Sign Me Up!

I have become extraordinarily involved in my church since I've had children. I carefully peruse the announcements in the weekly bulletin now, looking for two important words: childcare provided. It's not that my heart isn't in the right place. I do pray often "Get me out this house before the men in white coats carry me away!" "Use me Lord," and then get excited when an opportunity so arises.

Por ejemplo, when Stuart was only seven weeks old I was asked to teach Vacation Bible School for the four and five year olds. Less than two months after giving birth to number three, I was schlepping happily up to church every morning with all three kids in tow. People asked me over and over "Are you crazy?" To which I always answer in the affirmative, but that's beside the point. The point is, I got out of the house every day for three hours, dropped my children off with loving Christian women while I went upstairs to visit with my friends and sip on freshly brewed coffee and snack on homemade baked goods in the breakroom sing Bible songs with cute little preschoolers. I'd have been crazy not to!

Since then I've joined the choir, the young adult ensemble and agreed to serve on a preschool planning committee. I participated in the Christmas production and tried to join a sewing group until they found out I don't sew. I'm thinking I'll run into the same roadblock when I show up for the knitting and cross-stitch group, but it's worth a try.

It's not that I'm trying to take advantage or anything, it's just that sometimes it's better for everyone when my children are being cared for by trained workers. Otherwise I tend to worry. Like the other night, I had choir practice and left the two little ones at home with Daddy. No sooner had I sat down in the choir loft than I picked up my cell phone and saw I'd missed a call from Andy. I grabbed my phone, darted out of the loft and into a hallway to call him back, fearing the worst. Knowing he wouldn't have bothered me during rehearsal unless it was a major emergency, I quickly called him. Out of breath I stated*, as soon as he answered, "What's wrong!"

"Um, do you know where Catherine's peanut butter sandwich is?"

I checked my pockets and looked around my backside to make sure I wasn't wearing it. "Well.....it's not here so.....I guess I don't know."

"Hmmmm. Well she was looking for it. But she's eating pizza now so she seems to be happy."

"Mmmkay. Alrighty. Don't call me again unless there's blood or broken limbs Call if you need anything else." Whew, thank goodness for cell phones.

So see, sometimes it's just better if I pack the peanut butter sandwich and drop them off to play with their little friends in the same building while I do something rewarding and enjoyable.

It's really all win-win.

*Under normal circumstances I realize this would be a question. Under these circumstances it was a definitive statement.