And God Said, "You Didn't Need that Latte Anyway"

Doug was gone on a guy's trip all weekend which left Adam and me home alone until Sunday evening. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, let me just tell you that 48-hours alone with a toddler takes me completely out of the running for Mother of the Year. I'm just sayin'...

Adam is not easily amused by things like toys, balls, a swimming pool, or bribes of food. He would rather take things in and out of the refrigerator, screw the cap on and off the soy milk, lay on the dishwasher door and play with the dirty silverware, or throw a whole box of cotton swabs around the bedroom. He also loves to be chased around the house, but now that we've added 280 sq. ft. it's much more of a workout than I prefer.

And speaking of sweat, it was almost too hot to spend much time at the pool. Not only does Carolyn the Pool Lady plant her name-calling self there 24/7, Adam also refuses to do anything except throw his shoes in the water. And wouldn't you know it... the text-messaging, iPod listening lifeguard had to tell me that's not allowed. As if my guzzling two Corona Lights in less than 30 minutes would impair my ability to figure that out on my own. But then again, what 39-year old couldn't use some guidance from a teenager?

Finally, I must add to the mix Adam waking up at 5:30 both Saturday and Sunday mornings and the summer cold that overtook my head Saturday night. You know, getting a cold in the summer just shouldn't be possible. It's like saying, "It's December! Put on your string bikini and go outside." Not that I own a string bikini, but I'm just sayin'...

So, with all good intentions, I packed up the boy yesterday morning and headed to Sunday School. For a stress-free arrival, we need to leave the house at 9:30. Considering the fact we'd been up since 5:30, you'd think four hours would give us plenty of time to get ready. But oh no...the diaper gods had other plans, and we didn't leave until 9:42.

Now, I've already written about my beverage issue. I do not rest - even on Sunday - when it comes to my beverages. Neither a cold, nor lack of sleep, nor an impatient toddler can come between me and my beverages.

By the time I got out of the oh. so. slow. line. at the coffee place, it was 9:51. Normally Doug and I tag team upon arrival at the church. He parks and brings the coffee, while I wrangle the kids to their classrooms. We then meet on the 3rd floor for our blissful hour of power, without someone hanging on our leg or wiping their nose on our shirt.

But yesterday it was just me, the Bible, the bags, the beverage and the back-arching, hair-pulling toddler who wanted to walk all by himself the half mile or so to the church. Just as I thought I had it all together and we could start the journey, my large, soy, sugar-free, hazelnut latte spilled all over the hood of my car. Not a drop remained. I tried salvaging even a tiny, little sip. But it was not meant to be.

By the time I fell into my seat in Sunday School, I seriously thought the message was going to start out something like this:

When you have ample time but still manage to run late,
remember the weak shall inherit the Earth.

When you think you need a soy, sugar-free hazelnut latte,
drink in the wisdom of God's word instead.

When your toddler attempts to lunge out of your arms in the middle of a busy parking lot, pray for a patient heart.

But it didn't. It was something about walking through the narrow gate when all the world wants us to walk through the wide gate.

So, when I got home I decided to walk through the pool gate. I needed a Corona Light, and Adam's shoes had a little bit of latte on them and needed a good rinse.