Wow, did I just take a little blogging vacation? I feel like I oughta reintroduce myself. Maybe not. Did anybody miss me? Is anyone annoyed by my shameless plea for attention?
You don’t have to answer that question.
Before I really get back into this thing called blogging (and give the Mommy Blogging critics some very flammable fuel for their fire), I have some winners to announce!
Sarah4579, contact me with your e-mail address and I’ll pass it to our friends at Ali Bug Bows!!
Melissa, you’ll be hearing from My Lil Miss!
FieryCanuk, let me know what you decide to buy from Knotty Tots, will you (and please write me with your e-mail address too)!
Tyler and jeniferl, you two are the winners in my giveaway. First come, first serve!:) Let me know whether you would like the Crash Course in Creativity e-course or a homemade (by me) Snackin’ Pack.
Thank you all, so very much, for entering! I may just have another giveaway coming in the next couple of days, so stay tuned.
We’ve just started attending our church’s Sunday night service. We have intended to
for awhile every week for about a year and a half, but once Sunday evening rolls around we always think of something we’d like to do more ( ahem, sleep, ahem). Well, we finally made it, actually, we’ve been the last two Sundays. And I think we’ve found a home there (which is exciting). The service is small and rockin’, prophecy is common and jubilant praise is pretty much a requirement. It’s a small service made up mostly of twenty-somethings, but it’s made-to-order for our family.
By the way, none of that information is relevant to this story. But I hate to erase a paragraph that actually makes sense even though it’s being written after midnight.
Last Sunday night, I was in the back of the room, sitting on the floor with Baby Bear, while the older kids ran around with their banners flying (literally and I guess figuratively too). I like to sit where I can see them. I also like to periodically grab one of them and say, “Are you praising Jesus or are you playing?” Because I know the difference; I’ve seen it.
Bay Bit needed to go to the bathroom and Papa Bear agreed to take her. He won’t take the girls into the men’s bathroom, though (the whole bathroom thing is so much trickier for the dads than it is for moms), so he just stands outside the women’s bathroom, waits for them, and then walks them back to the sanctuary. This, I think, requires a little too much trust.
Bay Bit is a very capable three year old. In most ways you can hardly tell that she is sixteen months younger than her older sisters. But she does have a few little things that give her away (at least I’m hoping she’ll grow out of them). One of these quirks is that she has to have her underwear “fixed” every time she goes to the bathroom. She knows how to pull them up, she just thinks I do a better job. After the first three dozen times of “fixing” her underwear when there was nothing wrong with them in the first place, I started just popping the elastic band and saying, “There, all better.” She always replies, “Thanks!” before running away….even in the middle of the night.
But Daddy’s not the underwear fixer, Mama is, so when Bay Bit exited the bathroom on Sunday night, she did not look up at Papa Bear and say, “Fix my underwear, please.” Nope, she just took him by his hand and walked with him toward the sanctuary. On the way there they ran into the pastor (who does not preach on Sunday nights). “Hi, how are you tonight?” he smiled at Papa Bear and then looked down at Bay Bit and grinned.
“Bay Bit, can you say ‘hello’ to Pastor Ed,” Papa Bear said. And then he looked down to see her standing with her hand shoved down her pants.