The Trenkle Life

Faith was baptized last month. This is super common for eight year old Mormon kids all around the world. Most kids enjoy having a day when they are the center of attention and everyone celebrates them.

Not my daughter.

Faith was born as a bundle of nerves. She over thinks everything and then her brain regresses to what I call animal mode. My smart, funny, reasonable child turns into a primitive, impulsive, non-caring that everyone is watching you freak out wild-animal. (A therapist I work with said it has to do with the limbic part of the brain taking over. Makes sense to me.)

Cue the baptism.

Faith was showing a little bit of nervousness as we traveled to the church but it went over the top when she saw Eddie’s entire basketball team pull up to be there for her baptism. When I made it into the primary room, someone (who was it? Eddie, Mom?) told me Faith was behind the piano, lying on the floor.

Yeah. She was.

I “helped” her off of the floor and into the dressing room where she proceeded to lock me out of the changing stall as she told me she wasn’t going out there.

Deep breath. Everyone out there is out there to see Faith. So without her, there’s really no reason to have an “out there.”

I somehow talk her into unlocking the door and we say a prayer together that she won’t be so nervous and she will feel the love of everyone there to see her.

She seems calmer.

Phew! We’re making progress.

I offer to help her change into her white baptism clothes. (It’s a white polyester jumper that is very common when people get baptized.)

Refusal.

“I’ll look dumb in that.”

After some explaining that this what everyone wears and she won’t look dumb and it will be fine, I finally offer to go get Daddy (since he will be in the water baptizing her and will be wearing the same thing) so she can see he doesn’t look dumb.

I go back into the meeting room and everyone looks excited that we might actually get started. Since Faith isn’t actually with me and we won’t be starting, I smile sheepishly and motion to Eddie that I need him. NOW.

Eddie enters the Women’s bathroom and Faith has again locked the stall.

“Faithy, daddy’s here. He’s wearing the same thing and it’s great.”

From behind the stall door:

“He looks dumb. I’m not wearing that.”

Deep breath.

You know when your kids are driving you crazy (CRAZY!!!!) and you want to lose it on them and punish them and take away their birthdays? I was almost there. But since this was supposed to be a spiritual evening full of happiness and love, I took another (and another) deep breath.

Over the next few moments Daddy suggested that we look in the closet for something else for her to wear that wouldn’t look so “dumb”

We found a dress that was so very 80’s-licious. Dropped waist, lace ruffles on the skirt, a bow right below the hip on the front.

It was perfect for her. (although a little short)

We finally get the show on the road about 10-15 minutes late. But really, it was amazing it was happening at all. She sat on Eddie lap the whole time with her face buried in his neck while I gave a fabulous talk about baptism that I wrote on the car ride to the church. (That’s how I roll.) Meanwhile, one of my other children was lying on the floor in the front of the room. He’s six. I know, I should stop procreating.

We head to the font where the action actually happens- the dunking under the water, the cleansing of the sins, the covenant.

Faith won’t get in. She stands at the top of the steps with her feet dug into the ground reminding me much of a Mastiff I once saw at the vet’s office trying to not get out of his owner’s car.

Long story short, I kinda pushed her down the steps into the font. Not really pushed, more just took her arm and gave her a guiding nudge.

She’s dunked and comes out drenched and as I’m helping her change out of her awesome retro dress (oh ya, remember that bow? She tied it to the back, it was awesome) my six year old niece Matti tells her, “See Faith, it’s not that bad.” Cracked me up.

After changing, she was then confirmed. Traditionally the person in the middle of the circle shakes hand with all those that stood around them.

Once again, not Faith. She simply stood up and walked to her chair, leaving our bishop with his outstretched hand just hanging.

Deep breath, not quite as deep though.

We made it through. It wasn’t pretty but it was Faith’s style. Despite the laying on the floor, locking the door, and the nudge into the font, it was a wonderful evening. There were several people and events that made it great; my parents, my mother-in-law and niece and my friend Yasmin were there to be with us along with Eddie’s team and friends from our ward. My brother Clinton even completely surprised us that afternoon by showing up on my doorstep. He said he was in the neighborhood, except he lives in Salt Lake. During my mother-in-law’s talk my niece raised her hand to make a comment. That child has no fear and I think she truly felt the spirit and was touched.

After our souls had been fed, (and my patience tested to the limit) we fed our bodies with Chinese food. As I tucked my baby girl into bed that night I was overcome with love and gratitude for her. I am a lucky woman to have her as my daughter.