Sunday

I've known many mothers, and even fathers, that have had the same thoughts as I when it comes to getting young kids ready for church. Sunday is the most chaotic day of my week. It's not like I have something hard to accomplish....oh yes I do. Getting kids to church.
In the morning, I get up, race through breakfast, beg the girls to get dressed and ready, and then wrestle, literally wrestle, the boys into their clothes. In the midst of the chaos of complaint girls, pouting boys, and a dog who doesn't want to be left behind, I start running a obstacle course marathon from one end to the other of the house, trying to successfully beat the clock and be at church on time. Somewhere in there, I miraculously don on my own Sunday clothes, slap on some makeup, throw my hair up because there's no time to do anything with it at all and grab the bag of random stuff to keep my kids quiet during the meeting and hustle everyone out the door, leaving the dog behind, whining in his cage about the unfairness of being stuck at home.
  As soon as I get there, I'm hustling kids to their various classes, only to collapse on the couch in the foyer and catch a breath. There really is no point in going to class. Once I sit my butt in a chair, the baby will squeal and wiggle and want to run. So we wait in the foyer. I'm doing the class a service because if I let the baby cry, they wouldn't be able to hear. So really, I'm just being a kind friend. I can hear the bits and pieces of the lesson over baby talk from the couch.
  First hour passes, second goes by. Is there really a point to going? By now, it's naptime, and the squealing has increased to a fussy scream and mainly a time for J to throw himself on the floor. Aa few moms will join me at this point. Our church foyer is baby central.
   Our third hour is the main service all together. My kids are hungry, the baby is restless, at this point L is cranky from being tired and sitting still. Today particularly, we sat in front of our friends, and behind our other friends. The friends behind us, entertained the baby as much as they could until their mom shushed them. In front of us, was L's little girlfriend and the two of them shared snacks and then rolled under the bench, laughing and talking to her. Reverence doesn't happen with little ones.
Sometime in the middle of the meeting, J decided to have a hollering match with his cousin across the isle. Eventually, daddy took him out because he was walking down the isle and stopping to say hi to each person. I inherited the job of getting L to settle down, and the girls both started whining about wanting candy or something to eat because they are starving.
  I'm not sure what was said during church, I'm sure it was wonderful. Most Sundays I wonder why I'm even there. I spend three hours struggling with kids, and I get nothing out of it. Except I do. I'm teaching my kids obedience by example. We need to go to church and letting hardships stop us doesn't show obedience. I, as a mother, am in charge of  teaching my children. It would be easier to stay home, but that would teach my kids that church isn't important when the kids don't behave. They will learn to sit still as they grow and someday I'll be able to hear some great messages. But for now, I'll just be sitting in the back entertaining babies.