and then were all together in a big group for singing time during the third hour of church. So I was a free woman for the middle hour of church--no piano! Time to recoup some of my shattered nerves and gear up for the next meeting! Jeff generously offered to let me accompany him to his 16-18 year old Sunday school class, but I decided that gospel doctrine with the grownups was mildly less intimidating than facing 12 teenagers. It was a close call, but I was nurturing my nerves here, so I had to go as easy on them as possible. I buckled on my courage and went to gospel doctrine class (studying the Old Testament this year--eek!). The only open chairs when I arrived were on the front row. I couldn't face sitting front and center, so I sat on the side-front next to a kind grandmotherly lady whose name I remembered, as I was happy to discover. 

The kind grandmotherly lady to her left handed me her paper with a question on it that the teacher had given her, asking me if I would answer it instead because she didn't know the answer. I took the paper with a tentative/joking "well if you don't know the answer, I doubt I do!" I haven't spent any serious time in the Old Testament since high school seminary class. As I read the question about Saul and Samuel, my old friends the Church Nerves quaked back into gear again. Why can't I just not get nervous? I guess for the same reason I can't "just not" be six feet tall. It's a Shaina attribute. I should add it to my list: Nerves of Jell-O. 

Thankfully, the Gospel doctrine teacher overheard our exchange about not knowing the answer and she graciously helped me out when it was time to answer the tough question. I even managed to contribute a tiny little bit to the answer, whew. Then something crazy happened halfway through the lesson: I raised my hand and answered a question!! I don't know what got into me, honestly, (reckless abandon? giddy post-piano aftermath? overwrought nerves? death wish?) I am finding that if any thought comes to me during a church lesson, I must raise my hand immediately or else I will talk myself out of saying it to the class every single time. So without thinking any further, I popped my hand into the air and talked briefly about how Saul's wrong action wasn't the real problem; it was the attitude behind his action, since everything done in the Old Testament is symbolic anyways. That sudden insight left me feeling slightly fake because I had absolutely nothing else to contribute for the rest of the lesson. I sat in mild shock that I had managed to open my mouth in front of 30 adults not once, but twice! Maybe there is something to be said about sitting on the front row. Due to my primary pianist responsibilities, I probably won't have the opportunity to attend adult Sunday school for another year, so I guess I made it count today!

Right after the closing prayer of Sunday school, I jumped up and power walked to the primary room, where I played prelude until opening exercises and sharing time. For the last half hour of church, all of the primary kids went over to the gym to meet up with all of the men from priesthood plus the teenagers, for a combined singing time father's day game show. It was a fun activity, as long as I didn't think too hard about the fact that the entire ward (minus the 30-ish relief society sisters) was in the gym singing while I played! Thankfully the piano was:

•      much nicer than the piano in the primary room--it played so smooth and dreamy, it was love at first note!
•      facing away from the audience, so I could not see the massive crowd sitting behind me while I played. Even though I could hear their many combined voices while they sang, it still made a difference not to be able to SEE anyone. I am ridiculous, I know. But the illusion of anonymity is often just as effective as the actuality.

So there you have it. Church on Father's Day. Jeff bore the brunt of Amber's pummeling during sacrament meeting, which was not ideal, but she chose him this week and we know not to cross swords with Amber on trivial matters like whose lap she sits on and mangles during church.

Now for the after church stuff: we had a quiet afternoon at home together with the crock pot simmering, then at 5:30pm Dan and Leslie (Jeff's parents) came over for dinner. I encouraged Jeff to trace his hand on a card for his dad, which he did with great results. We had BBQ pork sandwiches, coleslaw, and watermelon on the font porch, and I even made dessert: brownies and ice cream. It was a nice calm family gathering. After dinner Jeff took us all into the playroom and we had a song-boxing competition on his VR headset that left us all breathless, laughing, and slightly sweaty. Hugs all around! Bye bye grandparents, bedtime for the kids.

Happy Father's Day.

I wanted these pictures to have better color/white balance and framing and posing, but we had about 3 minutes before we left for church, so we did the quick front-of-the-house snapshot. Jay told me that he told himself jokes in his head to make himself laugh and do a "real smile."

I told Jay to write Jeff a letter for Father's Day, and the boy proved once again his way with words: "To Daddy. I love you because you are my dad and the greatest man in the world to me. I love talking with you and paying games with you. I hope you have a happy father's day. With love from Jay"

Rose's Father's Day art was colorful and prolific, as always. [Jeff and Rose under a rainbow together.]

Sweet Rosie. I traced Amber's hands and she scribbled all over them for her contribution to the homemade father's day cards. I didn't get a picture of it though.

Our new family tradition: how long will Jeff be able to pick up all three of his children? It gets harder every year. The first time we did this Father's Day pose was five years ago with little Jay and little Rose. Then we missed a few years, and began it again last year. This year was tricky, but Jeff prevailed.

My heart in a picture.