So, remember how I was in that limerick contest over at Diapers and Divinity? Well, thanks to you (if you were kind enough to vote for me) and Steph for declaring two winners instead of one, I have the coveted space on the side of her blog. And, she sent me chocolate. Which is just about the best thing anyone could do, am I right? So, anyway, here is my winning limerick about attending church meetings with not one, but two, squirrely toddlers.
My twin girls climb all over the place;
Now my dress is undone to my waist.
I guess that’s why Bishop
Looks like he might throw up.
Wish this closing song had a quicker pace!
Now my dress is undone to my waist.
I guess that’s why Bishop
Looks like he might throw up.
Wish this closing song had a quicker pace!
Sadly, it's a true story, and one that the bishop and his counselors on the stand are sure to never forget. Poor guys. Here's the longer version of the event, if you dare to read ahead. (Warning: this tale is not for the squeamish or anyone who has figured out how to keep toddlers quiet during Sacrament Meeting and thinks everyone else should, too. If you fall into the latter category, why are you wasting time reading this blog??? You have a fortune at your fingertips. Write a book and sell it for millions!)
SB and SW were just over a year old. Cinder was three, and I, well, I was tired. We were visiting my parents for a few weeks, and I had brought two dresses to wear during our visit. I had worn my black skirt and shirt twice to church already, and to a wedding, and a party, so this particular Sunday morning I decided to wear my button up shirt dress. I hadn't worn it for almost two years, because I was pregnant, and after the twins were born, I preferred skirts and shirts that did not button.
(You see, nursing twins at the same time is not only practical and quick, it's also tricky and not too discreet. Button-up shirts are an added frustration because then not only are you baring your chest to two little ones, but everyone else in the room also. And, forget about any blanket being discreetly placed over your two sweet ones and your babies. That would just be too easy, and at least one of the girls (I mean my babies, not my breasts) would complain.)
So, this dress. I prayed it would still fit. It was my best dress. Not because it looked good, but because it did not wrinkle and could be thrown in a suitcase or a basket of clean laundry for weeks and still come out looking fabulously pressed. And, lucky me, it still fit. I was quite thrilled, and continued my preparation for church excited that the "real me" was back. The me who did not have a parasite clinging to the inside or outside of my body. It felt fantastic.
We made it to church just on time, and, of course, mom and dad had chosen a bench right near the front. Knowing this was unwise, but not wanting to cause a scene, I sat down with them. If my parents wanted to show off their granddaughters, we'd show them off alright....with a commotion at the front of the chapel that would start when the snacks ran out and end with the 'Amen' of the closing prayer, or when someone (hopefully two of them) succumbed to slumber.
And so it began. The circus we call "worshiping in Sacrament Meeting." We all know it should be called "resource management, creative leadership, and try-outs for the wrestling team, sprinkled with a few moments of hearing someone speak into a microphone about something you wish you could remember." And, this day was no different. The twins kept crawling over me between Dad, who had the books, and Grandpa, who had the fruit snacks. I was just grateful for my parents' four extra hands to help out and had even caught a few words of the sermon. Until I looked down at my lap and realized that my slip was showing and three buttons on my lap were undone.
I quickly re-buttoned, and tried to think how the girls had managed to undo my buttons without me realizing it. A quick glance to the left and right assured me that no one else saw my undress, as they were all focused intently on the speaker (I'm pretty sure none of them had children.) Then, I tried to once again do the same. It was harder to focus, though. The climbing over and around me continued, but the girls were mostly quiet, and I was grateful. As the meeting was coming to a close, the climbing hastened and the sound increased. We wouldn't make it much longer without some creative leadership, so I set SB on the seat next to me, and leaned over to grab the big guns: Smarties.
As I leaned down, I realized that from the waist up, all of my buttons were undone. All of them. And hanging out were my girls (yes, that kind this time) covered in a well-used nursing bra that was stretched, ugly, and possibly a little bit see-through. I was mortified, and my first thought was, "Who saw this?" My second thought was, "I seriously need to go bra shopping." I quickly looked up at the stand, where right in front of me sat three men who were busy looking anywhere but at me, sweating at their collars, and all turning the delicious color of bright red beets. I was mortified, and quickly joined their face makeovers. Although, I'm quite certain that mine was a few shades darker than theirs.
Needless to say, I don't know what happened the last few minutes of the meeting. I do remember feverishly feeding candy to one of my one-year-olds and the mad dash out of the chapel as soon as the closing prayer ended. If I never see one of those men again until after I die, I am sure that will be too soon. Incidentally, that was the last time I wore that dress, too.
So, the moral of this story is: Don't take two toddlers to Sacrament Meeting. Okay, that is not really the moral, but I won't tell you it never crossed my mind. The real moral is probably: Test drive your clothing you haven't worn for two years in the privacy of your own home. And, pack more Smarties in your church bag.
Now, if you've made it this far, you deserve a prize. I'm sorry you had to read about the condition of my nursing bra ages ago. But, I did give you fair warning. And speaking of Diapers and Divinity, (okay, I know that was paragraphs ago) I have "joined" Steph's online General Conference Book Club. Each week we will read one talk from the previous General Conference, and then comment with our thoughts or inspirations as we have studied it throughout the week. I love it because there is no potential for embarrassing clothing moments. Follow the link to the GCBC here, and join us if you'd like. This week, we are studying "The Power of Covenants" by Elder D. Todd Christofferson. I must say I learned a lot last week with everyone's comments, so even if you decide not to join in reading, it's worth it to head over and gain some insight from the comments from last week as we studied Elder Holland's talk on the Savior's last moments of life.
And, while there is still more to catch up on, I am tired of typing, and if you are still here, you are tired of reading. So, until another day....
SB and SW were just over a year old. Cinder was three, and I, well, I was tired. We were visiting my parents for a few weeks, and I had brought two dresses to wear during our visit. I had worn my black skirt and shirt twice to church already, and to a wedding, and a party, so this particular Sunday morning I decided to wear my button up shirt dress. I hadn't worn it for almost two years, because I was pregnant, and after the twins were born, I preferred skirts and shirts that did not button.
(You see, nursing twins at the same time is not only practical and quick, it's also tricky and not too discreet. Button-up shirts are an added frustration because then not only are you baring your chest to two little ones, but everyone else in the room also. And, forget about any blanket being discreetly placed over your two sweet ones and your babies. That would just be too easy, and at least one of the girls (I mean my babies, not my breasts) would complain.)
So, this dress. I prayed it would still fit. It was my best dress. Not because it looked good, but because it did not wrinkle and could be thrown in a suitcase or a basket of clean laundry for weeks and still come out looking fabulously pressed. And, lucky me, it still fit. I was quite thrilled, and continued my preparation for church excited that the "real me" was back. The me who did not have a parasite clinging to the inside or outside of my body. It felt fantastic.
We made it to church just on time, and, of course, mom and dad had chosen a bench right near the front. Knowing this was unwise, but not wanting to cause a scene, I sat down with them. If my parents wanted to show off their granddaughters, we'd show them off alright....with a commotion at the front of the chapel that would start when the snacks ran out and end with the 'Amen' of the closing prayer, or when someone (hopefully two of them) succumbed to slumber.
And so it began. The circus we call "worshiping in Sacrament Meeting." We all know it should be called "resource management, creative leadership, and try-outs for the wrestling team, sprinkled with a few moments of hearing someone speak into a microphone about something you wish you could remember." And, this day was no different. The twins kept crawling over me between Dad, who had the books, and Grandpa, who had the fruit snacks. I was just grateful for my parents' four extra hands to help out and had even caught a few words of the sermon. Until I looked down at my lap and realized that my slip was showing and three buttons on my lap were undone.
I quickly re-buttoned, and tried to think how the girls had managed to undo my buttons without me realizing it. A quick glance to the left and right assured me that no one else saw my undress, as they were all focused intently on the speaker (I'm pretty sure none of them had children.) Then, I tried to once again do the same. It was harder to focus, though. The climbing over and around me continued, but the girls were mostly quiet, and I was grateful. As the meeting was coming to a close, the climbing hastened and the sound increased. We wouldn't make it much longer without some creative leadership, so I set SB on the seat next to me, and leaned over to grab the big guns: Smarties.
As I leaned down, I realized that from the waist up, all of my buttons were undone. All of them. And hanging out were my girls (yes, that kind this time) covered in a well-used nursing bra that was stretched, ugly, and possibly a little bit see-through. I was mortified, and my first thought was, "Who saw this?" My second thought was, "I seriously need to go bra shopping." I quickly looked up at the stand, where right in front of me sat three men who were busy looking anywhere but at me, sweating at their collars, and all turning the delicious color of bright red beets. I was mortified, and quickly joined their face makeovers. Although, I'm quite certain that mine was a few shades darker than theirs.
Needless to say, I don't know what happened the last few minutes of the meeting. I do remember feverishly feeding candy to one of my one-year-olds and the mad dash out of the chapel as soon as the closing prayer ended. If I never see one of those men again until after I die, I am sure that will be too soon. Incidentally, that was the last time I wore that dress, too.
So, the moral of this story is: Don't take two toddlers to Sacrament Meeting. Okay, that is not really the moral, but I won't tell you it never crossed my mind. The real moral is probably: Test drive your clothing you haven't worn for two years in the privacy of your own home. And, pack more Smarties in your church bag.
Now, if you've made it this far, you deserve a prize. I'm sorry you had to read about the condition of my nursing bra ages ago. But, I did give you fair warning. And speaking of Diapers and Divinity, (okay, I know that was paragraphs ago) I have "joined" Steph's online General Conference Book Club. Each week we will read one talk from the previous General Conference, and then comment with our thoughts or inspirations as we have studied it throughout the week. I love it because there is no potential for embarrassing clothing moments. Follow the link to the GCBC here, and join us if you'd like. This week, we are studying "The Power of Covenants" by Elder D. Todd Christofferson. I must say I learned a lot last week with everyone's comments, so even if you decide not to join in reading, it's worth it to head over and gain some insight from the comments from last week as we studied Elder Holland's talk on the Savior's last moments of life.
And, while there is still more to catch up on, I am tired of typing, and if you are still here, you are tired of reading. So, until another day....
Okay, that is some funny stuff! Hey, at least it didn't happen in your own ward.
ReplyDeleteIt is so funny that you mentioned the General Conference Book Club, I am sitting here waiting for El Guapo to get home from his meetings so that we can read an article from the Ensign. It is a new goal of ours, to read an article together each week. Maybe we will just read the talks suggested at D and D.
Hilarious!
ReplyDeleteI remember you telling me this story once upon a time. It's just as funny the second time around. Thanks for a good chuckle on a Monday morning. :)
ReplyDeleteThis is why I miss you! Thanks for the story.
ReplyDeleteI often wonder if there a real magic mind eraser (like in Men in Black) and we can mind swipe all those people who may or may not seen or heard something that was not in our best interest. I think that should be as top along the way during our judgment!
ReplyDeleteOkay...so what's my prize for reading all of that? Do I get some of your chocolate?
ReplyDeleteToo funny!
I have heard you tell this story, and I must say, it is still pretty hilarious!!
ReplyDeleteI was laughing so hard I was crying! I was trying to share with my family and couldn't because I was laughing. We all enjoyed at your expense, so THANK YOU!!
ReplyDelete