We attend church in a meetinghouse with two other congregations. In this building are a Samoan congregation and a Spanish congregation. I remember walking into the building the first week after moving into our new home, and falling in love with the Primary childrens' voices singing in spanish. This week, however, I wasn't feeling the love.
After I picked Stinky up from Nursery at the end of all classes, WBH had to have a brief meeting. I decided a walk would probably wear him out enough for a nap. During the time Chris was in his meeting, Stinky managed to run through the Spanish congregation's Sunday School, and not once, but twice, did he make it onto the pulpit of the chapel where the Samoan congregation was preparing to meet. Upon reaching the top of the pulpit, he let out an ear-piercing scream. Remember, this was in the chapel a space designed for acoustics. Two times, folks, count 'em.
I finally caught him and left the chapel, tears filling my eyes as I was watched with glares and snickers. I found WBH and asked for the keys. When he asked what was wrong, all I could say was "Finish your meeting. I just need to have him strapped into his car seat and a tranquilizer dart." I'm still not sure who the tranquilizer dart was for.
I just hate feeling like 'that mom' with 'that kid.'
Today has been as much of a challenge, and while it may not have been in public, it did involve doggy destruction, several bodily fluids, and a refusal to nap. I thought about taking a picture for 'wordless Wednesday,' but most wouldn't be family friendly.