Mad Season

My trip to church on Sunday went something like this:

I woke up at 5:00 with Eddie. He went back to sleep, I couldn't, so I listened to him breathe and dozed on and off until 7:00. I woke up, but the kitchen was such a mess and the dishes were piled so high that I couldn't make the coffee. So I spent 30 minutes emptying and reloading (always a little depressing) the dishwasher and scrubbing pots. Eventually I made the coffee and got Annie, my niece Alli, and DJ their milk and breakfast. Things were going smoothly, we'd all woken up plenty early for a 9:30 service, etc., etc. But by the time everyone was dressed, hair brushed, diapers changed, babies nursed, makeup applied, diaper bag packed, and favorite stuffed animals located, it was 9:30, and we were late.

We rolled into the parking lot (slowly, because the van is making terrible noises with every left turn) at 9:40. Dad went to take DJ to his class, I got seats with the girls. I sang half a song, but Alli was throwing her stuffed dog high in the air and banked her head on the pew. During the announcements, the girls opened the hymnals and loudly pretended to sing the songs. DJ and my dad returned around 9:45. He had refused to go in the nursery, saying "I need-a mine-a mom, weewy (really) bad!" So there we all were. Eddie started fussing in his car seat, so we shuffled around so I could take him out and hold him. One more song, and it was time for the girls to go to Sunday school. The sermon started, and Eddie pooped very loudly--as in, it was most definitely audible to everyone in our section. People chuckled. He started getting upset. It was one of those situations where I had to get out as soon as possible before he really started to wail...but because I also had to take DJ with me [C'mon DJ! No, keep walking. You have to keep going! All the way to the door! Please DJ, just keep walking. I can't carry you, I have to carry Eddie. C'mon, please keep walking!]...I didn't make it. Crying infant, whining toddler, quiet church. Stopped for a drink at the drinking fountain [I need-a some water, weewy bad!] and went to the bathroom to change Eddie and help DJ go potty. We ducked into the cry room where I fed Eddie while I half listened to the sermon, half told knock-knock jokes with DJ. As I packed up the diaper bag, I saw people getting up through the one-way window and realized the service was over.

I had to go back in the sanctuary to get the car seat, and started talking to the pastor's wife. I relayed some of this story, and she reminded me that it's just the season we're in. And she's right. I know she's right, because as I wrote this I remembered a friend's blog post--one of my favorites--with a very similar story, and now her kids are so big! And I'll bet they sit quietly in church without climbing around on the pews. And they're long out of diapers, and they need their mom but in different ways, and they dress themselves and buckle their own seat belts and aren't afraid of public toilets that automatically flush. I know I should appreciate all these moments with a light heart and misty eyes, because they're fleeting. And I do, kind of.

But it still made me think of Matchbox 20, because this is a mad season, indeed.