Big Sunday

As I sit here in my mom’s extremely cluttered living room, listening to the washing machine work over-time on my fifty-seven loads of laundry and Baby Bug snoring softly in her bassinet beside me, my shoulders ache and I wonder what to write about… Should I keep it light and talk about the fun I had with my nieces painting rocks in the front yard while Baby Bug slept in the house contentedly on her Grandma’s big soft belly? Or should I write about Baby Bug’s first day at Sunday School and my first day back to meeting (church for those who are not long time readers). I’m tempted to keep it light. It’s past my bedtime. My shoulders are killing me and I feel like I’m a million years old. But it would be a shame not to jot just a few words down.

Today was a big day. It was Baby Bug’s first day to go to Sunday School and it was my first day back after being gone for ten years. Sure, I’ve come and gone now and then over the years but I lurked. I stayed in the shadows and avoided people as best I could. I kept a low profile because when I left the meeting, it wasn’t on the best of terms and a bunch of other stuff that I’ve written about before but is now lost in my many archives. I thought they were gone for good but I guess if you click on the right things you can still find them somewhere. Good luck on that. I’m offering no help.

Today I was back and I was officially welcomed. It was strange but good. From the Aunts coming at me with opened arms and a cups of hot coffee to my Uncle standing up after the breaking of bread and giving a little speech about joy and reconciliation… it was just a lot to take in. And I hate to admit it but I think I was mostly just self conscious because I had a little baby with me. I was very aware of her ability to squeal and cry and bring even more attention my way.

Thankfully, the meeting room proved to be quite interesting to Baby Bug. She loved the hymn singing and all the loud clear voices quoting scriptures and praying. She spent a lot of time checking out the ceiling fan whirring up above her and looking at the big black and white contrasting letters of the verses that were hung on the walls. She listened to her great uncle give the gospel with better attention than her seven-year-old cousin who was sitting beside her.

After the meetings were over, she was a really good baby and only had “stranger anxiety” with a few people who got too close too fast or laughed a little too loud when she wasn’t expecting it. Sometimes I think Baby Bug is the most fussy when she is bored. When we stay home all day doing the normal routine she can be a regular Miss Crankypants. But when we’re out and there are new things coming at her from every direction, she’s the perfect angle baby. I always expect her to have a rough time when I take her to the mall or the grocery store or like today a big new building with new sounds and new faces… but she loves all the stimulus. Her eyes are bugging out of her head and she probably skips a few naps but she’s very well behaved. She smiles and laughs and coos like a perfect little baby. And when we gets home she goes right to sleep with no fussing at all. She’s tired.

I’m tired. We are both just wore out. But it’s been a lot of fun. It’s been good for my heart. Maybe I’ll write more about the rock painting and the big Sunday dinner and my never ending laundry tomorrow. Or not. Maybe I’ll have something even better to write about. I have no idea what I’m doing tomorrow.