Are you getting sick of me complaining about Sundays yet? I hope not. Will I ever get used doing this alone? I really hope so. I got to talk to Andrew this morning, which, of course, made me run late. Running late is the quickest, most effective way to stress myself out to the maximum. I HATE BEING LATE. And, like usual, the days I am stressed and behind are the days that I look the ugliest and change my outfit a million times, hence making myself even more late. Today I think I changed 5 times, to be exact. In the end, I threw on my frump dress (which I REALLY need to get rid of because the buttons don't stay closed and I am constantly looking down to see myself revealing my "true colors") and decided jewelry was unnecessary. At least the kids looked cute. Minus Eva's hair - that is still a beast I am learning to tame. Almost as stubborn as Eva herself.
We rush into the church to find that just about every single seat is taken. They had already started (they were singing the opening song) and I had to march all the way to the very front row...only to find that someone's stuff was there. Halfway up the aisle, the woman giving the opening prayer decides to overlook me and my yunguns still scrambling for a seat, and starts praying while I'm walking. I felt irreverent and disruptive already. Then they announced that I am a new RS instructor - YAY!! - and started singing the sacrament song. For some reason, I was embarassed and flustered and all of a sudden I was fighting back tears harder than I ever have. I wanted to break down and cry right there. I felt useless and unwanted. Not that it was everyone else's fault there were no seats left; it was just enough to tip me over the edge. It took me several minutes to get my composure. I just put my face in Eva's hair and tried to think positive thoughts. In the end, it was the man who was singing horribly off-key (and LOUD) behind me that distracted me out of my flurry of emotions. Thankfully, the man I sat next to (it was his sons' seats I stole) was so incredibly helpful and kind. By the way, his two teenage sons have the most beautiful brown skin I have ever seen, and if I was 15 again I would be drooling over them every Sunday. The dad is dark, dark like from Nigeria and very handsome, and the mom is white, so the sons are BEAUTIFUL. Anyway. I ended up taking the kids out halfway because I couldn't handle it. And of course, I found my dear friend Ana Rosa who helped me again, as she always does. Eva has taken to her quite nicely, and it is awesome.
We had a little nursery fiasco again, but I got to go to Relief Society and felt edified and uplifted by the time I left. I am really looking forward to next Sunday when my other half will be back. Church is indescribably easier with him around. And maybe to celebrate, I'll buy myself a new, non-frumpy dress.