I don't know how Sundays work in your family but here they always seem to fall somewhere between a mad dash, sleep-deprived and rejuvenating day. It's a mad dash in the morning to first of all, wake up, and then get showered, dressed, diaper bag packed, puffs restocked, and a snack easily accessible for right after church (for Cole, not me.....although I wouldn't mind a snack.) People say a baby changes everything but little did I anticipate how much more work it would be to get everyone to church on any given Sunday. And no one ever told me the anxiety that comes with dropping your baby off in the nursery, especially when you have to peel those nubby little fingers gripping your neck and then the lower lip.....oh, that lower lip how you grip and rip my heart every.single.time. Cole never seemed to have separation anxiety, until now. And so do I.....which only amplifies the problem. Thankfully we have found a church that feeds and refreshes our weary beings, and makes missing naps, pouty lips and havoc-induced afternoons well worth it.
But it sure goes against our earthly beings.
How easy it would be to just stay in our sweats, make pancakes, put Cole down for his morning nap on time and have a happier little man the rest of the day. And in all honesty, sometime we do just that. But then I am reminded of a story my mom told me about when they had their first baby (my older brother) and how every single Sunday they would pack my brother up and listen to him scream his lungs out all the way too church and all the way back home. And then he would come down with a snotty nose, croup, and a nasty cold the week following. But did that deter them from going? No, they were determined to raise their family in a Christ-centered home, and in doing so meant not giving in to the obstacles that would make that goal seem tainted or not as important in the given moment. Thank you mom and dad for instilling in your family the importance of putting Christ first even when it clearly was not the easy route.
I have much to be thankful for.....I don't have a screamer. And while going to church throws my sweet boy off of his normal schedule and usually produces a not-so-happy-little-camper. I am confident that the the blessings will far outweigh the hassle of a kinked up schedule in the long run. Keeping that in mind makes days like yesterday a little bit more bearable.
we definitely did not have a Cole like this:
I grew weary (could also have something to do with my total lack of sleep this past week, thank you insomnia.) I stayed home from our Sunday night Bible study because my little stinker would not go down for his nap, he was cranky, I was cranky, we were cranksters and we both needed a nice long nap. But then something happened, something God knew we both needed.....a good, gut-wrenching laugh.
It all happened so innocently, I was giving Cole his evening bath and he was playing and splashing around.
I don't remember what happened, I think he made a big splash and got water everywhere to which I proclaimed-- "Whoa Jane!" And then,
Belly laughs. Head tilted back and deep from the core laughing.
Cole's response was so addicting that I kept saying "Whoa Jane!" over and over again, always producing another round of roaring laughter.
God knew we both needed that.
So we laughed our way through the rest of bath time and to my surprise the usually two-person job of getting him lotioned, diapered, and PJ'd up went so smoothly and quickly that I had him down for bed and fast asleep in record time.
Ah, my soul rejoiced! Thank you Jesus. And thank you "Jane".