About 6 years ago when we were living in ATL and had a baby WonderGirl, there were a one or two Sundays a month where the husband had early meetings and I was left to get myself and the baby ready for church at 9:30. If his meeting got out early enough, he'd call to check up on me and see how I was doing. Sometimes when I was exceptionally overwhelmed, he would run home quickly and help gather things up and take us to church. Where we would sit in a row with his parents - 4 adults and one WG. Pretty even odds, actually.
I thought about that briefly this morning while I ran around the house trying to round up this circus and get out of the door for church. I sniggered. Oh, silly new-mommy Reva. One child? 9:30? Helpful grandparents? Ha, I say. I haven't taken the same car to church with the husband in 4 years. Heck, I haven't sat with him in church for 2, and there are no sainted grandparents nearby.
I know there are people out there who could totally show me up. But I'm not thinking about them. I AM sniggering at the Reva who struggled to get a baby and herself ready for church, where there were family members with available arms to help out.
And you know what? This isn't even as nutty as when we both had 7:30am meetings and still had to take 2 different cars.
Here's to the Sunday Warriors!