'Mommy, Look! I'm a Zebra'

One week into January, and I had already thrown my resolution out the window. In fairness to myself, I actually set three goals for the new year, and I was still on track with two. The third resolution I made in the minivan as church was starting, and we were still two minutes away. Clearly, I didn't give this vow enough thought. Nonetheless, I resolved to never arrive late to church again.

The next Saturday evening, I walked into church five minutes after the service started. Now at this point, I know some of you are already tense at the thought of my lateness. What is wrong with some people? Why can't they just get ready earlier and not be late? I've asked myself the same questions many times.

In fact, we started attending the Saturday evening service because there was a better chance of us getting to church without my having to plead with God for forgiveness for all the yelling and screaming that happened as I tried to get my kids ready. After all, the kiddos would already be up, dressed, and not needing to be fed before I prodded them out the door. 

But I was wrong. The longer small children are awake, the more time they have to get into trouble.

Last Saturday, my husband volunteered at church as he does every Saturday, so I was left to get the four of us to church on my own. After throwing in a load of laundry, I looked down at the clock on my phone. Three-twenty. Perfect. I had just enough time to shoot off an e-mail I needed to get out before taking the kids upstairs. We'd have an hour and a half before church started.

As I was about to hit send, I heard the most dreadful sound:

"Mommy, look! I'm a zebra!"

And a zebra she was. My two-year-old stood before me with dark lines drawn across her forehead and arms and other parts of her body that I wouldn't notice until later. I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes, but before I had time to contemplate the process required to turn this four-footed mammal back into my two-year-old Chloe, I heard an equally dreadful sound:

"Look at me! I'm a zebra, too!"

Clearly, the toddler's power of persuasion was too much for the four-year-old as a second child emerged with similar markings. As I grabbed both girls and ushered them up the stairs, I yelled over my shoulder, "Caleb, get upstairs and get ready for church now!" I was in panic mode as my resolution hung in front of my face.

I worked my forearms into a fury as I scrubbed the marker (of course not washable, of course) off of foreheads and backs and legs and heinies. Once the zebras lost their stripes, I scooted the girls into their rooms to get dressed and checked on my five-year-old.

Naturally, he thought "Get ready for church now!" meant lie on the floor in your room naked. My panic level rose. "Caleb, let's go!" I screamed as flashbacks to past Sunday mornings surfaced.

I proceeded to help the two girls dress quickly and brush hair and teeth in the same time it took my son to put on his underpants.

"Oh, my goodness--Caleb, I'm going to put the girls in the car. Get dressed!" If I had two girls strapped into seats where they had no access to markers or scissors or paint, I could focus on my son and still have a good chance of arriving to church on time.

I picked up Chloe and noticed my four-year-old sitting on the floor. Good--Hannah Grace was putting on her shoes. As I started to buckle Chloe into her car seat, Hannah Grace made her way behind me and got into her seat. I ran back inside to check on Caleb. He was in his socks. 

"Caleb, hurry up! I'm sitting in the van with your sisters; grab your Bible, and let's go!" After five minutes and two horn honks passed, Caleb emerged, and we made our way to church.

I pulled out of our neighborhood when zebra number two spoke up:

"Oh! I forgot my shoes!

I gained four gray hairs at that moment. I made a quick u-turn, turned into my neighborhood, and parked, once again, in my driveway. One minute later, Hannah Grace returned with black, lace-up boots--clearly the easiest shoe to slip on when one is late. But I didn't care--we had to get to church.

Caleb began to re-lace the boots that his sister handed him when he asked, "Hannah Grace, what size are you?"

"I think eleven," she replied.

"These are an eight!"

I just rolled my eyes.

We arrived at church at 5:04 with one stripeless zebra, one boy stuck in la-la-land, and one girl with aspirations of becoming a geisha. It was then I decided this resolution was for the birds, and I went inside church resolving to be more patient.

How are your resolutions going?