Here’s the burden all us good church-going women have to bear: getting children ready for church on Sunday mornings. I HATE it. Hate hate HATE it. Adding to this burden is the fact that the church people always want our good church-going husbands to be at church early, to say, practice with the worship team or prepare to teach Sunday school. So, we must get our little Christians-in-training (not to mention ourselves) ready all by our lonesome. To me, this task is torture. To be honest, trying to get makeup and hair done with two kiddos pulling at me is always torture, but it’s worse on Sunday, because when it’s time to leave for church, it’s also Sophie’s naptime and she’s usually spent the last 15-20 minutes of my toilette screaming her head off. All this crying makes me crazy and I become “Mean Mommy”. Before we left for church this morning, Joshua says to me, “Mommy I’m having trouble at my house today.”
“Why baby?” I ask.
“Because you’re yelling at me all the time.”
Ugh. Knife. To. The. Heart.
But you know what? He was right. I had been, not yelling exactly, but snapping at him all morning in my stress and my haste to get the three of us ready.
Really puts you in the mood to worship.
