Flashback Friday: This Boy of Mine

There are some places we go where I have grand aspirations of presenting a composed and put-together front.

One of those places: Church.

Why do I feel that way?

Because I don't want anyone to think I'm a big ol' mess who can't handle her kids. Can't handle her life. Can't handle being a Mom and is in WAY over her head. It's silly. But, it is what it is.

Well, shortly after Lincoln, my third, was born - I scrambled to make it out the door to church.

And, then...

Have a great weekend, everybody!

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Originally published March 13, 2008.

Yesterday was our second trip back to Bible Study.

My third trip out alone with all three boys.

I'm happy to report that I got them dressed and out the door in a time that even Dale Earnhardt, Jr. would find impressive. And, I even remembered to close the van door on our way into church.

First stop: the bathroom. We quickly stop with Jack each time we enter church. Only this particular day, he had a very important rock in his hand that he picked up from the parking lot.

And, he dropped it. Right into the I'm-all-finished-Mommy potty. And, immediately stuck his entire arm in to retrieve it. You know, winter. Long sleeves. Soaked.

"No, no, no, no, no, Jack. You DON'T put your arm in there." Startled by my reaction, he dropped it back in.

Immediate meltdown. Of historical proportions.

So, in a moment of pure motherly insanity out of love for this child, and in the spirit of NOT taking him and his soaked right arm into his class screaming, I retrieved his rock, washed it off, and we left our morning bathhouse.

We walked into his class and Jack shouted,

"Look at my rock everybody. My mommy got it for me from the potty."

Love, y'all. Love.