Get Me (and my four children) to the Church on Time…

When I asked my hubby if he wanted to join us for church a few weeks back, he saw the writing on the wall. My hubby is a smart man.

So it was Sunday morning, my husband had to work, and I was having a serious case of cabin fever. (I just don’t get out that much anymore…I wonder why???). I decided that we all needed to go to church. Lord knows (yes He does) that I am in need of some spiritual guidance to help me deal with my four children. So off we go.

We were not off to a stellar start when I asked the older kids to get ready on their own and my youngest son shows up in camos, hunting cap and rifle in hand. While I’m trying to wrangle the clothes off of him and hide his gun, Baby J decides to vomit all over her cute new dress (oh why do I bother?). Now trying to get Baby J cleaned off, I spend the next ten minutes arguing with my other son about why he can’t bring his collection of Ben 10 Aliens to Sunday School. We haven’t even left the house.

Twenty minutes (and two and a half hours) later, I have everyone loaded, buckled and strapped down in the family wagon. And guess what? We are running late. Who could have predicted that one…

So by the time I unload the car, corral the kids and lug the ever so heavy car seat (someone needs to invent a much lighter one…I will be at the chiropractor for the rest of my life, but I digress…) and get all the kids to their respective classes (our church is rather large, so of course, they are all on different floors…) I decide to brave it and take Baby J with me to Sunday School because I didn’t want to waste anymore time trying to take her to the nursery.

Big mistake. HUGE.

Of course, while the Lord knew I needed to hear his voice, Baby J decided I needed to hear hers more. Almost from the minute I walked in to class, she decides to scream. So I missed the entire gosh darn lesson while I paced the halls with my sweet Baby J. By the time I got her calmed down (with the help of my dear friend Nancy), it was all over. But I did manage to grab a donut (hey, it’s the little things).

While I was pacing, I happened to notice a little boy wandering the halls all by himself. Then I noticed that little boy belonged to me. Now mind you, this is a very big church. He had decided that he didn’t want to be in church anymore, so he just up and left. Seriously. And he was wearing a large alien looking watch. Which wasn’t his. So after he got in trouble for going AWOL, we had to track down the owner of this watch that he just happened to “borrow” without the little boy knowing it. (Aren’t we supposed to learn this stuff in church??)

So now we are off to pick up my other son. Who was also nowhere to be found. (Mind you, I am lugging a very fussy baby in the growing heavier by the minute car seat). Their class was deserted and I was told that they were going to sing in (as my kids call it) Big Church. Okay, so this was news to me.

By the time I tracked down the choir, I was informed that my son refused to put on a robe (what a shocker) and didn’t want to participate. So then, where the heck did he go? No one quite knew the answer to that question.

More walking. Big church was starting, and I hadn’t even picked up my other daughter yet. My sis-in-law had a sighting. He was sitting with some lady in Big Church. Seriously again. How do you lose two kids in church?

By the time we picked up my other daughter, she was near tears as she thought we left her. At least she stayed put unlike my two darling boys.

Two hours later, a weary mom with no spiritual enlightment shows up at the house. The husband smiles knowingly, but refrains from saying “I told you so.”

Did I mention that my hubby is a smart man

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About marniefernandez

Official kid wrangler of four. Step mom, adoptive mom & bio mom. City girl turned country bumpkin. Small town girl next door married to Hollywood sniper/moto-cross/ninja architect. Career girl turned stay-at-home mom with baby on hip. Permanent taxi-cab driver, schedule organizer and professional laundress. (When not chasing kids...) Mommy blogger, columnist, travel writer and consultant. And no, I don't sleep. And yes, I take Prozac. And drink wine from sippy cups.

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