What are your Sundays like?!?

Unfortunately for us, Sundays (or rather Sunday mornings) seem to be rather rough in the Whitcomb home. Soon after Elliot was born, I realized the importance of getting up earlier than both kids in order to maintain some sort of self-sanity and then pretend to act like everything is normal as I walk into the church. I usually wake up extra early on Sundays to give extra time in case things happen. Michael leaves for choir practice by 8ish, so I'm left alone to fight this morning battle myself. It's so much easier when I have his help!

Emma waltzes into the auditorium- cheerfully waving and greeting everyone with a chipper "HI!" and giving away sweet hugs liberally. "Emma is the sweetest little girl I've ever seen". "Elliot is such a good baby". "What an adorable dress". "Your pigtails are soo pretty, Emma". Just some of the comments I hear in passing as I shuffle my way to the nursery with hands full of who knows what- all the important necessities I stuffed in a bag. or two or three. Little do they know the trauma that proceeded our arrival. Take this morning, for instance.

It started out pretty good. Bags were packed and placed at the door the night before. Clothes were ironed and layed out ready to go. Bottle- Check! Sippy cup- Check! I awoke with plenty of time to get all the way ready for the day before feeding Elliot and then getting Emma up. Elliot obviously didn't get the memo on that one. Michael was holding him when I got out of the shower- the little guy was wide awake and thought it was eatin' time again already. I managed to get most of the way ready before he had his meltdown. Half dressed, hair hanging in my face, no makeup on yet- I sit down to feed him, and hear Emma in her room "HELLO???!!" "MOOOOOmmmY!" Yes, child, I hear you. My multitasking mind is frustrated that nursing and doing other things at the same time is slightly difficult. Plus, my brain slows down considerably while nursing- which is disturbing because my brain is not the fastest to begin with. (does this happen to anyone else out there?)

Elliot falls asleep while eating, so I put him down to get Emma up. She is excited about going to church until she sees the dress she is going to wear. There is a first for everything and today was the first day that Emma actually CARED about what I was putting on her. and of course it had to be the day that I had coordinated everyone's clothes to match for Elliot's Baby Dedication at church.

Onward to breakfast. I didn't even bother trying to dress her before eating- hoping she would be more agreeable to the dress after getting her belly full. Fruit Loops and Juice. I proceeded to get ready the rest of the way and when I had returned, found Emma flinging her spoonfulls of milk everywhere. delightful.

I somehow managed (mostly by force) to get Emma to put her dress on. It was actually more challenging to get her dressed than to get her pigtails in straight. Although- I think she disliked both equally.

Time to get Elliot dressed. I picked him up only to realize he had wet all the way through. I just couldn't have a stinky baby being dedicated, so to the bath he went. Screaming all the way- because he though it was time to eat again.

Meanwhile, Emma has wandered through the house plotting to test her bounderies being left unsupervised. I found her sitting in the living room- with the contents of the diaper bag around her and a very guilty look on her face.

At this point, I'm wondering if I'll ever get out the door. And I just had to get a picture of them matching before we left. So I sat them down on the couch- both were perfectly fine until this point. For some reason, both began screaming simultaneously as I pulled the camera out. Here is the best shot I captured (no joke):

I got both kids in the van and was backing up out of the driveway when Emma pointed out to me that I forgot to get her doggie (it's become a close attachment of hers). So I get out of the van, run into the house frantically looking for doggie- becuase I know the day will be much better with him than without.

We arrive at church- I think I was 10 minutes late for Sunday School. Elliot is still screaming as I go to get Emma out of her seat. In the process of getting her out, my shoe's heel rammed into my big toe- breaking the nail in half. Ouch. ouch. OUCH! I grabbed the bags, Elliot in his carseat (these carseats are never easy to carry gracefully) and Emma with her doggie and sippy cup and LIMP my way into the church.

We made it.

Sometimes I question why I even bother going to church. I know so many would understand my situation of being a young mom and wouldn't think twice about me not being there. Afterall, there isn't even nursery care provided on Sunday nights or Wednesday nights, so many times I'm there, but not able to concentrate at all on what is going on in the service. I've talked with Annie and Mom Whitcomb about this a lot. I'm convinced that Satan does work extra hard trying to hinder me from doing the right thing - or more like being in the right spirit- on Sundays. I've given this much thought and concluded that there are several good reasons for me to be there- none of which are to save face.

1. God. I must demonstrate to my children the importance of prioritizing worship

by being at church. We make time to go to the park, take bike rides, go to the library,

go shopping, go to the beach, get together with friends, plan birthday parties--- we MAKE time for church.

2. Others. So many times I've sat through services and only grasped a sentence or two due to

the constant attention given to Emma and Elliot. But so many of those times, I've been able

to talk and pray with my dear sisters and brothers in Christ and have left feeling refreshed,

encouraged, loved, blessed, rebuked. I know I'd be missing a great blessing by passing up

time to interact with fellow believers.

So- at a time that would be easiest for me to have a perfectly good excuse to skip church, I choose to fight the battle each Sunday. It is well worth it. And as we dedicated ourselves publically today to raise Elliot in a godly home, it is a reminder of the importance to prioritize God in our lives over the material passing things of this world.

As Nate Saint wrote in his personal journal: "Life seems entirely too short for the accomplishment of all things to which we aspire...of love and affectionate attention...or work and duty. But God grants that each task be oiled and inspired by a proper mixture of the required and the desired- the rough and the lovely- the hurried thought and the detailed expression."

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Elliot Haddon's Baby Dedication