In my little world there is no sadness quite like Sunday morning sadness. This is the sadness that starts on Saturday night when I know that Sunday is coming. I know that Sunday morning will bring a rush to get everyone ready for church, fed, and out the door without upsetting Ian. We need a morning with no normal sibling fights or aggravations--no arguing about breakfast--and no Mum or Dad having to enforce any time out.
This is so that we can get in the car and get to church without already having an upset and on edge little boy. We need to not forget to bring his blanket (God forbid we ever lose that thing), his helicopter (the one we just bought that is the exact toy as the one he is OBSESSED with at church), his bottle (yes, he's 3, but still has to have a bottle at church), and the diaper bag. Pull-ups for us on Sunday mornings just in case.
Then we get to church and have to wait around 30 minutes for the service to start. Some days this is a good time of Ian sitting with Mum and Sissy--just hanging out, having fun, and enjoying people who come by. But more days than not--this is about Mum trying to keep a hold of Ian who wants to run off somewhere. Hoping no one he doesn't know will talk to him because then he will scream something like "No, go away," or just actually shove them. Mum laughs it off with the people and says something like "be friendly." Some days it involves Ian running off upstairs, down the front, or out the door and we have to race around frantically to find him. All the while dealing with the stairs of disproving people who wonder why their pastor adopted this kid or maybe they even imagine we are bad parents and it's our faults he is the way he is.
This morning was no different. Dad decided for some reason to make a totally different breakfast than usual which sent the whole family into a tizz. Ian wouldn't eat anything. Sissy has been in a mood for 2 days--that 4 year old moodiness--bless her. So she was fussing. Sometimes I think she just gets plain tired of Ian getting so much attention. Mum was grumpy--that never helps. Ian hit Sissy in the head with his helicopter. Sissy had diarrhea from her tummy medicine--still trying to unconstipate this girl (4 years into it--she's on special prescription heavy duty meds from the doctor).
Finally get out the door and I ask Dad if he will be charge of Ian today. I know this is a risk, but I desperately want to spend one Sunday morning in church. It's been months since I have been able to do that. Dad moans and groans. I tell him off and say "just once it would be nice if you would say--'okay, honey, you deserve a chance to worship today.'" Then he repeats what I wanted to hear and it warms my heart. We get to church and it's not too bad. Ian is calm. He hangs out with me while we walk around--we're good as long as no one talks to us. Sissy is off with Auntie Anne who is playing the organ this morning. She's so sweet--she just stands there nicely next to the organ.
Church starts and the singing is good. Ian is singing. Dad then tries to take the kids out to Sunday School early because the worship leader has screwed up children's time. That would have been fine but Ian has seen his FAVOURITE girl and she is down in the front. What does Dad do? He lets Ian run off down the front to be with Katherine (aged 10 years). By this time I am really peeved off. We will never get Ian to come back and he is all the way down in the front. It's okay for about 2 minutes. The Sunday School helper (that I don't like) comes to tell me she's put Sissy in the creche, because Dad had just left her in the Sunday School room. Meanwhile we are still trying to watch Ian--who is now bouncing around the stage while his Sunday School teacher's husband tries to catch him. I tell Dad to go get him. He says, "Katherine is there." I say (loudly!) "Ian is not Katherine's responsibility!" Luckily the old ladies around us just laughed.
About that time I realize there is a newcomer's lunch after church and lunch for the GLS (Global Leadership Summit) volunteers--Dad is in charge of GLS this year. This means he will have to stay until 1 pm or so. If we all stayed--that would make it a 4.5-5 hour morning for Ian. He can't do that. And it's already clear that this is not going to be an easy Sunday. So, I run off to ask my friend to make sure Sissy gets to Sunday School while Dad brings Ian and I home. We share a car--so it's not like I can just leave when I need to.
And here I am--again. Stuck at home with my son. No communion for me--again. No worship. I don't know if I am complaining or whining or what. But I'm tired. I'm tired of missing out. I'm tired of Ian missing out. I'm tired of disapproving looks from idiots. I'm tired of being the one who is constantly in charge of my son. I feel like there is no where to ask for help and that the only helpful things will come from me--my attitude, my extra work getting ready, my giving in to being in charge of Ian every Sunday, my giving up, blah, blah, blah. I guess that's the truth of it.
How will I turn Sunday morning Sad into Sunday morning Glad?
This is so that we can get in the car and get to church without already having an upset and on edge little boy. We need to not forget to bring his blanket (God forbid we ever lose that thing), his helicopter (the one we just bought that is the exact toy as the one he is OBSESSED with at church), his bottle (yes, he's 3, but still has to have a bottle at church), and the diaper bag. Pull-ups for us on Sunday mornings just in case.
Then we get to church and have to wait around 30 minutes for the service to start. Some days this is a good time of Ian sitting with Mum and Sissy--just hanging out, having fun, and enjoying people who come by. But more days than not--this is about Mum trying to keep a hold of Ian who wants to run off somewhere. Hoping no one he doesn't know will talk to him because then he will scream something like "No, go away," or just actually shove them. Mum laughs it off with the people and says something like "be friendly." Some days it involves Ian running off upstairs, down the front, or out the door and we have to race around frantically to find him. All the while dealing with the stairs of disproving people who wonder why their pastor adopted this kid or maybe they even imagine we are bad parents and it's our faults he is the way he is.
This morning was no different. Dad decided for some reason to make a totally different breakfast than usual which sent the whole family into a tizz. Ian wouldn't eat anything. Sissy has been in a mood for 2 days--that 4 year old moodiness--bless her. So she was fussing. Sometimes I think she just gets plain tired of Ian getting so much attention. Mum was grumpy--that never helps. Ian hit Sissy in the head with his helicopter. Sissy had diarrhea from her tummy medicine--still trying to unconstipate this girl (4 years into it--she's on special prescription heavy duty meds from the doctor).
Finally get out the door and I ask Dad if he will be charge of Ian today. I know this is a risk, but I desperately want to spend one Sunday morning in church. It's been months since I have been able to do that. Dad moans and groans. I tell him off and say "just once it would be nice if you would say--'okay, honey, you deserve a chance to worship today.'" Then he repeats what I wanted to hear and it warms my heart. We get to church and it's not too bad. Ian is calm. He hangs out with me while we walk around--we're good as long as no one talks to us. Sissy is off with Auntie Anne who is playing the organ this morning. She's so sweet--she just stands there nicely next to the organ.
Church starts and the singing is good. Ian is singing. Dad then tries to take the kids out to Sunday School early because the worship leader has screwed up children's time. That would have been fine but Ian has seen his FAVOURITE girl and she is down in the front. What does Dad do? He lets Ian run off down the front to be with Katherine (aged 10 years). By this time I am really peeved off. We will never get Ian to come back and he is all the way down in the front. It's okay for about 2 minutes. The Sunday School helper (that I don't like) comes to tell me she's put Sissy in the creche, because Dad had just left her in the Sunday School room. Meanwhile we are still trying to watch Ian--who is now bouncing around the stage while his Sunday School teacher's husband tries to catch him. I tell Dad to go get him. He says, "Katherine is there." I say (loudly!) "Ian is not Katherine's responsibility!" Luckily the old ladies around us just laughed.
About that time I realize there is a newcomer's lunch after church and lunch for the GLS (Global Leadership Summit) volunteers--Dad is in charge of GLS this year. This means he will have to stay until 1 pm or so. If we all stayed--that would make it a 4.5-5 hour morning for Ian. He can't do that. And it's already clear that this is not going to be an easy Sunday. So, I run off to ask my friend to make sure Sissy gets to Sunday School while Dad brings Ian and I home. We share a car--so it's not like I can just leave when I need to.
And here I am--again. Stuck at home with my son. No communion for me--again. No worship. I don't know if I am complaining or whining or what. But I'm tired. I'm tired of missing out. I'm tired of Ian missing out. I'm tired of disapproving looks from idiots. I'm tired of being the one who is constantly in charge of my son. I feel like there is no where to ask for help and that the only helpful things will come from me--my attitude, my extra work getting ready, my giving in to being in charge of Ian every Sunday, my giving up, blah, blah, blah. I guess that's the truth of it.
How will I turn Sunday morning Sad into Sunday morning Glad?
Ok, Bonnie. Breathe. Have a hug. Or two. ♥♥♥
ReplyDeleteNow, dry them tears. You are home. It is peaceful. There is no stress. You have the Lord all to yourself. Go pour a shot of grape juice. Find a cracker. Now read that bit in John or Luke about my body being given up for you. In reverence accept what Christ has offered for you.
Sweetie, you need to find a different way to worship, if only temporarily because you can't keep stressing this way. It is not good. We have no *rights*. Sorry. Ain't gonna happen in this life. But you can make something sweet & worshipful for yourself at home. I know what Paul says about corporate worship but sometimes mums have to think outside the box. Will pray about this for you. God bless, hun.
E~mail me if you like. I may have some ideas for you & Ian at home.
Oh, I understand the looks from people. There are a few parents in our church that has kids that are mentally much younger. We ALL have a respect for them and understand when things happen. Sometimes they shout out in church or run off. These kids are often give extra time to be able to stay in nursery. We have nursery for kids under 3 but often these kids get to stay in longer since it's too hard for them to sit in church. Also, another blessing of children's church. Parents get to have a break. My other longing I've had is a crying room where parents can go but still see the service. Some churches have it where it's just a mirror that separates it and you can see out while your kids play. No one can see in the room. You can still worship and hear what's going on. I would LOVE for my church to do that.
ReplyDeleteBonnie, one thing I have noticed with these kids in my church is it's always hard for them when the kids are your kid's age. But as they get older they learn how to sit down more and stay still. It'll come.