We have had some funny things happen to us at church, especially the last couple of years.
Some days you'd think we were at the circus. Especially when its my turn to play the organ (lets just say I've perfected the "do that and die" look, when I'm on the stand and Miguel is out with the baby and the kids are acting up).
When Isa had a broken leg and a thigh high purple-striped cast, Miguel went out of town one Sunday. I had to play the organ, didn't think much of it. I told Kaedon if Ava needed something, he was in charge. Then I asked Isa to help (why would I ask a child with a broken leg to help?). At one point, in the middle of a song, I noticed Ava leaving the room. Kaedon got up and followed her. So did Isa, hopping on one leg. Maia hopped up and trailed behind the rest of the kids. Ava's always had a little spunk, and she wasn't about to be told what to do by her then 8 year-old brother. Lets just say she ran in a big loop around the room, up and down the aisles, with a brother, one hopping sister and one running sister behind her in hot pursuit. I got to watch all this out of the corner of my eye while trying to maintain a semblance of dignity in the song (and I hate being the center of attention more than almost anything). After they sat down, Ava started screaming for me (screaming). I couldn't really do anything, so I carried on. Two different ladies tried to calm her, and she just screamed louder. One of them brought her to the seat next to mine and she screamed even louder because I was sitting right there and wasn't picking her up.
A different Sunday, Miguel was out with the baby, and Ava begged to come up on the stand with me. I told her in no uncertain terms that she was NOT to touch the buttons (didn't know how else to explain the keys). She said okay with a really somber, brown-eyed look. Well, I'm sitting there, playing the song, and she is sitting on a padded choir seat next to the organ. Pretty soon I saw a finger creeping closer and closer and closer to the organ keys. I was trying to maintain composure while I told her in my sternest whisper-voice, which got louder and louder "NOT touch the buttons!" Now I'm messing up. Heads of bishopric turning my way. Little finger reaching anyway...BEEEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEP. HIGH pitched beep. Meanwhile, I'm saying NO, NO, NO (making mistake, mistake, mistake,...voices faltering). She stops pressing the high pitched keys and instead SITS on the pedals, which now issue a low-pitched continuous blare. I didn't know what else to do, so I picked her up and sat her on the floor next to the organ. Of course, the song went totally dead at that moment, as voices trailed off in a confused sort of LA la la la la. I was so embarrassed I wanted to bury my head in the sand and never show my face again. Yet after my song was over, I had lots of people come up to me and thank me for the halftime entertainment. "Thank you," one man said. "I was falling asleep-- that is the most fun I've had in church in a long time."
Some other highlights of our Sunday circus: one child drizzling water from the cup they just drank out of across the whole sacrament tray, contaminating four or five cups. Along the same lines, various children of ours have hunted through the pieces of bread for just the right one (when these things happen we usually happen to be sitting helplessly at the other end of the bench).
Maia, wanting to sing but not knowing how to read yet (bad, bad Mommy), singing The Star Spangled Banner when the hymn was something else entirely-- in the pauses between refrains you could hear a gusty "and the rockets red glare.....the bombs bursting in air...."
The holey tights. During the week I forget they need tights....then when Sunday comes there is no choice but to wear the holey tights and hope their shoes will cover up the holes. Of course, when I'm not paying attention, they take their shoes off and put their feet up on the bench (Maia demonstrates in the picture above) to advertise to the whole world that not only is their toe poking out (sometimes toeS), but their mom isn't the best toenail clipper. (We actually had someone bring their daughter's old tights over one Sunday after one of ours was running around like this).
A child who picks up a piece of bread that turns out to be about six inches long (normally they're one or two). She stares at it and stares at it and stares at it. Shakes it. Shakes it again, holding it with just the tips of her fingers like a dead fish. Still staring at it, about three inches from her face, with a very serious I-don't-know-what-to-do-now sort of look. This gives Kaedon the giggles so bad that he just can't stop laughing. Mom and Kaedon laughing for minutes to come.
Lots of other entertaining things happen, too, usually having to do with territorial parental lap-space or cheerios.
I'll spare you the story about the time I was pregnant and thought of some friends (that we left behind in our last move) during a song and could NOT stop crying. I was making those loud "heuh" sounds from sucking in large breaths between sobs. I wanted to stop. I was so embarrassed...but I COULD NOT STOP. Miguel was looking over at me with a bewildered deer-in-the-headlights "what the heck is going on with my wife?" sort of expression. He scooted over next to me and put his arm around me and asked what was wrong, but that just made me cry harder. I tried to explain, and that made it even worse. I was trying...
heuhhh....to......heuhhh.....talk.....heuhhh....but couldn't.....heuhhh.....get .....a ......breath. Lets just say I laughed pretty hard afterward. And hid in the bathroom for a few minutes. (oops, I guess I didn't spare you the story)
Love this quote from a mom when I was a new mom myself, spending lots of time in the halls: "I just go to church to show the Lord whose team I'm on."
