Babies in Church Poem

So sorry to be so sentimental lately.  If you only knew...I'm sparing you a lot.  This is just the tip of the iceberg.  (we put away the crib today!  I have to say I absented myself...I could not watch or take part)

I have had an idea in my head a while.  It has to do with babies and church and Walt Whitman.  And it is a subject that has been on my mind a lot, because Emerson will be going to nursery here in one more month.  (I need a little pep talk right now...not ready to let go!)

I have to admit, when Kaedon was little, I was thrown for a loop in church.  I have mostly always loved church (as an adult, mind you), and it was hard to take a baby out because I hated missing anything.  Church gives me a boost like nothing else can-- a little recharge and perspective changer for the week.  So it can be frustrating to take a baby out.  Sometimes I've even wondered why I was even there, I was missing so much.

Then, I turned around, and Kaedon was in nursery.

And I met a friend who helped me learn how to keep my babies from wanting to go out so much.  So with the rest of my kids, I tried to keep enough in my bag to keep them busy and take them out only as a last resort.  (They often forget its even an option when you rarely take them out)  And when I did take them out, I made sure it was worse for them out of a meeting than in, ie-- no running around, drinks, or play...just sitting in a chair in a boring room.  They quickly decide it's much more fun sitting on Mom's lap eating Cheerios and reading a book.

After changing my approach, my little ones were (mostly) so good, and I enjoyed the time just holding them, and realized they'd be in nursery before I knew it, that I learned not to wish away that time.  I really soaked it up and enjoyed my little buddies.  And I realized that even when I have to take them out, I'm learning how to be Christlike through actions and not just sermons.

I see so many frustrated first-time parents that I wish I had a way to explain this-- so they don't resent their child but see it as an opportunity.

Disclaimer:  I love church.  I love listening to people speak.  I love the "old men" in our church-- LOVE them (see here) (I LOVE conference...it's my favorite and it's coming up!).  They are so wise and I have learned so much from their wisdom and life experience. They are mostly not boring.  This poem I wrote to mimic one of my favorites by Whitman, When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer.  I tried my darnedest to keep to his original intent, meter, etc, and it was much harder than I thought.  Won't be doing it again any time soon.  Hopefully you will get the picture of what I'm trying to say?

When I Heard the Old Theologian

When I heard the old theologian,
When the nature of God was ranged in theory before me,
When I was shown the footnotes and references,
To highlight and cross-check them,
When I, sitting, heard the high councilman, where he
Lectured with much approbation in the chapel-hall,
How soon, unaccountable, my baby tired and sick;
Till rising and slipping out, held fast my child,

And under a pastel of Jesus touch'd with honey-sun,
I comforted and soothed 'til he fell asleep,
And, from time to time, look'd in wonder
At His face in my perfect
Sleeping babe.