Hats That Don't Fit

I wear a few hats around here: the Mommy Hat, the Wife Hat, the Teacher Hat, the Friend Hat. And I've worn lots of other hats over the years. Today I've put on a few hats that don't fit so well.

This morning I found myself in the 3s and 4s room at Sunday School. Alone because my husband was at home in bed (I'll get to that in a moment). I was in the 3s and 4s room by myself because I made a rash deal with a friend. We'll be on vacation on Sunday in a couple of weeks (if my husband is not still in bed, but like I said, I'll get to that in a moment) when we are supposed to be teaching our K-2nd grade class. Since I'm such a great volunteer, I decided to get a replacement instead of leaving the leaders hanging. So I traded weeks with a friend whose gifts obviously differ from mine greatly.

I know I've mentioned before that I am not a little kid person. I've never felt more strongly about this than I did this morning. There were only 9 of them. I've had 27 high school students in one class before. I even had one high school student who came in sporting his house arrest ankle thingy. But these were 3 and 4-year-olds.

It took a good 15 mintues to get them all sitting at their little mini-table. Once I would get two of them sitting and turn to round up the other 7, the two would escape. I finally got them all seated and tried the ol' "Let me see your listening ears" thing that works beautifully with my kindergarteners. Blank stares. And lots of fidgets. And noise. I passed out paper to dutifully complete the Bible lesson. They were supposed to draw stick figure disciples, but before the words "stick" and "figures" could escape my mouth, most of them had already scribbled all over the paper. I tried in vain to get them to flip the paper over for the stick figures. More scribbles. I told the Bible story very loudly to myself. Then broke out the Goldfish. Magic. Quiet for a few minutes.

Until the potty breaks began. I sent the first one in to the bathroom. A few minutes passed, and then I heard, "Will you help meee???!" I went in to the bathroom. "Can you wipe me?" "Can't you wipe yourself?" I asked, while my head voice said, Please, oh please, can't you wipe yourself?? "But it's poo-poo!" Oh. No. Not. Poo. Poo.

OK, confession time. In my whole life, I have only ever changed one poo poo diaper that was not my own kids'. With other people's kids, I don't do poo poo. I can't do poo poo. PLEASE don't make me do poo poo. It was indeed poo poo. I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, tried to only look well enough to wipe and went in.

I made it. Then the same kid came up to me a little later on. "I have a booger." Are you kidding me??! I handed her a Kleenex. She stared at me blankly. I wiped her nose.

NOW do you see why I chose to go into secondary education? Please, please don't ever make me wear the 3s and 4s hat again.

The other hat I tried to squeeze into today is that of the Real Wife. You know, the wife that provides healthy meals everyday for her family? My husband is in bed. Flat out due to a herniated disk which has almost completely debilitated him. If you'll remember, he's the cook in the family. Really, I can cook, and I do cook when he's traveling. But to provide meals for him too? Well, mac and cheese just doesn't cut it for him. It's a little intimidating to cook for him. There I said it. There's nothing else about my sweet, wonderful husband that intimidates me but that.

So I've been planning meals for the week, always thinking in the back of my head that his brother may show up for dinner tomorrow night. Which is even more intimidating. I may cook gourmet pizza a la Little Caesars just to get out of it. I'm hoping and praying his back feels better soon so that I can hang the Real Wife Hat up. And so we can go on our planned Florida vacation. Oh, and so he's not in so much pain anymore either.