* Jackson and a little boy two rows in front of us are trading toys back and forth showing each other how cool their transformer / spider man/ car/ truck whatever else, but are heartbroken when church starts and I make them quit. Jackson spends 10 minutes pouting and giving me attitude for putting a stop to his game.
* Carter head butts me three times during sacrament meeting fighting to get down to run up on the stand. (If I have a black eye and fat lip tomorrow... he's so busted.)
* After the bread is passed, Carter yells "ummm, water! water!" like he's dying of dehydration.
* During the prayer Carter yells "quiet" over and over while squinting his eyes shut as tight as possible - example of knowing the word but lacking the point.
* I'm holding Owen in his carseat on my lap continually bouncing to keep him asleep, when Carter crawls under my legs and the bench, and makes a dive towards freedom and the aisle. I set Owen down (waking him up) and grab Carter just as he gets out of finger reach and drag him yelling back into our pew.
* Jackson leans across the aisle at his friend Tyra, and they make goofy faces at each other for ten minutes before I realize what they are doing.
* In rebellion for not being able to run up the aisle, Carter pulls his shoes and pants off.
(All of the above done while sitting in front of a visiting family, who's in our ward for the first time... lovely.)
* During nursery I need to change Carter so I take him out, strip him down, get him cleaned off and realize the diapers I got to repack my diaper bag are sitting on the table at home. Naked child with no diaper goes running around the room while I borrow a diaper from a friend (thanks Karin!)
*Owen pulls the amazing baby trick that if you sit down they wake up, so we spend Relief Society standing and bouncing to the side. Even after putting him down I find myself bouncing for no reason, and probably look like I'm going through detox...
* Bart gets the boys from their classes, and they run next door to the Relief Society room. Somewhere in between the two doors (which are right across from each other) they run out and follow friends out the door of the church. Thanks to Damon for catching them as they ran amok outside before getting too far away.
* To keep boys awake on the way home the snickerdoodles my VT brought me are divided up and declared to be lunch by Carter. 6 cookies later. . . we're finally home, and they are down for naps.
All this and it's only 2:15pm. Remind me why I'm doing this again? I've heard ladies say that's it so when they're teenagers they'll go to church without fighting, because that's what we do. We go to church. Here's hoping I live through all these relaxing Sundays until they're teenagers.
(I'm remarkably in a good mood, despite my kids' efforts to the contrary. I just want to remember what I survived through when they were little.)