Oh where to begin...
Yesterday was a long day. I wouldn't say a bad day, but one that was full of conflict. It seems to be my battle lately. Everything is coming at me at once and I'm barely keeping my head above water. So where should I start? The younger boys, or the older boys? Let's go with the bigger situation yesterday....Boaz and Roman. Yes, I think that is the right decision. Let me run with it.
Well Boaz is teething his second set of one year molars. They are beastly to cut for him. I'm not sure if he is aware of his split personality at only one year, but I sure am. My happy go lucky tot will be waddling around wherever I am doing my chores, then all of a sudden he turns into the Incredible Hulk and throws a well rehearsed little fit. Actually, I may be a little more forgiving of the tantrum if he actually took on the traits of the Incredible Hulk, because at least there would be warning. I mean he would turn green and his tiny clothes would tear and shred right before my eyes and therefore I would at least feel prepared that an outburst was coming. No, what is a better way to describe this. Hmmmm.....oh I got it...he's a sniper. Yep, a well hidden sniper. He is mosying along being good, minding his own tiny business, and then all of a sudden something makes him pull his hair trigger; something gets launched in to the air and may land on Popeye (our dog) or will come skidding across the tile or wood floor. Of course, that isn't enough to satisfy his flesh. He then must collapse to the floor and I don't mean without any care, no it's more like he glances through his peripheral vision to make sure his brilliant little noggin doesn't get any bumps or bruises in the landing. It's actually quite a graceful fit throwing. The only thing he is unaware of his how orchestrated it looks. Knowing that he is going to make sure that his body makes a soft landing I pretty much ignore them. To which he lays there silently, requiring no more attention, surprisingly. I think he is just recharging his batteries before he gets up and snipes off another fit, personally.
Okay, so by the end of the day I'm beginning to think about church at 7:30pm. Oh boy...this should be fun. So we do the diaper bag shuffle right before we walk out the door and we are off, perfectly aware that I am heading in to battle with my toddlers. I must... stay.... focused.
So when we get to church I see some visiting brethren pull up. It's our wonderful stand-bys and I can't tell you how much that means to me, but I also know it's not only home brethren with our 20 something kids. I must make sure my arsenal is full of ammo to keep babies behaved. Please don't act up sniper!
It begins with everyone coming in and visiting. Anthony a four year old happily sings song, "Hi Roman!" across the room. Roman stoically doesn't respond. Anthony piped off another happy hello, to which he receives a scowl. So I decide to make Roman say hi back. That goes over like a lead balloon. He lets me know he doesn't want to. I ask him if he plans on obeying me (me waiting with bated breath because this single answer will determine the rest of meeting for me), to which he hesitantly says yes. So I asked him again to say hello, to which a tiny hi was retorted. It was so tiny that his lips didn't move (yes it can be done...try it.) However, everyone smiles and it seems to have done the job. That is when meeting is about to start so I remind him to hop up on the bench and sit back. If I had had a seatbelt for all of us, and maybe a bar to lay in our laps I would have fastened them both because I knew it was going to be a bumpy emotional roller coaster ride. But since I didn't I was going to have to wing it.
From that moment on the first hymn was started and sniper boy began to pull out his little bag of tricks. He wanted up, no down...he wanted his bottle, he wanted to throw his bottle. Oh here comes the collapsing that he has been practicing all day. It would have been challenging enough with Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde, but Roman also decided to work on Abram's last nerve. You see he would point his tiny three year old index finger at anything that was entertaining Abram and demand that it be brought to him. Of course, Abram, being the eldest of the three was not impressed. He tried to share or take turns with Roman, but Mr. Roman would cry silently. Now when I say silently it doesn't sound half bad, but understand that we all knew that it was just a matter of time before the silent cry would turn into wailing. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off. Tick tock...tick tock.
So to make a very long meeting, for me, short I had to waltz both babies out, apply a little hiney pressure, and call out the big dog (Den) to take sniper boy out once (which almost never happens). At the end of the evening, after the dismissal prayer I was humbled. A little embarrassed by the circus, but at the end of the day we survived. You see I have trained many a sniper in my motherhood, and this one will be no different. No taking shelter from meeting for me. BRING IT ON BABIES!!