Friends Who Rock

Wednesday night Ryan went out to watch the UNC-Duke basketball game with a friend (they were supposed to actually go to the game, but unfortunately, our friend's roommate decided that instead of just giving his tickets to his good buddy, he would sell them for hundreds of $$$). Anyway, he was out really late so what did I do? I went on a blog-reading bender and caught up on the happenings of some of my dearest friends. WOW. I can't believe what talented, funny, and creative friends I have. I just wish more of them lived closer to us!!! (Our Raleigh friends are also talented, funny and creative.)

I just have to put in a plug for my friend Ally Condie who, in addition to raising two adorable little boys, is churning out books at a head-spinning rate. On Wednesday night I read an excerpt from her latest book, The Moms' Club Diaries, a compilation of stories about motherhood, which convinced me that I needed to go right out and buy it, which I did (online, since it was midnight). This is the excerpt, written by another great friend, Josie Lauritsen Lee. I loved it because I can just hear Josie tell this story in her own voice. It made me miss her so much. So I called her this morning in London, but she wasn't home (sigh).

The Right Fit by Josie L. Lee
Had I been interviewed for a position as a Mormon mother before my son was born, I might have made it through a couple of rounds. But in the end, despite my book-filled hours of preparation, my application would have been rejected because of “motivational fit”—a term I used frequently in one of my pre-parenthood jobs. As part of this job, I conducted behavior-based interviews with candidates looking for employment with our company. I would ask these candidates a series of questions designed to gauge their experience and proficiency across a range of competencies related to the open position (for example, teamwork, leadership, ability to multi-task and handle stress). Interestingly, candidates could score highly across the target areas and still not be hired because they were not the right “motivational fit.” In other words, their personalities and aspirations were not cut out for the job, regardless of their skill sets.
Since, for a variety of reasons, I was not cut out for a position in Mormon Motherdom (or so I thought) I contemplated parenthood somewhat reluctantly. When Noah was born, however, I was overwhelmed by how much I unexpectedly adored him, and I entered motherhood like a lovesick bull in a china shop. No finesse. No technique. Just freehand gung ho. I happily, if clumsily, assumed the necessary tasks and roles of motherhood, hoping the animal-instinct love in my gut would cover for my lack of fit. I didn’t know what I was doing, but even heaven could not help anyone who messed with my boy.
As time passed, I began to feel more at ease in my new role. Somewhere in the hours of gazing at my baby and kissing his toes, the issue of motivational fit became irrelevant. Still, I was not fully comfortable in my new role as a Mormon mom, and there were moments when my inner china shop bull reared her ugly head. Unfortunately, at least one of these moments occurred in public.
It was a (dare I re-live this in print?) family home evening exchange—an ingenious invention unofficially introduced into the Church no doubt by an achieving mother of eight with a perfect motivational fit score. As the idea goes, a group of ten parents get together and exchange family home evening lessons they have prepared and copied for each member of the group. At the end of the exchange, all the parents walk away with instructions and materials for ten lessons to share with their families. In our stake, these exchanges had been going on for some time among the women, but I had never participated. I had no artistic skills or child development expertise to offer the group, and though I really liked the idea in theory, it required a little too much organization and attention to detail for my taste. Since family home evening in my childhood home never involved plans or visual aids, preparing a reproducible lesson didn’t feel like something I was cut out for. This time, however, a dear friend of mine, whose mothering I greatly admired, persuaded me to participate in the exchange. She assured me that whatever I produced would be acceptable for the group. Forgetting my friend was not aware of the depth of my incompetence, I foolishly believed her and signed up.This particular exchange was headed up by a young mother in our ward with a formidable motivational fit profile. During the months preceding the actual exchange, she organized several groups of ten mothers, no member of which would repeat a lesson topic. She compiled email lists, organized spreadsheets and kept us all informed of our collective progress with commanding precision. I was impressed with her logistical management, but I was confused as to why people needed so much time and information to prepare. My all-heart, no-skill approach to parenting only required a few minutes to cobble together a family home evening lesson while clearing Monday’s dinner dishes. Still, I took the cues from our fearless leader (“Only a month left until the exchange, Ladies!”) and decided to ramp up....

That's all Ally had on her blog, so I guess I'll have to wait to see what happens. I can't wait to get the book in the mail!