Almost like Christmas

Dashle is a typical 2 yr. old. He wants what he wants when he wants it and he doesn't want anyone to get in his way or distract him from his focus of wanting. This behavior is a bit easier to curb in our home since there is an array of alternatives to entice him. It is a lot trickier to tone down his passion of "wants" while at church since the first hour + 10 minutes is devoted to listening and sitting reverently...something our 2 yr. is not interested in doing.

Things can turn quite chaotic even before we enter the church if Dashle is certain he sees his dad down the sidewalk (man with dark hair, dark slacks, taller than Dashle...it must be his dad). Sometimes I ignite the dynamite when I mindlessly take his coat. (I never know if it is a "wear your coat inside" Sunday). On these Sundays I am typically pushing Dashle into the chapel with the baby carrier as he sobs and wails and screams "Daddy! Daddy!" Once seated he becomes easily hostile and angered and often takes swings at his sisters who are usually minding their own business. If I dare to hold Coy during the meeting he is inevitably the target of Dashle's jealous rage, ("Mom! Can't you see I'm upset here. Put the dang baby down!") I am also the short stop for our family team. I must deflect or catch any toy cars flying through the air before they hit innocent bystanders. My dad would be so proud.

Indeed there are other children in the chapel during this time, but no one else seems to notice when Dashle is around. All eyes are focused on him. Why? Because his dimples are intoxicatingly cute? Because his chubby cheeks are enticingly squeezable? Because when he says an exuberant, "Yeah!" giggles are instantaneous? Sadly, unfortunately, well...no. It is because our 2 yr. does not like to be contained in a pew. He needs to run free with the wind and go wherever his stubby legs take him. Sacrament meeting does not allow such freedom and in sacrament meeting Dashle recognizes and agonizes over being on lock down. He's trapped. He only gets about a foot and half of roaming room. If he dares to escape he is abruptly stopped short by adult sized legs blocking his passage. And so, all eyes tend to veer toward Dashle because he screams the loudest. Most times I just cannot remove him fast enough. How do I know the attention is on Dashle? The members of our ward tend to feel liberated once they tell me how my little boy "sure can scream." Ahem.

Some of my friends have openly admitted jubilation at my downfall. They have claimed gratitude for Dashle. It seems my daughters from 20 ft. away are models of perfection (although I feel I spend the entire time fiercely threatening them) and thus with an enraged 2 yr. old on my hands these moms (of young children) rejoice at my demise. This alone should indicate what a challenge church really is when Shyler is not around. I cannot blame them even though their perception is a bit off.

Most Sundays in 2009 have been single parent Sundays for me. This is the result of being married to a doctor. I will not mince words or appear heroic. Sunday mornings are really, really hard. By the time we get to church I feel as though I'm on the last leg of a very long race. If I can just muster enough energy to get through sacrament meeting then the kids will be off to primary and nursery for the remaining two hours. Must keep going! Cannot stop! Must forge ahead!

Sitting on an iron cast pig hanging with my dad! Oh! Happy Day!

A few weeks ago (after another sacrament meeting gone bad), I grabbed Dashle at the closing of the meeting and began moving through the throngs of people toward the nursery. The girls flanked me on either side when suddenly they were skipping toward someone. My heart literally jumped for the relief coming down the aisle. Here he was! My sweet husband who's hospital call had just finished at noon and now he was at church to save his desperate wife from the trials and exhaustion of single parenthood. A grand smile stretched across my face at the sight of my guy. The girls each grabbed one of his legs and squeezed him tightly while Dashle lunged for him nearly in tears at the sight of his long lost dad. I wanted to hurl Dashle at him so I could fall at his feet and hug his legs, too. I felt like saying, "You're here! You're here! Thank you! Thank you! I love you! I love you!"

This picture reveals how excited the kids are to be with me.

I cannot adequately explain the intense feeling of relief when Shyler shows up unexpectedly. I can only attempt to describe what things feel like and how unstable things really are when he isn't around. I'm happier and our kids are happier when we've got him in our sights. This is a church/gospel of family and service and reaching out to those in need. Certainly many members of the ward give consoling looks and try to offer a helping hand. But, for my children, especially Dashle, Shyler is our calming force. He has the highest success rate at subduing Dashle. The girls are more willing to oblige to my demands for reverence because I've got backup. The touch of his hand across the back of the pew assures me our kids will grow up and move out eventually. ;) He is our favorite hero. Nobody saves the day like our guy. When we get to have him around, which isn't often, it is almost like Christmas. I told him this recently and he said, "Is it because I am your favorite gift?" Bingo. Shyler, please come back to church. Your Dashle needs you! Ha. Ha.

This picture is dedicated to my mother, RHB: The grandchildren are eating a treat containing partially hydrogenated oils.

This little guy is seemingly my only fan as far as our posterity goes. Right now he thinks I'm pretty great, but I'm starting to think he's just using me for the milk.

(The pictures were taken a few weekends ago at the Columbus Zoo. We have lived here nearly two years and it was only the second time Shyler was able to go with us. The first time he came we didn't really see any animals. It was to see the zoo lights. Even on this lovely spring Saturday the kids were more interested in sitting on fake animals and persistently asking for a snack or drink.)