Armed With a Hairband

,p>A post of levity today. I've previously mentioned the religion rift in our family which leaves me and our three daughters traipsing off to church early every Sunday morning. Upon getting out of our van on Sunday our littlest began hiking up her dress. I bent down to assist her when I noticed a bit of Zoe (Sesame Street) underpants poking out above her tights. The waistband of her precious little pink knit tights dotted with big hearts was hopelessly stretched out and literally falling off her body while threatening to take her underpants with - and we were in the church parking lot. I quickly hustled her inside and found a place where we could work on this. My solution was to tuck the tights into the waistband of her underpants and hope that the elastic would hold both just long enough to get us through Mass. It got her into church okay and then I noticed the hiking had recommenced. I could tell we were not going to win the battle. At this point my mind started racing through all available options and the best I could come up with was: either take the tights off as discretely as possible and put them in my purse or try to find a better way to tighten them. It was at that moment that true brilliance struck. A hairband! My stylishly short haircut long ago made it a needless nuisance to carry my own hairbands but as a mother of three little girls at least one extra hairband is a must have. I quickly dug through my purse and located a perfectly pink elastic. Then, quickly digging my hands under her skirt I tied it around the extra knit fabric to create a snug waistband on her tights and amply resolved the peepage problem.

I may not always have the utmost faith in God but I absolutely believe he was at my side Sunday morning.

There's No Crying in Baseball

This post was to originally be titled "There's No Crying in Church" but...since I happened to run across a major league baseball team's manager and a few players this morning at the hospital, I couldn't help but to borrow a line from A League of Their Own.

I sat this church this weekend with my two oldest daughters and more than once teared up. (My husband is not religious and my youngest is not disciplined enough to behave in church so they keep each other company at home). There were no particular words that spoke to me, yet tears flowed anyway. In particular, my oldest spontaneously began singing the closing hymn very loudly and quite beautifully. She usually does not sing and it simply took my breath away. However, that put me in a position that I have been in many times. Sitting in a room full of people with tears in my eyes. Meanwhile, these people are unaware of my suffering and most probably do not notice. But it is uncomfortable nonetheless to be crying in public. Crying is such a private thing rarely exhibited in public. I hope this was an isolated event though I fear it was not. Many times during the end of my pregnancy with Wyatt I found myself at church with tears in my eyes. Those who noticed did not understand and of course, it only made me feel uncomfortable and weak. After Wyatt died those tears came easier and going to church became harder so I stopped. It is another stumbling block in my path and another something to figure out how to handle. I suppose I could picture everyone naked but that's not really appropriate for church so I'll have to give this a little more thought I guess.