Why is it that things never really turn out quite like you expect? Our church had a Lessons and Carols Christmas service tonight. And although we have still not perfected our 'Sunday morning plan' (i.e. the 4 of us never show up together), we went for broke tonight (in the name of Christmas) and took both kids to a 6PM worship service. And we ended up...well...broke. Emotionally, that is. I had visions of basking in the love, singing hymns, loving on my children in the glow of the giant Christmas tree.

I know how ya'll love the comedy of errors that is the Burch family and church so here ya go:

We arrived late, of course. Because, in the first time since I can remember G slept until after 5pm and then insisted on a full course meal--both of which are independently extremely rare. So, we are late, park in 'special needs' parking, and sit wedged in the back corner in 2 folding chairs. Let me give you a heads up, that 2 folding chairs are not enough to accommodate 2 adults, 2 children, 4 coats, and a purse/diaper bag/magic sack the size of Texas.

I kid you not, in the first 30 secs Lilah had already dropped 2 pacis on the floor and G insisted he needed a drink. Paul took pass #1 by the men to our right with G and I started the dig in the magic sack for 'something new' for L. Pass #2 back to our seats brings an already whiny Garrett asking if I had Cheese-Its, because everyone knows you can't worship without a snack, especially one artificially cheese flavored. I did not have the requested snack, but he finally decided a candy cane and some Teddy Grahams would suffice. Between the rustling of the sacks, the chomping of the candy, and Lilah sucking on her teething ring, we were starting to draw some looks. I can't remember the offense, but Paul had to take G outside for 'a talk' (pass #3 & 4). At this point L is lunging for some unknown destination and G declares he's ready for Sunday School. I ask him if he's sure, he says 'yes', and feeling like I cannot pass thru our row again, we walk in front of the whole church to the exit. We are not 2 feet from the nursery door when he drops to the floor crying, like I'm about to send him off to Boy's School (which, by the way, I am now thinking about). He makes a huge scene, I receive several "I'm sorry" looks from passerby-ers, and we head back to the lobby. Which was convenient, b/c Paul had already bailed from the service with L (pass #5 & 6). We commiserated for a few minutes before deciding I should retrieve our things (pass #7 & 8, I can not even make eye contact with the poor men in my row by this time).

I get coats, purse, and scattered snacks/toys and we decide to cut our losses and go. Just go. Better luck next time. At least no one is crying. Good try. Yada yada. We are suited up and out the door and we notice the unthinkable--we have been blocked in. Seriously, you park in front of someone who is parked in 'special needs'? What if our special need had been a medical emergency instead of just parenting fatigue? Not that I'm bitter:)

Anyway, it was more of the same for the next hour, at which point we were all hungry and super tired. But, we did get to visit with some friends at the end of the service so there was some redemption. Also, I'm counting it a personal victory b/c I didn't go crazy and scream at anyone. Parenting keeps you humble, no?