For my whole life I've gone to church every Sunday. And yes, I go to worship God and take the Sacrament, but I am also such a creature of routine that I go because that's just what I do-- I go to church on Sundays.
Since Lincoln has been born, Sundays have been hard and I haven't been to church a whole lot. For the past while I've tried to at least make it for Sacrament meeting since that's the most important part, but I had yet to make it to all three meetings.
Well, this week I made a goal to stay for the whole three hours.
We fed Lincoln and everything and he fell asleep right as we got to Sacrament meeting. Sweet.
He slept through Sacrament meeting and even through Sunday school. (A two hour nap?! CELEBRATION!)
At the end of Sunday school he started stirring. I had him in the front carrier, and I realized that I should maybe make a bottle so I'd be prepared when he awoke and was instantly hungry and screaming...lol. (Nursing in public is still a fiasco.) So, in the break between classes I sat there and attempted to make a bottle.
I could barely see what I was doing because Mr Tall Baby was strapped on my too-short-torso, but I pulled out the baggie of formula and the bottle. My friend (who has 3 kids and is seriously pro) was sitting next to me.
As I gradually caused more and more of a fiasco, she helped me more and more... picking up bottle pieces as they rolled across the floor, holding things as I tore open a corner of the baggie, holding more things as the formula poofed all over my dress and everywhere but the bottle (it seemed) because the hole wasn't big enough and I couldn't see what I was doing... and so on.
Dang that baggie.
She also reassured me that it was okay that I looked like a clueless new mom. :)
She made small talk while I tried to force the formula out of the too-small baggie hole.
She suggested I get a formula dispenser instead of doing the baggie thing every time...
Eventually I got that stupid bottle made and Lincoln woke up and everything was fine as he laid in my formula-dusted lap and ate.
...until he had a giant poop explosion that I'm sure echoed off the cinderblock walls...
... I gave up and left.
Another mom was in the mother's lounge where I changed his diaper.
She just had her 7th baby and told me a few tips that would make changing poopy diapers easier.
Told you I look a little clueless regarding this "mom" thing.
And that afternoon my friend brought over an extra formula dispenser she had and gave it to me.
Props to all moms everywhere who are functioning human beings and who ever make it through church on Sundays.