Mothers' Day, Then and Now

Last Mother's Day, my first, I took my nine day-old newborn to church for the first time.  I can still see him tucked into his infant seat between the pews, sleeping soundly.  When they asked the mothers to stand, a lump rose to my throat as I looked at my tiny little boy and realized that I was now, 

indeed, a mother.  

This year, that little newborn is one year old.  I toted him into church so that my parents could have the joy of seeing their entire family in one pew together.  That lasted all of fifteen minutes, when I realized that my squirmy, squawky toddler was not going to be the ideal congregant.  I dropped him at the nursery, but ten minutes later was tapped on the shoulder by the pastor's wife who apologetically told me that he was inconsolable.  We are in the throws of the separation anxiety stage, and while he settles after a few minutes at his familiar church nursery, this entirely new environment with entirely new people was just too much.  So I spent the service chit-chatting with the pastor's wife in the fellowship hall as my boy flipped through a stack of Bibles.  

Gone are the days of a sleepy newborn in a car seat.  But the days of a spunky, busy little boy who is still happiest in the arms of his momma, twiddling my necklace, are pretty sweet in a 

whole different way.