Overwelmed and Pooped

Today has just been "one of those days".  It has been a long weekend with little sleep and this morning the alarm went off as it always does when it is time to get up and get ready for church.  I moved into my routine of getting ready and getting the kids ready.  I was having to fight them just about on every turn to get ready and to stay quiet because Chantal was still sleeping off a late night of homecoming.  We finally make it to church and I am in a state of subdued moods.

When I pull Ruby out of the car seat I notice she is poopy and so I make a mental note of how I am going to get into the church, get all the kids settled, work with Lyman on his tithing he was excited about because of his birthday money and still change her diaper without having to haul all three kids into the bathroom to do it.  I decided to leave Ruby in her stink and help Lyman do his tithing and get our pew settled into the usual coloring and reading of books.  When I first saw Andrew I asked him to choose between going to change Ruby for me or watching the other kids while I did.  He picked watching the kids.

I went to change Ruby's diaper - tired and not entirely ready to wrestle the three kids during sacrament meeting that was starting in 10 minutes.  With Ruby on my hip I head into the bathroom.  A few things happened seemingly all at once - Ruby decided she was terrified of being laid down on the changing table (?) so she screamed and squirmed and didn't want to be put down, I noticed she had poop all over her outfit and legs, and I had poop all over my shirt as well.  It was one of those I-wish-I-could-disappear-to-a-corner-and-cry moments.  After cleaning Ruby all over and removing ALL of her clothes leaving her only in a diaper I tried to clean my own shirt.  No going.  So I remove it because I have a shirt under it - poop smeared too - awesome! 

I just wanted to cry and almost did.  Now I was having to get back to the kids and Andrew looking a mess with a naked baby and a shirt that is really more of a modest undershirt now stained with poo.  I peeked into the sacrament meeting room and waved down Andrew who came out and then came the tears too.  I had no idea what to do.  The obvious solution would be to just go home - I live 25 minutes from the church and so I would have just stayed home probably.  But I couldn't because Lyman was so excited all morning about how this was the Sunday they would sing happy birthday to him because his birthday was this week.  He was looking forward to it and if I went home so did all my kids because Andrew couldn't have the kids on the stand with him.  I just cried because I knew I was going to have to face total embarrassment over my own outfit and the nakedness of my baby.  I cursed myself over and over for not replacing that extra outfit usually in the diaper bag for Ruby. I asked for Andrew' jacket to at least cover me a bit.

I went back into sit with my kids and couldn't stop the tears.  I looked ridiculous in Andy's jacket holding a wiggling naked baby.  Words cannot describe how miserable I felt.  It is so hard to get ready by myself, get the kids ready and then to have to choose to sacrifice my dignity to allow my son a few moments of self esteem building in Primary.  After a few minutes I looked around and didn't see one of my friends yet and hoped that perhaps she hadn't left for church yet and thought maybe I can call her for a shirt.  I deposited the baby in a neighbor's lap and ran out to the hallway where I was met by the husband of one of my friends - holding his suit jacket for me so Andy could have his back.  I felt bad about having to make Andrew look silly on the stand without a suit jacket - but really what did it matter.  I declined it because Id rather be wearing my husbands than any other guys even with Andy on the stand. 

I ran to the other side of the church where I hoped to find this friend and ask her to go back to her home to get me a shirt (she lived close).  I stopped with another friend where I couldn't help but burst into tears again when I asked for her help.  She gladly offered me one of her shirts.  She was wearing one and a sweater over it.  In the bathroom I cried as she gave me her shirt and replaced her sweater over her.  I looked cuter now than I did when I came to church.  I couldn't believe how sweet she was.  Before I got back to my kids I ran into the husband of yet another friend holding his wife's shirt.  She was on her way home with a sick kid and left him her shirt for me.  I don't know what she drove home in.  I couldn't believe she would be willing to drive home shirtless so I could have hers.  When I got back to my kids in the pew, I looked decent - if you disregard my puffy, teary eyes. 

A few minutes later the friend who loaned me her shirt passed me her son's shirt.  She has a baby the same age as Ruby.  He was now wearing his sweater over a bare body too.  I felt so loved and taken care of.  It was still such a horrible day but Heavenly Father gave me such great friends who really came to my need at such a terrible moment. 

This is why I go to church.  Because I know this church is true, true in its doctrine and in its principles.  True enough to teach and compel so many people to literally give me the shirt off their backs so that I did not have to sit miserably in an over sized suit jacket.  True enough to allow me to support and sympathy from so many sources.  True enough to hear the first friend's husband (the one who offered me his jacket) offer the opening prayer at church and pray for those who are in need of comfort to be comforted - true enough to know and feel he was praying for me.  True enough to have a Father in Heaven hear those prayers and send me so many sources of comfort.