Flailing

That's my self-descriptive word for the past while.  FLAILING.  Sounds kind of like failing, but not as harsh.

I am constantly going, giving the best energy I can muster, pushing my mental and physical capacities to the limit, but still not achieving the fabulous end-result I desire.  Swinging wildly, struggling uselessly.  Flailing.

(I borrowed some of Lexee's photography for depiction, since I don't actually take pictures of myself flailing.)

The good thing about what I believe is, things will get better.  I guess that's why I am constantly telling myself things like, "Once I get done with [this, that and the other], everything will settle down, and life will be organized and smooth again."  The funny thing I've come to realize (through YEARS of re-occurrences) is that something else always comes up and takes the place of the previous task or event.  That's why I don't know why I even think the word "again."

I don't think I've ever achieved my vision of:

cleanliness,

organization,

personal study and growth,

relaxation and entertainment,

dinner-on-the-table-every-night-at-5:30,

all-supportive mother,

best wife in the world,

looking fabulous for my age (which, I am reminded constantly, is ever-increasing).

Yesterday was a day that brought the flailing to the forefront.  I was recently called to be the Ward Music Chairperson.  I actually thought, when the calling was extended, PERFECT.  I've done it before, so it shouldn't be too difficult or time consuming, which is just what I need right now.  Then I was bombarded by two well-meaning, extremely musical ladies in my ward (one of which is the Stake Music Chairperson) who planted on me all of their expectations.  We need more special musical numbers.  We need more people in the choir.  We need better hymn selection.  We need to assist the priesthood and auxiliary groups with all their musical needs.  We need better accompanists.  We need more participation in the Stake choirs.  On and on and on.  All followed by, "We're so glad you were called, you're just the person to get it all done."  Ha.
Don't they know I'm flailing?

So I arranged for a special musical number for Sunday, quite by luck.  As I was expressing my anxiety about my new calling to my dear friend Julie, she said her daughters had asked to sing in Sacrament meeting, and she would be happy to sing with them.  Awesome.  She let me know what song they would be singing, and I confirmed the date with her.  Perfect.

Saturday, as I was out running important errands with my dear friend Steph (a 30% off friends and family weekend coupon at Old Navy and Gap IS important), I realized that I had not let the sister that prints the program know about the special musical number.  I quickly made a call to her home, left a message on her voice mail, then called around for her cell number, just to make sure the message was received.  After talking with her, I felt relief that I had not completely forgotten to contact her and get the musical number in the program.

I spent Sunday morning trying to firm up the song I was requested to help the YW learn for Young Women in Excellence.  I had listened and pondered all week what would be the best song to use (still feeling pressure from those ultra-musical ladies who BOTH have daughters in YW).  After a few calls to the YW leaders in charge, I selected the song, downloaded it on my ipod, and printed the music.  I barely made it to our 12:30 Sacrament meeting, moments to spare.  As I settled in by Bill (pleasant surprise to have him there in between all his church meetings), I noticed that there was a REST HYMN on the board up front with the hymn #'s.  I panicked.  I looked at the bulletin.  The special musical number was listed.  I realized that I had not told the bishopric OR the chorister about the change in program.  Oops.  I quickly wrote a note, and walked it up to the bishopric during the opening song.  FLAILING.

During the 3-hour block at church I was asked to head up the decorations for the ward adult Christmas party (I declined the "heading up" part, but agreed to assist), and teach in Relief Society in a couple of weeks (which I accepted).  I wanted to say, "Don't you know I'm flailing?"  I also went into YWs (which still felt like home, even nearly 2 years later), introduced the song to the girls, and had them run through it a couple of times.  I asked for soloists, and had 3 girls approach me after church, wanting to participate.  Awesome.

One of these days, I will have it together.  I just know it.