Sunday’s: Sometimes They Are Just Awful. And Awfully Funny.
Church here starts at 8:30am. My husband works a shift that doesn’t allow him to attend, and so every Sabbath I drag myself out of bed very early to begin getting myself and three small children out the door. Although I have many things prepared the night before, it is inevitable that something turns this process upside down, and we barely scoot into our pew before the service starts.
This Sunday was one of those days where all three children were both irritable and needy, so as we tried to sit quietly, everyone needed to drape themselves over me or poke a sibling or talk loudly. Even when friends took Gabe, Maggie made sure it was impossible to listen to the sermons. When Gabe finally hit his limit, I took all three kids to the foyer. Yet another Sunday service abandoned by a frustrated mother.
I stood there for about thirty seconds before a familiar wave of nausea and splitting headache began. I was allergic to something in the foyer. A quick look around the room and I saw a huge floral arrangement that was left over from a funeral service that was held earlier in the week. It was emblazoned with lilies, which I am I am terribly allergic to, so I took the kids outside until the service was over.
Then I took the kids to Primary while Gabe and I went to nursery. This is my third time in four years having a nursery calling. It isn’t my favorite place to be, but there are good things about it. The noise level of a roomful of two and three year olds is not one of the good things, particularly when paired with a headache.
Gabe lasted about fifteen minutes before blowing out his diaper. When I got back from changing him he gave me just enough time to serve the children snacks and then I had to go nurse him, which put him to sleep.
As I was returning to the nursery with my arms full of sleeping baby, Maggie came crying down the hall. She was unhappy with her Sunday School class, so she came to nursery with me, where I had to focus most of my energies on her rather than on the nursery kids.
Right as church was ending, Maggie collided with her best friend and got a goose egg the size of a Cadbury Creme egg on her forehead. While I iced it down she screamed. She completely lost all control to the point where she was literally screaming the words, “I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING!!!”
She did this for over forty-five minutes. One of the doctors who attends church with us checked her out. No signs of a concussion this time (Maggie once had this exact same thing happen, except that time it knocked her unconscious and an ambulance was called. My life, it’s never boring).
Still screaming, I drove Maggie home where we continued icing her huge purple lump. While I was reaching into the fridge for something cold for her head, I somehow sliced two of my knuckles open. They bled, which made Maggie freak out even more. She screamed at me to get a band aide and leave her head alone. I kept icing her bump and opted to just bleed.
Chris should have been home at this point, but he got off work over an hour late.
I was thrashed.
Finally, everyone got reasonably calmed down. I settled into the quiet of my craft room with my head still pounding, hoping to salvage the afternoon.
It was at this point the doorbell rang.
It was the Relief Society president and her counselor with a plate of brownies. “Wow,” I thought. “Someone cares. Someone noticed what rotten day I was having and brought me brownies. How kind. How inspired. I feel so acknowledged. Wow.” I was stunned and moved. I invited them inside.
At this point in my thinking (and thank heaven I didn’t say it out loud, or break down crying from the apparent kindness of being noticed) my Relief Society president informed me that the brownies were not for me. They were out visiting inactive families and realized that my neighbor was on their list. I knew this, but it was news to them, so they wanted to ask me a little about the family before they went to introduce themselves. Uh huh.
Now, I have a very morose sense of humor. In fact I spent the rest of the day far from a pity party, laughing actually, over my misunderstanding. I’d say “Haha! Someone cares! NOT.” But that smacks of bitterness, and that wasn’t what I was feeling. It was just plain funny. (For the record, many people were kind to Maggie and I during this mess- really- I’m not feeling badly about it).
And the day did improve. I was invited to over to a friend’s house and got to enjoy the evening, so the whole day wasn’t a bust.
I’m scared just thinking about next Sunday.
Day of rest. HA!
Ok…your church experience officially makes mine look like a cake walk!! I’m THE pastor’s wife and we don’t make it to hus church often. My kids are the only small children, so there’s no nursery care. I have a 6, 5 and 3 yo. who manage to find every way to make themselves noticable. It really doesn’t help when my 3 yo son runs up the aisle while daddy’s trying to prepare Communion. Once my son drank right from the cup BEFORE everyone was served. Thank goodness everyone appreciates and loves the kids. I still feel like we’re a disruption and I guess at least I’m lucky to get the “Cliff Notes” version of each Sunday’s sermon! I just love reading your blog. It brings joy to my heart that someone else out there can relate…or at least I’m not the only one having days like that.
Comment by Dani B — September 23, 2009 @ 8:15 pm
What a day, Leah. I am so sorry but am glad that you were able to laugh about it. There are times when I wonder what I am doing at church except for the fact that I am teaching my kids that it’s where we need to be on Sunday. My husband has meetings in the morning so I am also left to get the three kids ready and to church on time and many times I am a frazzled mess by the time we finally get on our way that I am not in the best of moods when I arrive at the church. No matter how much I prepare the day before something inevitably happens that throws things for a loop. And then are the days when the kids are not behaving and my husband has to leave part-way through the meeting to go to work. Yeah, I’ve spent many a Sunday out in the foyer waiting to take the kids to their classes so that I can have a bit of a reprieve.
I do hope that next week goes better for you.
Comment by Becky Williams — September 23, 2009 @ 10:27 pm
oh. my. word. thanks for sharing! guess i don’t have it that bad!
Comment by cara — September 24, 2009 @ 4:34 am
I have just come to realize what it is about your blog that keeps me coming back. It’s your ability to tell a story. You have such a wonderful way in how you write that it makes you feel like you are right there…..in the front seat of your car…..in church, folding clothes in the laundry etc. The fact that you take fabulous photos, create amazing layouts are a bonus.
Thank you for sharing yourself with us bloggers.
Cheers, Irene
Comment by Irene — September 24, 2009 @ 4:48 am
I have often thought God must have a great sense of humor cuz on Sundays it is always the worst day and seems like the family love goes right out the window. Yet we persevere. I feel like such a hypcrite walking into church after screaming at the kids the whole car ride. teehee! keeps me prayin’ I guess.
Thank you once again for sharing your stories–good and the bad. Leah, you are such a stitch!
Comment by sandra m. — September 24, 2009 @ 5:27 am
Good grief!! I know the Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle, but maybe He could space it out a little bit? Maybe? As parents we can handle a lot more than we think we can. At the time it doesn’t seem that way, but I’m always amazed (at both my personal experiences and those of others) that a few days later most of these crazy situations will be retold with a giggle or with down-right tears in our eyes from laughing. I enjoy reading your stories so much!!! They are full of life and laughter.
Comment by Shannon — September 24, 2009 @ 5:39 am
We always had this kind of trouble, Sunday was crazy and with 8 brothers and sisters. You are a trooper.
The story of Maggie running around yelling, “I can’t stop screaming” - awesome. She has some personality, that girl. Seriously, I wish I was that creative as a kid. I just love it.
Comment by sarah — September 24, 2009 @ 4:21 pm
Oh Leah, never a dull moment *sigh*. It’s so great that you can laugh over it. Bless you my friend as you continue to know the truth the Lord has set for you - He is your strength and your portion. Amen to that.
Comment by sherri — September 24, 2009 @ 6:05 pm
LOL- humor is definitely a must-have as a mother! Way to be positive, you’re a great example, and tell you what, next time Tom is at drill and I’m dreading Sunday I’ll just think of you and buck-up! ps- I love that she was screaming “I can’t stop screaming!” Sounds like something Elena would do…
Comment by Di — September 25, 2009 @ 2:09 pm
Amen! Sunday isn’t a day of rest unless one is so sick, she can’t physically get out of bed. But then you know you’ll have to clean up the aftermath come Monday. Hang in there!
Comment by mishalee — September 26, 2009 @ 12:41 pm
It’s anything BUT…I definitely get it! It will get better… no, easier…no, DIFFERENT.
You won’t be nursing and changing diapers forever at least. You handle it well Sister K. 
Comment by amie — September 27, 2009 @ 2:31 pm