How Pour Some Sugar on Me Got Us to the Church on Time

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

It was 5 o’clock on a cold and rainy Tuesday. Daddy called to check in, and tell me that he had to work late. That was fine, except I attend a women’s Bible study on Tuesday nights. On this particular Tuesday, I really wanted to go. It had been a long day with the kiddos, and I needed the respite and encouragement. Daddy would not be home in time to keep the boys.

Luckily, childcare is provided during the Bible study, but you’ve got to request it early. I made a desperate call, and the Lord intervened. Other kids were already coming - “The more the merrier!” they said. Perfect. “We” motivated. Cooked dinner, served dinner, encouraged eating of dinner, and cleaned up dinner. Gave the boys baths, got them all powdered and lotioned, and in their pajamas. Throughout, I pushed back the persistent thought, “Forget it! It is gross out. This will keep the boys up past their bed time. Just stay here, put them to bed, have a glass of wine, and wait for Hubby to come home.” I kept going.

At 6:45, we were out the door. Big Guy and Little Guy decided to play a game of chase around the car, so there I was, yelling and chasing in the rain. I wrestled them into the car, and Little Guy immediately started whining, pointing, and hollering for the school bus toy. I gave it to him, and he dropped it. I gave it back to him. He dropped it. With each drop, the fussing intensified. I got in the car, and swiped the wet hair out of my eyes. I took a deep breath, reached around, and handed Little Guy the toy. I backed the car out of the driveway, and we headed down the road.

He dropped it again. More screaming, and this time, I joined in. “That’s it! I cannot take it any more! Stop the screaming! Arrggh!” I fumbled for the toy behind my seat, found it, and threw it in the front seat. “I don’t care! No more school bus! Stop screaming!” The irony of the situation hit me in the face. I’m on my way to church, to Bible study, dragging my kids along when I should be putting them to bed, and I’m screaming at my 16 month old to stop screaming. What is wrong with me?!

I almost turned the car around in defeat. But the Lord intervened again, and gave me one last bit of patience and courage. I said, “I’m sorry, boys.” No one could hear me over the back seat breakdown. “Let’s try some music. Maybe that will help.” I turned on the radio, and Big Guy perked up, “Oooh. I like dat song. Turn it loud.” It was Pour Some Sugar on Me, by Def Leppard.

I turned it up. “Turn it LOUDER!” I obliged. I laughed, and felt my shoulders relax. I sang, and watched my three year old bop his head in time. I heard my toddler stop screaming, and turn to look out the window. We drove on, each in our own little world. The song ended, and Big Guy said, “I like dat song! Let’s do it again!” I reached back to pat Little Guy’s leg. He said, “Mama!” and I knew I was forgiven. I searched the radio for another song that met their approval, and we pulled into the church parking lot with heads bopping, and the radio full blast. Hearts lighter, attitudes sweetened. Thank you, Def Leppard. Thank you.

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