Yesterday I made the goal to go to all three hours of church, finally. I haven’t successfully attended all three meetings since H was born. He was born in the cold months so I don’t feel guilty about it because I was keeping him home and safe from germs, but now that its April and he is almost 5 months old, I figured I really couldn’t use that as an excuse anymore and needed to make a stronger effort to go to all three meetings.
Our ward starts at 11 so it shouldn’t be that hard to get ready and get out the door in time. But the night before (saturday to sunday) H slept a grand total of 2 hours. So we were dragging and exhausted. We got to church at 11:15 or so. Several minutes after being there H pooped and it seemed like a lot so I went to quickly change him before it became a blowout. Ok, I hate changing babies on those changing tables. They’re tiny and likely so germ infested! My diaper bag has a section that folds out into a changing pad, so I laid that on top of the table, but it still was gross. I feel like my anxiety was just boiling over the entire time I was changing him, trying not to get anything messy, keeping his hands off of the changing table and hoping no one would walk in to the bathroom while I was taking care of this mess. Got it all taken care of cleanly. Avoided a blowout. Back to Sacrament Meeting.
Only a few minutes later after sitting next to Wild Man again, H poops again, but this time there was definitely more and it was coming in frequent waves. Somehow I just knew this one was a blowout. I grabbed the diaper bag and again headed to the women’s bathroom and pulled out the nasty changing table.
All up his back and into his hair and down his legs (but miraculously nothing on his pants?) Changing blowouts on a wiggly baby who’s main goal at the moment was to attempt to roll off the dirty changing table is exhausting and at some point almost makes you cry. It was a mess. I stripped him down, wiped him down then put a clean diaper on him. At this point I thought to myself, I’ll shoot for three hours of church next week – I’m going home. I dug through my diaper bag to see if I’d put a new outfit in there to change H into on the chance of a blowout. All I had was a little pajama one-piece that is too small and quite tight on my little guy. I squished him into it and left the bathroom.
I’d apparently been in there a while because Sacrament Meeting was out and Wild Man was standing outside the door. He laughed when he saw H in his new outfit and I quickly complained to him about how messy the diaper was and how gross the changing table was. As I was about to ask him if I should head home, Wild Man said, “well lets head to Sunday School then.” I was about to fight it. But it was like this was my second chance at reaching my three hour goal.
He was good in Sunday School. He got a little fussy for a while but then fell asleep. No complaints there.
The third hour was Relief Society and he was still asleep at the beginning so I was feeling like I was going to finish strong. But ultimately I didn’t finish as strongly as I would have liked to. Apparently those too small pajamas I changed H into look girly (tan and blue) because two women asked what my daughters name was.. Then after 10-15 minutes of Relief Society H woke up with crazy energy. He was either screaming/yelling/talking out of pure excitement or it would quickly change and he’d scream/cry out of pure anger. He woke up three sleeping babies, even. It was embarrassing but I had to keep reminding myself this is what babies do and the women in the room knew that. (plus he was being better than the little boy behind me so at least we weren’t the worst in the room)
I was pretty relieved when 2 o’clock slowly rolled around. We went home, I ate a quick snack then H and I headed to take a nap. We’d survived.
Since General Conference a couple weeks ago I have been trying to focus on what I can do to make myself a better person. I think so often I figure that if I am praying morning and night and several times in between and reading my scriptures daily then I am moving forward spiritually and am on a steady incline. But over the last couple days I’ve made the discovery that its not enough. Yes its good, and progress is progress, but I can and need to do so much more. I am still worthy and being a good LDS woman if I’m at least putting effort forth, but I remember hearing somewhere that if you’re standing still in the gospel then you’re actually moving backwards – you always need to be working to actively move forward.
That is exactly what I want to do. I want to actively move forward. I’m doing a good job currently, but I want to do better. I want to be better about enforcing Family Home Evening in my home, I want to give more service to my husband, my son, our families and our neighbors, I want to be more Christlike and really study the gospel and be one of those people who just shine with the light of the church. (wow, getting cheesy there? yeah probably..)
But you get what I’m saying, right? I’m excited to move forward and to strive to be better.