We went to church on Mother's Day morning and, as has become ritual, we entered and had our quick family conference. 

Emily: I'll take Emmett, diaper bag, sling and find seats.

Paul: I'll take Ava Belle to the nursery.

Ava Belle: I want Mommy to take me, no, Daddy to take me. No, Emmett to take me. (We settle on Daddy.)

Then, we all split up. I find seats and sit with Emmett through a few songs, maybe one reading, and then he's had about enough. Or, should I say, I'm assuming the people sitting just by us have had enough. So, I do the 'excuse me please,' 'oops, pardon us,' and try and keep Emmett's sweet sticky hands from grabbing anyone's hair as we make our way out of the aisle and head to the "Room with a View," a special little room where mothers with babies who need a break from the service (for a variety of reasons) can come and sit and still enjoy through a large window and a speaker. By this time, Paul is just coming back down from dropping AB off at the nursery and that is pretty much how each Sunday goes. So, this week was Mother's Day and as I sat in the little room with all these other mothers I decided there wasn't a better place to spend Mother's Day morning at church. I must admit, most of the time in there is like a little party and, on occasion, we have even turned down the speaker because it was interrupting our conversations. We just chat and catch up, talk about potty training, talk about the latest and greatest teething toys, the marvelous advances made in cloth diapers and over these conversations we eventually open to eachother and share. We share lots of things. We laugh, get teary-eyed, offer wipes to one another. It's very special and I look forward to it every week. Then, when we see everyone circling around for communion we tuck our shirts and 'selves' back into place, see that our babies are stuffed snug in their slings, and partake in communion. I love Sunday mornings at church, and it was a great way to spend Mother's Day morning. So, to you ladies out there who I get to hang out with on Sundays, thank you for the extra hands when changing an unbelievably poopie diaper, thank you for encouraging me with your birth stories and listening to mine, thank you for not minding too much when my big boy pulls your little girls hair, thank you for the diaper tips and for the commiseration over lack of sleep. I am truly moved by your openness and delighted by your company. I thank you and Happy Mother's Day.