The Puddles

Yes. My children are all trying to conspire against me to fall back on my Lenten goal of being more positive, serene, and less anxious.  The day started good.  The children were dressed and ready to go with church bags in hand on time this morning.  We made it through Sunday School.  And then it happened.  “What happened?” you ask.  Everything. . .   Drama. Suspense.  Intrigue.  It was all there in church this morning.

First, Madie.  In the midst of getting seated, Madie started to ask me a question.  I automatically replied, “No.”  I figured it was the safe answer.  Come to find out she had wanted to sit with a new friend.  When I finally get myself seated, I see that she is rather sad and forlorn, so I ask her what is wrong.  She says that someone in Sunday school made fun of her.  The boy (of course it had to be a boy!) told her that she had purple hair.  Someone sitting near me asked what was wrong with Madie.  I relayed the story and this person told me that she was perfectly content before worship started.  Which meant that probably what Madie was more upset about was me telling her no.  Wow.  An eight year old is complicated.  So I relented on the seating arrangement and life seemed to be moving forward.  Then there was Ainsley.

Ainsley (remember the cute four year old who loves to be loved and rotates between various laps during worship to fulfill all of her cuddling needs on Sunday) asked to also sit with Madie and Ben with their new friends.  When she went back there something happened.  She comes back to me with her head held low dragging her church bag on the floor beside her.  She looked up to me with her sad puppy dog eyes and told me that wanted to sit back with me.  This is a very unusual move for Ainsley.  This never happens.  I mean NEVER happens!  She drops her bag to the floor and flings herself into my lap.  (All of this was done with the flourish of a silent move actress.)  She informs me in my ear that there was not enough room back there for her (Yes, there was.)  and that there were too many toys (No there wasn’t.) and that nobody wanted to play Barbie with her (she never asked anyone!).  So I gave her lots of cuddles this morning during worship.  Until Ben happened.

Ben. Ben has been very boy lately. Today was no exception.  He asked me during worship if he could go to the bathroom.  I said yes.  Thinking that Ben would return at any moment I didn’t worry.  When the sermon finished, no Ben.  When offering was taken, no Ben.  When communion started, no Ben.  Now I am worried.  Where is Ben?  First of all, we sit in the front row.  My mother always taught me that you DO NOT LEAVE during worship.  Hold it until it is over.  It was bad enough I let the six year go to the bathroom by himself at church.  Now I am thinking . . .  Who has him?  He had better hurry up.  Is he ok?  I am going to kill him.  Is he kidnapped? Where is he????  Always being a good Lutheran, I went forward and received communion and then promptly marched myself outside to look for him.  Where was he you might ask? . . . In the church nursery (but not really because he set his chair outside of the room in order to watch tv but still not be in the nursery.).  First, there was a major sigh of relief.  Second, I pulled him outside and told him that he was NEVER allowed to do that again.  We marched back to church.  Once inside Ben asked me if he can please go sit with his friend again.  I tell him, “Yes.  This is your last ounce of freedom today so you had better enjoy it while you can.”  It is a good thing that flogging is not allowed in church.  It saved Ben today.

So I am trying to be that peaceful presence in my children’s lives.  I need worship on Sunday to help me recenter and refocus my thoughts onto Christ and my family.  How can I do that when I spend the entire worship time putting out fires amongst my children?  And yet worship did just that.  It wasn’t the worship itself today that did it (Sorry, honey!) but the people.  The joyous throng of individuals and families who came to worship today who said hi to the kids.  Gave them pats on the back.  Thanked them for being there. Who helped Ainlsey put a puzzle together with another young child after church was over and I was trying get all of stuff together. Who asked Madie to stop and twirl so she could see how pretty Madie looked in her dress.  Who let Ben sit in the nursery (but yet not in the nursery) eventhough he is technically too old to be there.  They fill up my children’s soul when I cannot.

So I failed my serenity test today.  Not so good.  Someone pointed out that it is not Lent yet, so I am still ok and that I can just chalk this up to a practice run.  I think that I will take that.  I am still a work in progress. Even God got angry and blew up (remember Noah!).  I will just continue to work on being that peaceful presence in my children’s lives.  Starting now.