This may be the meanest thing we've ever done to our children... and the best

This morning when Stone heard it was Sunday he came into our room and said "I HATE CHURCH." I hear this every Sunday so I answered calmly "I hear you, Stone. I know it's hard for you." (Non-Mormon readers may not be aware that church is three hours long for us: one hour of worship with sermons and hymns and prayers, etc, and then an hour of Sunday School and an hour of other children's songs and activities while adults go to their classes). Stone has such a hard time holding still for any reason (except to read or snuggle, thank goodness), and since his one Sunday School friend Vaughn moved away he has been in outright rebellion. He marched over to our bed, picked up my pillow - first he made sure it was mine and not Erik's, I suppose because he knows I'm not picky about what happens to my pillow - and said "Pretend this pillow is church." I said "ok" and watched him punch and pound and stomp on it. He wasn't yelling or crying or seeming very angry - he just wanted me to know how he felt, I think, because he watched me to make sure I was looking and then said emphatically "That pillow is BORING. And that means CHURCH is boring," and then walked away.

So now add to this feeling attending church in a foreign language!! Yay!!! And not knowing anyone!!! We showed up to the Children's classes and were greeted by an absolutely angelic Primary President, and everyone we met was as sweet as could be. Lindsay and Lucy understood quite well and with just a little encouragement introduced themselves in front of the group of kids. Sophie understood less... and Stone had a really hard time. I stayed with Sophie and Erik stayed with Stone, and as I sat in that sweltering room with a very sweet but not super engaging teacher, I had a few thoughts:

-This is not fun.

-I can understand everything the teacher is saying but I bet Sophie is getting about 5%. This is SO much faster than the Spanish she heard in Kindergarten and a totally different accent, AND one additional grammatical element (vosotros) that is only used in Spain.

-I remember being in Chile understanding about 5% of what was said to me and feeling so frustrated. I was 21 and I remember crying.

-This room is hot and this teacher is boring, even understanding her.

-What if the children go to school tomorrow and their teachers are hard to understand, or they are mean, and no one talks to them and they hate it?

Then as I let all of that sink in, I thought a few things:

-I am proud that I pushed through the tears at age 21 and became fluent in a foreign language.
There was no shortcut (and if there had been, I would not have the same joy in the accomplishment).

-The kids will need to know how to handle experiences that are not fun. In high school and in college and at jobs they will sit in hot, stuffy rooms with boring teachers or employers who are hard to understand. Bring on the preparation! I can give them a head start on developing strategies for those situations!

-If the teachers are mean or the kids are mean, what a great opportunity to learn how to deal with mean people! They will certainly not be the last mean people my kids ever meet.

-You can do anything for four months.

-We live in a world (and particularly a state) where we constantly see people from foreign countries struggling with English. If we gain nothing else from this experience, we at least gain empathy. My children will now know what it feels like to be the new kid, not only out of the comfort zone but off of the comfort planet! It is so scary to go to a foreign country and so humbling to try to say something you're not sure how to say. I told my children that they have an obligation for the rest of their lives to be the one to put their arm around foreigners, greet them with a smile, encourage their efforts. It takes so much courage to leave your home country and learn a new way of life.

This is the pep talk I gave myself. Oh, and Stone also said to me today "You said this was going to be an adventure. This is NOT the kind of adventure I was planning on. This is scary and I don't know anyone!"

They'll thank us some day. (I hope!)

We celebrated the last weekend of Summer with a horse and buggy ride around the city. Erik gave them each a father's blessing of courage, comfort, intelligence and kindness, and tomorrow morning they pack their backpacks and we all walk them to school.

Wish us luck!