He Takes My Heart With Him

He's Got Quite An Arm!

Church day! My husband had to work all day, so I readied all four children and loaded them up by myself. We got there early, because our church is always packed for the second service. I had about ten minutes to drop off the kids at their various Sunday Schools and nurseries.

Caitlin's room is right by the door, so she went right to her class. Nate was next. One of the teenage girls who works in the two-year-old room just loves him and greeted him with a huge smile and an "I know who you are!" He grinned back and away he went. Ashley begged to be dropped off last and objected, for the umpteenth time, that she didn't want to go to Sunday School, she wanted to go to the "big room" with mom. We went to the walker nursery to drop off Jack.

Poor Jack. We had to wait about five minutes in line. They're using a new system for drop-off and it's not going too smoothly, yet. When it was Jack's turn and our friend took him, he looked at me with an expression of surprise and fear and began to cry. Arms reaching out, imploring to me, as they carried him into the nursery.

Not to be outdone, Ash refused to go into her room. "Look! Mrs. Cooper is teaching." Nothing. "Hailey's here." Not a budge. Time for tough love. "You are going." By the time I had taken two steps toward her, she had darted several feet down the hall, crying out, "No! I'm NOT going!" I picked her up and carried her into her room, stating, "Yes, you are." Setting her down, I gave her a kiss on her furrowed forehead and told her I would see her in a little bit.

Whew! That only took fifteen minutes!

I found myself a seat in the back and began singing with the music. I love our church's band. At the start of the second song, I realized someone was standing next to me. Our friend, holding Jack and his diaper bag. Jack, who is sniffling and sobbing and looking absolutely stricken. "I have to go in and do a skit," she said, "and Jack was still crying so hard. I knew you'd want him."

She was right. I pull Jack into my embrace and rock back and forth with the music, singing softly in his ear. Within a few minutes, he's happily babbling and charming our seatmates.

He actually makes it through three-quarters of the sermon before the trouble begins. He's bored with the ordinary objects I'm trying to distract him with. A pen. The bulletin. A bracelet. His bottle. His pacifier. His own feet. So, it starts. Wham! He throws his bottle down and it rolls to the aisle ahead of us. The lady in front of us graciously picks it up and hands it back with a smile. Whip! He takes his pacifier and chucks it across the aisle. A man sitting across from us picks it up, and hands it back to me, chuckling. Foom! The pen sails through the air and lands at the feet of another man. He manages to hold back his laugh as he hands it over. Zip! The bottle, now empty, again flies through the air and rolls along. A friend of ours in the vicinity picks it up and hands it to me, grinning. I grimace back and vow not to give Jack anything else for the rest of the sermon. About 45 seconds later, Jack tries for the pen, again, and when I refuse to relinquish it, he breaks into a howl. The couple behind me snicker. I give in and within a minute, the pen is airborne. Ducking my head, I pretend to be very interested in Jack's shoes. This is quite the humbling experience.

For the last five minutes of church, I alternate between whispering Pat-A-Cake in Jack's ear and making his feet dance on my lap.

On the way out, one of our friends laughs at me and shakes Jack's hand. "He's got quite an arm, doesn't he?" he says. Yeah, I noticed. I kiss his little blond head and shake my own.