Sundays are not usually an easy day for me. They are wonderful, because they are a change of pace from the normal every day, but still...if you are a Mormon mom, you might be able to understand why. My husband, instead of getting the day off work, spends all morning going to meetings or visiting with other people and trying to help them. I am so thankful he gets to, and that he cares enough to. He sets a really good example for me and the boys.
But it leaves me getting myself and three little boys ready for church, by myself. The Lord always really blesses me though and I don't miss Tyson as terribly as I used to and the kids are almost always really great, minus Caleb's millions of tiny meltdowns not wanting to get ready for church. So once the youngest to take a nap, iron their little shirts, get them all dressed, ties (or bow ties as some of them prefer) on, black socks and church shoes found and on, diaper bag packed, quiet "toys" found and packed, and any prep I need done for myself and for my lesson if I am teaching, done, I am WORN out. And church hasn't even begun.
Then there is walking our cute little brigade into church, herding them into a row and doing our best to keep them quiet and reverent for an hour or so, then send them off to their classes. The little one is still adjusting to his class and won't go without crying, a lot, and usually ends back with me. I don't know why it is so hard for that age to go to class. Their class is the coolest, they have singing time, play time, snack time and then play time again. Seriously, what is not to love? Okay, maybe the other little kids stealing the toys you want to play with might be annoying, but other than that, I wish I could be in his class. :)
But, the little guy, after the second try, actually stayed in class, HOORAY! So I was able to stay in my class, which I love. So really yesterday was not a bad day, plus I overheard (not difficult since he really isn't great at whispering in church) Josh (my oldest) tell Caleb (the middle) that he needed to be reverent and think about Jesus, because Jesus loves us. It was a small, but proud moment of my day.
However, I have a hard time seeing beyond each Sunday. It is just surviving rather than thriving. My belly is huge, my legs have this horrible throbbing pain that makes me feel like they are slowly suffocating, or that they will explode any minute from too much blood pumping through them. And after the hundredth time of saying "guys, be quiet," I guess I had begun to lose focus on why I was in church in the first place.
Then last night I went to a little meeting with the youth from my church and we had a speaker there talking about missionary work. I remembered a line from a blessing I received once about the impact I would have to young men of the world. I thought maybe I would write books for young boys, or that I would somehow work with lots of boys in a job I held. It never occurred to me that I would raise so many boys. So it was that moment, sitting there that I realized I have a wonderful chance and responsibility to teach truth to my little boys. No one in the world spends more time with them than I do. Probably ever in their lives. For some reason, that little moment of someone talking about missionaries, reminded me of a phrase, and helped open my eyes to my life and how important the work is that I am doing.
So even though some days are rough, and growing a baby is no easy task, it is all worth it. And I want my little ones to be thankful for the mom that I was and am. So here is to being a little more patient, kind, teaching, teachable, fun and loving -- to being the mom I need to be and enjoying the moments I have with my little guys.
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