My Mormon-Mommy Life--without the Downeast Outfitters Shirt

I think this is my pet peeve.  People, both non Mormon and Mormon alike, criticizing our "Mormon Culture" because we always seem so happy.  There has been much analysis and debate over why Mormons are so happy, particularly their women, who don't swear, bake cakes and babies from scratch, and always have a wreath with lots of tulle around it.  The synthesis has ranged from hypothesizing that we are always happy because we are told to be happy, or that we feel pressured to be plastic-y happy, and that we are brainwashed and we are not really happy.  The underlying assumption of all this is that it has to be fake, because no real person in real life can ever be that happy.  I've even read recently that if life is hard, Mormons are told that it's our fault because we haven't been obedient and faithful enough, so we need to feel better, causing incredible amounts of guilt.  Tell that to Job.

I guess the reason that I get so annoyed is because when people say these things, it sends the message that my way of life is a huge Stepford deception with lots of bad self-esteem.  Well.  It's simply not true.

Has it ever occurred to anyone that Mormons are happy because we love life?  And guess what?  My life isn't any easier than someone else's life that isn't Mormon.  When you love your life, you are happy, even if crappy things happen, which, let's face it, kids, crap happens.  To EVERYONE.

I will say this, though.  I believe I am happy because I love my life.  I believe I love my life, because as a member of the Gospel, I am constantly reminded that everything that is good in my life comes from my Heavenly Father.  In this case, I didn't build that.  God did.  And I am every day so grateful for what God has built and given me.  I think it is my religion and the Gospel of Jesus Christ that helps me recognize these gifts (a.k.a blessings), and with the realization of the many things I have, I have come to realize that

1. Heavenly Father thinks I'm worth giving things to.  And he's perfect, right? So he can't be wrong about that one.  I must be pretty awesome.

2. Being the perfect parent, Heavenly Father gives me things that I need, that are good for me, and that are safe.  Is it fun?  No.

Ask Alice and she'll tell you that it's a lot more fun to jump up and down in the car while the car is in motion than being strapped down.  And it's a lot more fun to sit on Daddy's lap and drive around the parking lot (don't ask) than it is to sit in the back.  But are these things good for her?  No.  Are they safe for her?  No.  And because I am a grown up, and I realize these things, and I love Alice unlike I have loved anyone else, I give her rules and guidelines to keep her safe.  And a car seat.  Alice cries, throws a fit, and asks why.  She makes promises that she'll be good and do everything I say.  She tells me I'm not fair.  She tells me that she hates me.  She tells me she's sorry and she won't be naughty anymore.  And then she throws another tantrum.  But I don't give in.  Why?  Because I am her parent, and I know what will keep her safe.

I believe Heavenly Father is the parent that's just trying to keep his tantrum-throwing children safe and, in the long run, happy. Once you realize that everything, the fair and the not fair, is to keep us safe and whole and happy, it's a lot easier to deal with.

3. My unhappiness or crappiness in life isn't because I'm not good enough.  It's because life sucks.  It really does.  And it has to suck.  Otherwise, if you didn't have sucky times, you would never realize how good the un-sucky times truly are.  Let me elucidate:

When Joe and I got married, we had two incomes.  I was a beginning teacher, so I made about 25,000 - 30,000 a year.  It's not much by yourself, but when you combine that with a 50,000 salary, well...pre-kids we were pretty happy and a little reckless with our money.  Don't get me wrong, we didn't buy things we couldn't afford.  We never used credit, but we bought a lot of things we didn't need.  Well, after I had Daisy (my second baby), I knew I couldn't go back to work.  That baby looked at me the day she was born and smiled.  I would send her to the nursery every night so I could have some time alone, but she would not have it.  It never failed--they would bring her back around 3:00 in the morning, saying that they couldn't get her to calm down.  I would pick up that Daisy baby, and she would stop.  She would go to sleep, and I would sleep with her the rest of the night.  I couldn't leave her.  And I couldn't leave Alice. With that decision, we lost the 35,000 I was making at the time.  Along with my quitting, Joe had to find a different job because we were nervous about the straight-commission world of auto collision repair.  He found another job--for 25,000 dollars less a year.  We went from 80,000 a year  to 25,000 a year with two kids and no insurance.

It has taken us a year to figure out how to budget, how to make do, and how to save.  I don't wear real clothes anymore because I have gained weight to have babies and can't afford to buy nice clothes.  It's hard to diet when your family's meals usually include ground hamburger, mac & cheese, and frozen corn.  It's not fair that I can't put my girls in dance classes like I want to, or that I can't buy that new pair of shoes I really want (only 25.00).  It's not fair that Joe doesn't get to go fishing or shooting like he loves to do.  And there are some nights when I see another neighbor with a another new car that I go into my room and cry, because we used to make ALL THAT MONEY, and I would give anything to have even half of that back.

But then, and this is the cool part, I start thinking, someday, we will have it back. And do you know what?  We will appreciate it.  We will want to help young families who are struggling, just as so many have helped us.  We will be smarter about it.  And we will be one hundred million times happier then than we ever were before, because we will recognize what we will have because once upon a time, we didn't have.

And, on top of that, I will be able to say that I watched my babies grow.  Not only did I watch, but I was there and I helped.  None of our financial difficulties are the result of our disobedience or our unfaithfulness.  In fact, these problems came when we decided to be obedient and follow the teachings of the Gospel.  It might be cause for resentment, but it's not.  It's really a validation and a peace.  It's kind of like the Lord telling me that yeah, it's hard, but someday...  And sometimes, knowing that, is all that gets me through the day.

4. I take anti-depressants.  I know. Another Mormon-Mommy statistic that proves we're not all as happy as we claim.  First of all, nu-uh.  If we're all hepped up an happy pills, how can we not be happy?  All joking aside, I take anti-depressants because I have inherited an inclination to depression, especially post-partum depression.  It is not proof that I find myself falling short of the "perfection model" that all Mormon Mommies are said to aspire.  In fact, I was so worried that I would be another example of unhappy Mormons, that it took me ten months after my daughter was born to realize something had to change.  I decided that I needed to see someone after I yelled at my Bishop right before our Christmas choir program, and then yelled at the first counselor in the Bishopric right after.  I feel that, besides it being hereditary, my depression stemmed from unrealistic "perfection" expectations I put on myself--I needed to be 100% mom and 100% teacher, and 100% choir director. I was demanding 300% when I only had 100 to give.

You might say, well, those expectations were engrained in you by your church.

 No.

In fact, I would say that I got those ideas listening to other women, powerful women, women of the world, telling me that I could have it all.  I could be the professional and have a family, and I could make it, because I was woman, hear me roar. It's just that someone--Hilary Clinton, Oprah, or someone-- forgot to tell me that I was also human and couldn't give more than I had.  No one told me that it was the far safer and happier path to choose one thing and work hard so I could feel successful instead of doing fifty things and settling with mediocrity.

In those difficult months, before I finally visited the doctor and sobbed on his chair, the only time I truly felt good about myself was when I went to church and listened to lessons about the simplistic beauty of the Gospel, the love Heavenly Father had for me, and the encouragement from other sisters who were in the same boat.  In this case, the church didn't cause my depression.  It helped my family survive my depression by giving me a weekly reminder that I wasn't perfect, but if I was trying, it was good enough.

I can't speak for all women of the world, or for all the Mormon Mommies.  All I can say is that everyone experiences crap in their lives.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  Crap happens.  Just the color and the smell are different for everyone.

The bottom line is this: Mormons don't pretend to be happy just because we feel societal or cultural pressures to be so.  Ask my bishop: I certainly don't pretend to be happy if I'm not.  Mormon women aren't secretly depressed because of an inane desire to be perfect.

We are happy because we find joy in the fact that Heavenly Father loves us enough to give us stuff like jobs and food and people we love. We are happy because we realize that we don't always know what's good for us, and we have someone watching to keep us safe.  We are happy because we understand what happiness looks like and we can appreciate it, because we've experienced unhappiness many, many times.

 It's so much easier to bear your burdens when the Savior has taken them away from you.  It's so much easier to feel like everything is going to be okay when you're tenderly cradled in the very capable arms of our Redeemer.  So, we do what we must--yes, we silly Mormon women are obedient and have faith-- to live life in the strength of His arms and the easy grasp of His hands.

And in case you didn't know, being in the arms of your Big Brother is alway a happy place to be.

P.S.  As for the Downeast Outfitters style choice.  I have no explanation.  That may, indeed, be a cultural thing.