Me and My Baby at Church

Quinn and I spent three hours walking the halls at church today, and how was your Sunday?! She is so happy and so smiley but also SO loud, and that's where we have a problem. That baby tricks me into thinking that class is a good idea and then as soon as we sit down she starts banging on metal chairs or saying "babababa!" at the top of her deep little lungs. It's cute and funny for a second, but then I understandably start getting some looks so off we go to roam the halls in search of other screaming-baby Mama's. Luckily our ward is full of them so we don't lack for good conversation--now if only we could set up a cry-room class and actually feel the spirit on a Sunday. Wouldn't that be marvelous? 

The great thing about having multiple children is you realize that these crazy moments are all just a stage. I vividly remember telling an experienced mother in our ward in England that I wasn't sure why I even came to church because I never go to class. I was feeling frustrated and fatigued and she gave me a hug and said, "You come to show that baby that no matter what, church is important! You come every week and love it, and he'll come every week and love it!" At the time it was hard for me to imagine a day that we'd be doing more than dumping and picking up Cheerios in the hallway but soon enough T was in nursery and I was fully present in my Sunday classes. It was major deja vu with Ever Knight but with a pinch of perspective that "this too will pass," and it did. So I'm not feeling helpless with this naughty-pants Quinner because I know that in no time it'll be smooth sailing in Sunday school once again, but sometimes I wish that the nursery age was a little bit younger than 18 months (like, say, 9 months!)

On our walk home from church I handed James my phone and begged for a picture of me with my girl. She may be the most active child I've ever known and she may make church absolutely impossible but she loves life and smiles easily and I love her so much I carried her all the way home instead of putting her in the stroller. Everyday is better with that girl, including--somehow--Sunday!