Sunday, September 24, 2017

Church Saga: In three parts.

Hour 1.

Since Evan was born I’ve very quickly realized we’re in the just trying to be faithful category and less of the learning and retention category.

1pm church is not for the weak. 

We prepare like we’re about to play the Super Bowl. We know he isn’t going to get an afternoon nap. So we push off his morning nap as long as possible so maybe he could just have one big nap? Right. The diaper bag is loaded and could feed a third world country. 

Snacks. Toys. Diapers. Bottles. The whole shebang. 

But we know. We know no amount of preparation is going to stop it from being a brawl for three hours. 

Harmless, right? What could one little person pull off?




It really is like trying to hold a tornado. No matter what direction you’re holding him, he wants to look the other direction. He scored perfect 10s in arched back, dive bombing today. 

I tweeted this as we were walking into church today. 

Do you ever look at your baby as your walking into church and see the fire in their eyes? Me too. He has an agenda. I know it.


I knew he was going to take this round. 

As we were sitting in the metal chairs we let Evan crawl around on the floor. It starts with him poking his head through the hole in the seat in front of us. No matter how many times he does this, he is always shocked when his big melon head gets stuck. 

Then someone walks out. 

Evan’s head whips around like a hawk and sees his target. He takes off full crawling sprint to the outside. Thankfully he’s not strong enough to push open the door. Despite pulling himself up and slapping it. So he’s back to crawling and realizes he’s hit the open field and takes off for the back of the gym. 

Oh yeah, this is while they’re passing the sacrament so it’s superrr quiet. So I climb over Scott in heels and swoop in and pick up Evan and walk to the back of the gym. After Evan has made it really clear he will not be held I put him down like an idiot. Within five seconds he eats it and hits his head on the floor loudly and lets out a huge scream. So I scoop him up and bolt for the door. Just trying to get out. 

Only I threw the door open and hit an old man like a linebacker. 

So immediately I start apologizing, but Evan’s screaming and we gotta go. (Thankfully he said it hit his hand and he was just fine. Oops.) 

We settle down and after the sacrament is over we head back in. We play for a few minutes and Scott takes Evan out to change his diaper. 

We’ve made it 37 minutes. 

They came back in and we start to relax. We’re playing toys, we’re having a snack, it’s okay. 

10 minutes to go and we are in total meltdown mode. I have unstuck Evan from the chair in front of us for the 957th time and we’re in trouble. Scott frantically starts to make the bottle while I hold Evan and bounce him. I grab the bottle and a burp cloth and my phone in case I need to text Scott. Leaving the sacred diaper bag of truth and light. 

We make it to the Mother’s Lounge and have the room to ourselves. He drinks about 4oz and decides it’s time to explore. So I let him and just sit for a minute. There’s a full length mirror in there and he pulls himself up so he can slap it and talk to himself. His favorite. Totally normal. 

Until he projectile vomits all over the mirror, himself, and the floor. But the diaper bag is in the chapel and I’m not going back for it and leaving this mess. Cleaned it all up with paper towels and by then he starts making his pooping sounds. I figure he’s pooped and by then Sacrament is over so I go back to meet Scott and get the diaper bag. I change him (no poop! It was a fakeout!) and Scott heads to his meeting. 

Hour 2.

Being the FAITHFUL MOTHER I AM. I attempt Sunday School. I sit down next to my friend who offers to scoot down a chair in case we needed more space. 

“It’s really okay, I give us 30 seconds before we have to leave. We’re just trying to be faithful, not really here for retention.” 

We made it five minutes. 

Out in the hall with another head bonk. 


Evan’s favorite thing right now is to hold my hands and walk/run as fast as he can. In heels and 96% humidity I am bent in half letting him walk us all over the building. 

We walk laps for the rest of the hour. Because being picked up has resulted in more arching of the back and a well placed throat punch. He’s got a plan. He’s got places to see. He doesn’t want to be held. 

Hour 3. 

I meet up with Scott and say maybe we need to call it. He’s exhausted. 

Scott volunteers to take Evan to his class and if it’s a disaster we’ll call it. 

I enjoy my class and as we’re getting ready to say the closing prayer I notice Scott and Evan in the window of the doorway. 

Scott has a look on his face of do not talk to anyone and get in the car. We gotta move.

I get to Scott and he informs me that Evan has unloaded in his diaper and there are no more diapers in the diaper bag. 

Hour 4.

FOURTH QUARTER FOURTH QUARTER FOURTH QUARTER 

We hustle to the car and wrestle the belligerent octopus into the car seat. 

The humidity. The smell. 

But then we start to relax on the drive. 

Scott offers to take the diaper and I check on dinner. 


JESS WE HAVE A SITUATION!! 

So I go into the living room. 

We’re talking neck. Up to his neck. 

It’s carpet so Scott puts what he’s got from the diaper on the Sunday newspaper like a puppy. 

And I call it. 

I just grab Evan by the armpits and march him upstairs to the tub. 

But now we need to wrestle his Sunday shirt off of him. That’s covered. Covered. 

I’m so glad I insisted on the Oxford shirt onesie that’s so hard to get on and off. 

In the wrestle to get the shirt off Evan pees on me. And the bathroom rugs. 

And I busted up laughing. We both did. It really was a hysterical mess. I have zero expectations that a 10month old can sit quietly for three hours, but today was really a prime performance. 

Two bathwater changes later we had ourselves a clean bean and a running washing machine. And all was right in the world.

(He looks sweet, but I know he saves his blowouts for church. He has his entire life. All day Saturday I try and get him to go. Sunday morning comes. Nothing. I know its coming. It's going to happen at church. And he's sooo proud of himself. I'm on to your little game meatball.) 


We’re all looking forward to General Conference next week and church at home. 


The funniest part of the whole thing was after everything was cleaned up we high fived and complimented each other on how well we handled the day and the situation. 




I think he won this round 😂. 





3 comments:

BLOG TEMPLATE BY DESIGNER BLOGS