Humility on Easter Holiday

We had an interesting Easter Sunday, not bad exactly, just humbling. It was sort of one of those lessons that God gives you to let you know that no matter how prepared and organized you are, you have no control. We woke up early, and we were determined to get to the early service. We got the kids fed. Everyone was dressed. Yet, by the time we were out the door, we were already running five minutes late. HOW? Time just escapes when you are not looking. That's all I can figure. That, and I probably shouldn't have taken the time to toast and butter my bagel. Twenty minutes into our thirty minute drive, "Mommy, where are my shoes?" Sure enough, Child #1 is wearing white socks and nothing else. Well, where did you put them? I looked at the seat and floor, but it is all in vain. I still didn't quite understand. Child #1 has been putting on his own shoes for over a year, but for the first time ever, he forgot. On Easter Sunday. So do we go to church with no shoes or turn around and start over for the late service? Well, there is no gurantee that something else wouldn't stop us from getting to the late service, so we march on! As I said to my husband, "Nobody looks at kids feet anyway."

I was wrong. Everybody notices a little boy hopping around in white socks. So we bring #2 and #3 to the nursery and take #1 to church with us. By now, we have already missed the invocation, etc. so we are going in during the meet and greet. The ushers have a quizzical look when they see the white socks, and they seem like they would love to hear the story of why. Thankfully during the service, no one can see feet. Unfortunately, after the service, during the special coffee and pastry Easter brunch, everyone does see them. As if that wasn't enough, Child #2 decided to have a classic food freakout. That involves the ear piercing scream from being frustrated with food. Specifically a cookie he really wanted, that kept breaking. I know what you're thinking, but he is not normal. So we tried to make a hasty exit before any more people noticed what a mess our family was on this particular Sunday.

But a hasty exit was not to be this morning. As we drove to the entrance/exit of the parking lot, something tumbled down our roof. My dear husband had been carrying the miscellaneous church distractions that we had brought for Child #1, and he had set them on the roof while we got kids in the car. He seemed to have forgotten to put them in the car. Specifically, there was a trace erase board with papers, two board puzzles and a puzzle book. Yep, puzzle pieces all over asphalt. We were blocking the entrance and exit as we scrambled to pick up all the pieces, and I tried not to flash anyone driving by. (I really hate wearing skirts, but it was Easter.)

Ah well, at least we were both giggling, and not blaming each other. It was so ridiculous, that I couldn't help laughing. I have been embarassed so many times in my life that I am mostly past humiliation. Mostly. I just don't like feeling like a bad mother. We dyed hard boiled eggs for Easter, went to a church egg hunt, and did our own indoor egg hunt. We talked about Jesus dying on the cross, and the tomb being empty three days later. My oldest played with the baby for an hour because he likes her. They are sweet, kind and obedient... usually. But nobody saw any of that. My public moments are my worst. Child #1 with no shoes, which he repeated on a trip to Home Depot because he thought it was funny. Apparently, we did not clearly explain that you cannot leave the house without shoes. Seriously! Child #2 with the food issues. People in Kroger don't understand why a boy is shrieking about a cookie he's holding. (It's because they only had the heavy frosted kind, which falls apart and gets all over his hands. It's very frustrating to him.) Usually, they just look at me like I am raising a self indulgent brat. I think to some extent, I can understand how some parents of autistic children must feel like. Thankfully, Child #3 never embarasses me. She makes me look good. I should just take her shopping and leave the others at home with dad. Nah, that would be the easy way out. God likes to remind me that I have no right to feel so smug about being better. I have no right to compare myself to other moms. The minute I start doing that, I get knocked off my high horse.