Good parents take their children out.
No, I don’t mean like the way a bully punches his fist into his open palm and growls, “I’m gonna take you out!” I mean, taking your kids to family functions, fun events, and, heck, even Walmart.
Sometimes I’m afraid to take them out. We’ve had… experiences. But that’s a post for another day.
I’m always envious of those parents who walk around not sprinkled with powder formula or baby’s latest snack while they cavort with their well-dressed-Baby-Gap children. My family looks more like a herd of rabid bison.
Never seen one? Me neither, but I bet that gave you a nice mental image, huh?
I felt like we weren’t too far from that tonight as my husband and I bravely ventured to take the kids to a revival.
Now, it’s a funny thing. I actually gave my husband aka TheBaldEagle 24-hours-notice that we would be going to this revival. So, when I walked into my home, I somehow thought that I would arrive home to some semblance of… readiness?
Yeah. Ha ha. No. Just no.
The good news is, at least he fed them.
I was quite proud of myself that I was able to inhale supper and throw outfits on myself and all 4 kids (And they matched, too! Go figure! The pants and shirts, that is. The kids didn’t match each other.) and STILL get there early. We sat in our pew. TheWiseOne and Z-boy played quietly while TheLittlePrince drove his Matchbox car along the pew. Even K-Girl sat on my lap quietly without slapping mommy!
For five seconds, I thought I was going to get to be one of those families. The elite. The put-together.
I’m not really sure what happened because time moves at a different pace when you’re a parent. It’s either painfully slow: ie, your toddler is throwing a tantrum in the middle of the checkout and the person in front of you is an extreme couponer and does not agree with the cashier’s total. Or it’s ridiculously fast: ie, the weather is coming on the radio and suddenly little Johnny wants to tell you about why his underwear would make a great sailboat and BAM–you missed the weather announcement.
Yeah. I think I experienced both this evening.
I wanted so much for my husband to enjoy the service like I had the day before, but there’s only one of me and four them. I was outnumbered. But I think he at least enjoyed it a little. I think there was a smile in there. Somewhere.
Truthfully, the service was wonderful. And I learned a lot. Not just about the sermon, but about my kids:
1) K-baby can pitch a bottle across the church like no other. Future softball player! Yeah!
2) Z-boy can apparently fart on command.
3) TheLittlePrince is not fond of loud pianos, but is not afraid to tell me–rather loudly–that he wants to go home.
4) K-baby can lead a mass game of peek-a-boo with several pews behind her.
5) Markers can roll very far on a wood floor.
6) Children are very good at coloring with markers. On everything. And themselves.
7) Babies think markers are delicious.
Someday… someday… I will look back and laugh, right?