sunday: 1pm-4pm

These are not my good running shoes.

That doesn't bother this kid. In fact, maybe he prefers it that way.

Oh man, he was on one Sunday afternoon during church. Can you tell?

(selfies he took while talking and growling)

Even distracting him with my phone was not working during sacrament meeting.

So we walked the halls. Except he did more running than walking. Which would be fine, if the running wasn't for the purpose of opening the fire extinguisher cases and pulling the fire extinguishers (btw the ones at our church building need to be LOCKED), or escaping out into the parking lot, or ripping papers off of the bulletin boards.

There were moments of reprieve, like when I convinced him, even though at first he said "no kids", to come in with me into the other wards nursery to play for a few minutes. And when he took the task to try and open all of the cupboards to see which were locked and which were open.

But mostly he was hyper and ornery and much too big for me to grab and carry without tweaking my back. Which I did anyways and paid for it.

I was looking forward to primary. But he refused to go. There was more running away and even some knocking chairs over during the opening prayer. I sat with him. I pulled out my phone again. His primary teacher tried to coax him over. No go. It became apparent it was time to make our exit.

Once out in the halls again, he escaped my grasp. Oh I wished I had my running shoes on. I was pretty close to shouting down the hall for someone down there to block him. But my respect for social norms and quiet voices in the church building got the better of me. Though I made a vow to myself that if I ever see a little one running down the hall and the parent trying really hard to catch them, I would help them out, not step to the side so the little can run by.

My long legs and funny high heel run saved me instead and I was able to grab him just as he was stepping out of the foyer onto the sidewalk.

Eric finally finished with something he was asked to do for primary and took his turn with Perry. And so they sat in the car for over an hour.

I just needed to breathe. In and out. In and out.

We were at the end of sunday school and I waited in the hall for RS to start. I was talking with the RS president (a dear friend of ours). She had seen Perry bite me the week before and so she was asking about that and other Perry related and life things. And as we talked the things she said both validated my buried feelings and worried me for our future. And that's when I burst into tears.

I am really good at ugly crying. Red faced, snotty nosed big sobs are my specialty. And so I excused myself to join Eric and Perry in the car for awhile.

Once my face wasn't quite so red and puffy, I went back into relief society and soaked in a lesson on joy. How could I find joy in that day and that moment?

Well, it hit me that I felt a big dose of joy in the fact that I am part of a women's organization, called Relief Society, in which I felt comfortable enough to walk late into the room with crying puffy eyes and associate with some pretty amazing, caring, insightful women. I remembered how just a few months earlier when I was talking to my Relief Society president friend in the hall, it was she who burst into tears over some things going on in her own life. I felt grateful for Relief Society and the bonds it creates between women, who are varied in age, experience, talents, and abilities, but who are united in serving our Heavenly Father and developing charity and acting on it. In providing a little relief to each other and helping each other get through hard things. I don't have to put on a show or pretend to have it all together to be in that room with those sisters. I felt better by the end of the lesson and ready to keep going on.

And Perry was feeling better after his long break in the car, too.

And the world carried on.

Though, next sunday at 1pm, I might be showing up in the ever so fashionable pair of Nike's and a skirt.