My Pew on Sunday

Getting ready for church is pretty exciting. And by exciting, I mean stressful.

I usually sleep in, waking up at 7 or 8. Kind of depressing that sleeping in until a normal wakeup time is sleeping in, nonetheless, it is. Somehow that extra hour or two of sleeping for me puts me behind. 

Panic. Must clean the children so I can get them dressed.

I have decided the best way to bathe the children is to put them in and out of the shower one after the other. Bathing them on Saturday causes them to play in the dirt or smear ketchup all over their faces and they are dirty again, so it has to be Sunday morning if I want clean children for church. It also has to be AFTER they eat breakfast. After. 

Then I get them dressed. This seems like a simple task, but somehow it isn't. My 2nd child is never happy with the dress I've found for her.  She has an alternative, but somehow it is too short even though I just bought it last month. We argue about it. We both hold our ground. Ian has to referee these often volatile interactions. 

"Where are your shoes?" This question is asked many times throughout the morning to all of my children. Followed by, "You can't wear flip-flops to church."

Then I do hair. Hopefully we make it to this step. Sometimes we don't. My 8 year old wants the quickest hair-do possible. She says,"I want a ponytail." Every day. It is the fastest. My 6 year old wants curls, but I usually don't have time to do it, so we do what we can. My 3 year old doesn't want her hair done at all, but then she does, but not like that, and it ends in a hair pulling ending in some pigtails that she will inevitably pull out in the car.

Get some snacks into the church bag-don't forget diapers. Put something into the crockpot. Get self ready. 

Now where are my shoes? 

We finally get to church. We try to get there early every week, and we are usually cruising into the parking lot 2 minutes before we need to be seated. It is a frantic rush to the frontish row pew that is open. If we are late we have to sit on the hard seats in the overflow. I despise sitting in the hard seats in the overflow. Being late is unacceptable.

Then church starts. My three year old is already stirring the pot. Stealing the snacks, coloring on her older sisters coloring books, screaming about how she wants to take her shoes off, and then go the bathroom, and how she's thirsty. My one year old is trying to rip the pages out of the hymn books and run through the aisles.  My older girls are doing well, but they are in a constant fight with the younger children, and they forget to whisper. 

The sacrament trays are passed and my younger children think it is an all you can eat bread buffet. It is a race to see which of us can reach the tray first. I am trying to keep them quiet. It is a huge challenge during these few minutes. It isn't the reflective time that it once was pre-children, but I try to get a few spiritual thoughts in right here. I usually have the words to the Primary Song,"It shouldn't be hard to sit very still, and think about Jesus, his cross on the hill. And all that he suffered and died for me. It shouldn't be hard to sit quietly."  But then it is kind of ironic, because it is actually very hard to sit still and think. I also think of the song,"Create a pure heart within me Oh God and renew a right spirit within me. Show to me my weakness and humble my heart, that I may be purified before thee." When I have it together, I have some pictures to show my children of Jesus to help them think about how we can be forgiven.

I usually get to listen to a snippet from each talk in between a diaper change, a couple of potty breaks, and a few tantrums from the little ones who should really be taking naps. Last week the speakers talked about their experiences on the hand cart trek where the youth dressed in old timey clothes and walked some trails that the Mormon Pioneers who trecked sometimes from arriving on boats coming from England, sometimes converts who joined in New England area. The youth in our area had people that they walked for, and they learned about that person and the hardships they had in their conversion and trekking experiences. It is a really awesome thing that connects current youth with the heartache, challenges, and conversion of people over a hundred years ago. I love hearing about their experiences. Something about the act of walking with other people, and being outside in the sunshine and elements, and connecting with history is meaningful.

Through it all I am usually prepping my singing time for the next couple of hours. I am the Primary Chorister right now, and I require last minute panic to come up with all of my best ideas. I hope to become more organized. Someday. But, that is also happening during that hour and fifteen minutes in my pew. 

To add a little more crazy, sometimes Ian is playing the organ. Not usually, though. He is only a substitute. But, he loves it so much. He sits on his organ bench and plays the hymns while the crazy is happening down below.  His little baby boy is always trying to run up to him and play the piano with his daddy like he does at home. It is adorable. And crazy.

When it is all over, there are crayons scattered, and papers from the crayons that my girls are always peeling off even though I ask them not to. There are  a couple mutinous cheerios or chocolate puffs depending on the cereal I brought on the floor. I try to get them picked up quickly and then I rush off to chat with my friends on the way down the hall. I drop my littles off at the nursery and my baby boy cries his brains out for me.  Then it is show time.

Primary baby! I love those kids.

So even though I think sacrament meeting is a little crazy, I am glad I go. I appreciate the kind smiles from the older couples whose children are grown, and the teenage girls who step in and sit with my sometimes parentless older children because Ian is out with the crying big baby and I am out with the screaming toddler. I like the chance I have to hear those few sentences that come into my conscience through the chaos. I feel like I am surrounded by friends, and we are all in this together.