And The Point Would Be?

So the past few Sundays have kind of, well, sucked.

Have you ever tried to take two very small children to church and enjoy it?  I’m beginning to think it isn’t possible without some kind of help.  And by help I mean drugs.  Happy pills and speed for the parents and Benadryl for the children. 

Today Chris woke up sick.  So I decided to leave Jonas home with him and just take Maggie to church.  Then the guilt set in.  I really ought to take Jonas to his nursey class.  He is getting so used to it, and he loves the interaction and he is learning little gospel tidbits that re-enforce what we are teaching him at home.  So I figured that I would just skip the first meeting and only go to the second two where a nursery is provided.  There is no point in taking both Jonas and Maggie to sacrament meeting because I know I would spend the hour chasing Jonas around the foyer trying not to drop Maggie or trip because I’m wearing a skirt. 

We got there in time to drop Jonas off and go to Sunday School.  Our Sunday school teacher has missed the entire concept of class.  It is meant to be a discussion, not a lecture.  And if it must be a lecture, for some reason I will never understand, it needs to be an interesting lecture, not the slow mumbo-jumbo ramblings of the overzealous teacher.  If I wanted to listen to a boring lecture I would attend a Catholic mass, and I would go to the Latin only mass- because, folks, I’d get the same amount out of it.  Maggie usually spares me from Sunday School by needing to eat.  Today she just wasn’t hungry yet.  I had fed her right before we arrived, so she should be good until after church was over.  I sat there for about a half an hour before I finally stood up and walked out to the hall with her, pretending that she needed me to walk around. 

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