You know that joke about getting upset before church...how the dad about blows a gasket, the mom shrieks to everyone, "Just shut up and get dressed so we can go to CHURCH and learn about the LOVE of JESUS!" And we all laugh at the joke because it's so true!
Sometimes that's just how it is.
I got up first this morning, which is usually a good sign that we'll be on time. I was out and dressed in time to get the boys dressed before breakfast. Everything is going well so far! Jon heads off to church early.
Breakfast is done, and no one ruined their church clothes with food! All right, Caleb spills milk on his shirt, but I figure it'll dry by church time. I excuse Caleb and set James down to play while I dry my hair and get my makeup on. Occasionally I check on them, or listen for the telltale "quiet" that means they're doing something they shouldn't. I pick out a nail polish color so I can wear sandals with my dress.
Somewhere between foundation and eye shadow, Caleb says he needs to go potty. Fine by me. He's big enough to do that himself. I meander towards his bathroom, though, because he's finally (finally!) not using the toddler potty seat, and I wanted to make sure all would go well. I find him struggling with his pants, and then he realizes he waited too late. He couldn't hold it any longer. I dash in and get him over the potty, but it's futile. Pants, undies, socks. All need changed. Might as well change the milk-spotted shirt, too. In my mind, I knock out my two-coat pedicure and decide I can still throw on one coat of polish and be okay.
I pull out the clothes he will need (which he can put on by himself), finish my makeup quickly, and head over to find James. He seems fine. But then I notice a nice spot of spitup on the rug. There's a telltale piece of construction paper that James found, and which evidently he tried to eat, which caused him to gag and spit up. Nice.
I head to the utility room to grab cleaner. Caleb comes out of his room triumphantly: "Mommy, I did it!! I got my undies on all by myself!!"
"Hooray for Caleb" (while inwardly I give an exasperated sigh) "Now see if you can get your pants on, too!"
Rug clean, I decide I might as well change that suspicious-smelling diaper of James's, since we're getting awfully close to church time. I also admit defeat regarding the polish, and pick out a pair of closed-toe shoes.
When I get in the boys' room, Caleb is still only in his undies. He's "building something" for me. James resists his diaper change, insisting on rolling and twisting, throwing his clothes to the floor, grabbing the lamp, the diaper, whatever he can find.
It's crunch time. Or Mama Snaps time, however you want to put it.
"NO James! NO! Caleb, get. your. clothes. on. now. It's time to GO. James! STOP IT. UGHHH! Y'all are DRIVING ME CRAZY this morning!"
I stretch the diaper into place, fetch James's pants from where he threw them, and yank Caleb's clothes on. I plop James in the walker and run and grab my jewelry and a sweater, make a bottle and a cup for the boys, and find my Bible and the boys' church bag. Then I scoop up James, recover the sock and shoe he pulled off, grab Caleb's hand, and we finally make it out the door.
Last night I prayed that I would enter church with the expectation of worship.
This morning I was just thankful to enter church.
This morning was a little crazier than most...but not by too much! My older child likes to la-dee-da through life (I have no idea where he gets that from), and my younger is trying to exercise some independence in the world. So it just happens. And it doesn't really bother me too much, except in the moment, and on those days where I'd really like to get where I'm going on time. My crazy mornings remind me of my creative first-born, and my second-born heading into the terrible twos in a very "typically-developing" way. I am thankful for these things! God has blessed me in so many ways!