A Weekly Reminder

Sundays and our services act as a weekly reminder. I know you're all hoping for some inspiring spiritual message. Some might be expecting a commentary on a deep doctrinal gospel topic or a narrative focusing on my recent enlightenment. Well, I've been enlightened all right. . .but probably not in the way you all might expect. You will recall that after over 10 years of attending singles wards, I recently (the last six months) made the move to our family ward. I can't tell you how much I love it. I love the meetings. I love the people. I love the spirit of our ward. It has been a great experience. It has also been an eye-opening one. You see--I'm finally beginning to understand from whence that glazed (I'm going to lose it any minute) look of motherhood comes. Its origins are apparent through the course of our 3 hour meetings. It starts with the process of readying the troops for Sabbath presentation. It comes from the weeping and wailing just outside the nursery doors. It continues when you are hunted down because your 3 year old has a poopy diaper. Shoot--Sarah forgot to tell you that she has a talk in primary today. At some point you realize that your skirt is sticking to the chair--perfect--a blog of grape jelly on your butt & your scriptures are now decorated with an inspired crayon. After battling through Sunday School with a wiggly 1 year old, you've undoubtedly exposed yourself because your skirt has been scootching up and your shirt scootching down. You don't really care. The real challenge comes with having Sacrament meeting last. Who would do such a thing to an innocent & exhausted parent? The once perfectly placed hair of your children is now in complete disarray. You don't care. You can't remember the last time you sat next to your spouse & you know the only thing keeping you from complete mutiny within the ranks is a tupperware container of Cheerios that you considered eating in RS because you skipped breakfast to hem your husband's pants. After another hour of threatening, praying, deep breathing, and endless distraction, you realize you can't remember anything said--BUT you are grateful. Grateful to have survived another Sunday. . .and wondering who the girl on the back row is & why she's laughing.