When they are YOUR kids
Today at church, a couple of my friends and I were talking about how exasperating our kids can be. How they make so much noise and never stop and argue and are difficult and cry and whine and…you get the point. My boys had acted up so much in the first five minutes of the church service that I just picked them up and took them to the nursery to save the rest of the congregation the headache. (Plus, the boys much prefer the nursery to the “boring” church service.)
One of my friends said, “Sometimes, when that happens, I’m so glad it’s not my kid.” Don’t we all feel that way? How many times have you been in a store, someone else’s kids are going buck wild and you think, “Oh, I’m so glad those aren’t my kids.” I know I’ve done it. I think I’ve even high-fived Aaron in one of those moments thinking that, thank goodness, I’m not the one whose children are causing a ruckus.
But lately, and more often than not, the noise in the store has been coming from my kids — usually it’s Flash. He’s 19 months old, and he’s learning how to speak up for himself. He’s at the budding independence, and it’s becoming more and more difficult each day. To go shopping with him is something that takes lots of planning: he and I must both be well fed and not nearing a nap time. This keeps us both from melting down.
That doesn’t always work, though. Sometimes, he just loses patience with having to sit in the cart. He tries his best to escape the confines of the cart’s belt (which – by the way – don’t really make sense: why are they up under a child’s armpit!? and never adjustable?!). He argues with me if I don’t pick up a package of something he’s wildly pointing at but can’t say. And then he melts into a pool of blubbering, screaming, snotty anger.
And at that moment, it’s my kid that someone else is silently smiling about and breathing a sigh of relief. Not out of spite or judgment but out of absolute understanding.
It got even better tonight at our Love Feast at church. It was the kids’ chance to sing. Flash would not be still, and then he accidentally rammed his head against the pew. Screaming ensued, and I took him out. One of the awesome ladies of the church came out and offered to take him to the nursery. He freaked. More than freaked. It was like she was taking him away from me forever. So, we went back to letting him squirm in my arms.
Right before the final song, the Animal lost it and had to come sit with Aaron. He did so well with the first two songs (they let him have a mic, and he whispered “Away in a Manger” – hilarious), but for some reason he decided he was done.
So once again, they were my kids. My kids were the difficult ones. My kids were the loud, cranky ones. As much as I tried to not let myself get worried about it, I knew someone in the church was thinking, “Geez, doesn’t she have control over her kids?”
And someone else was thinking, “Phew, glad those aren’t my kids.”
I reassure myself that this is totally normal — and it’s probably not as bad as I think it is.
Tell me I’m right. You’ve been in my shoes, yes?
“They” are usually my kids. 😉
Those were my kids this morning! Thankfully the 3 yr old was fairly well behaved…overall…generally speaking, um, anyways… It was the 9 yr old whom was acting more like a 2 yr old. Ever so subtly kicking the leg of the pew, causing the lovely wooden echo. Then thumping the pencil eraser on the hymnal, then the pew seat, causing a wonderful hollow sound. Then making this obnoxious whimpering/whining sound because he got in trouble. I must admit, at that point a bathroom spanking ensued creating a slight improvement. At least enough to make it through the rest of service. Ah well, such is my life! 🙂
It feels like it will never end, right? I know it will. I don’t still get in trouble with MY parents. Heehee.
this is so me! i was so glad my kids didnt run off stage! i thought sarah was gonna drop the mic and make a mad dash for the exit. my kids have almost burnt the church down bf with the candles. i have grabbed luke by his pants and sarah under my arm and then couldnt get the door open all during morning church. luke got under the prrachers robe. preacher was a woman! believe me no one notices those kids bc we r all too busy worrying if ours are those kids! relax and just keep cookiea in ur pockets. btw lydia and i go to same church.
LOL – my favorite part of this is that no one is noticing because they are worried about their own. 🙂
“They” are almost always my kids. Except when the baby screams because our youngest is now 3. We are diligently training them on how to behave in church and other places. Some days those lessons sink in and some days we seem like a bunch of banshees and whirling dirvishes. Ok, most days we look like whirling dirvishes.
“Whirling dirvishes” is quite possibly the best description ever!!
We were running late for church yesterday. We walked in the door and I grabbed Ben’s name tag for the Children’s service. HE FLIPPED OUT! I guess he does usually get to look for it himself and get it down, but we were late! We got to our seat and he was still screaming. I said to the people right behind us, “We;re here!” and they laughed. Thankfully he stopped screaming before the service actually started.
So awful when we don’t let them do it themselves. Thank you for sharing so I know I’m not alone!