Afternoon Church

I had plans, you know?  Plans for this quiet Sunday evening while J-Man cheers on the Seahawks at FedEx Field and PDG sleeps soundly in his crib.  I was going to start making good on my New Years Resolution of eight posts a month.

Yeah, ok, I'm still posting, but a little frazzled.

Wanna know why?

Huh?

Ok, I'll tell you.

Afternoon Church.

So we Mormons call our congregations wards, and they have boundaries to keep wards of similar sizes and able to care for the needs of people within those lines.  Multiple wards can meet in one building.  And to keep things fair, the time that church starts for each ward varies.

Out where Big Bro lives, they change meeting times at the start of a new school year.  Here, we change with the new year.

Last year life was blissful.  Sacrament meeting began at 9am.  By late fall PDG and I would only need one trip down to the Mother's Lounge to nurse (and chat, let's be real), and after Sunday School and Relief Society meetings ended we were headed home at noon.

J-Man used to be impressed by the prompt beginning and ending of our meetings.  Different than experiences we've each had with other denominations.

Anyway.  That was last year.  This is 2013.  This year we get the 1pm-4pm slot, and boy-oh-boy is it rough.

The G boys over Christmas break

PDG napped briefly this morning, before J-Man geared up in blue and green while I lazed around reading the Sookie Stackhouse novels. He would've likely gone back down right around, oh, 1:15 for his next one.  Eyes heavy in his new convertible car seat (thanks Mama and Papa H!), we trekked the short ten minutes to the church building.

Sacrament meeting (the first 1:10 meeting) he was a gem.  Cruising along the pew, playing with his safari truck (one of few toys quiet enough for church - why must everything light up and play music?) he smiled and  flirted with other not-yet-overtired babes.

Then came Sunday School (which I teach once a month, but thankfully not today) and he started to unravel.  By Relief Society, the ladies-only class, he was not happy.  We survived, and other mothers assured me that it's just tough on kids his age to miss that nap.  Another March Momma ended up leaving for 15 minutes to rock her babe to sleep elsewhere and I'll admit, I had a pang of jealousy at her success.  I momentarily missed daytime nursing, since that might've done the trick.  But he wasn't hungry, just sleepy.

So rather than a fun playdate after church, we settled in for a short nap, followed by cranky time with yours truly.

Again, we survived.  He's asleep.  J-Man is headed home feeling victorious, and I'm still blogging.  Just a little more exhausted than a typical Sunday night.

One week down, 51 Sundays until 9am service again.  Not that anyone's counting........ :)