A Sunday Story

When Hannah was born, she and I didn’t go to church until she was about three weeks old (I think, maybe even longer than that) because I just felt so wiped out and not sure how to wrangle the three of us into the right place at the right time. This time around, I really feel pretty good – moderately tired and mildly overwhelmed, but good overall, so I thought it would be lame of me to skip church. I must admit that I was a little afraid of how we’d manage with both kids in service (I will pause here so that mamas of more than two can laugh their heads off at me!).

To make a long and frustrating story short, somehow we managed to get both kids and ourselves fed, clean, dressed and into the car, and we were only a few minutes late. Of course, at our church, being a few minutes late means there are no more aisle seats and you have to sit in the way back in the uncomfortable chairs right by the air conditioner, but nevertheless, there we were. During the service, Josh and I took turns holding the children, walking with them in the back when they fussed, and trying to prevent bedlam. I was happy that Hannah was reasonably well behaved during the sermon (I take her into the nursing mother’s room during the sermon because it’s sort of sound proof but you can watch the service through the one way windows and hear the audio piped in – that’s where we work on skills like sitting still and being quiet) so I was able to take notes.

So much for making the story short, eh?

Anyway, I’m glad that I overcame my fear of taking both kids to church, and I would like to pause here to give mad props to parents of more than two kids, because those logistics must really take it out of you!

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