This time in my life and the ages of my kids makes everything so intense: there is a lot of noise, a lot of mess, and certainly a lot of sibling squabbles. I mentally apologize to whomever we sit next to in church before the meeting begins. Perhaps I should start vocalizing those sentiments. But there were two especially sweet moments from this weekend. During our two hour meeting on Sunday I felt like it was a wrestling match, though on hard metal chairs instead of in a ring. Up and down. Up and Down. Offering this book to read, this picture to color, or these stickers to stick. Getting back from taking 3 to use the bathroom and Clover says, "I need to go potty!" I admit that I whispered in her ear to go in her diaper, after she confirmed it was number one she needed to go. She refused and got louder in her request until Ryan took pity [or felt embarrassed?] and took her. I felt like it was a parade, the circus, and a wrestling match, all rolled into a bundle of 5 Sunday-clad girls.
At the end of the meeting, the older woman sitting next to us went up to Ryan and told him what well-behaved children we have. What?! I think she had dementia, or needed glasses and most definitely a hearing aid. How I appreciated her simple comment. It was almost as if she refilled my parenting confidence, encouraging us that we are doing an okay job, because sometimes I wonder.
Then last night as I was tucking my sweet Olive in bed, she said, "I'm sorry I've been naughty this weekend, will you forgive me?" with tears flowing. And then my heart melted and I thought, it's worth it, parade, circus, wrestling match and all.