My dad invited Dad and Ty to the local NFL team’s home game. Dad and I were both apprehensive about taking Ty to a densely populated event, but we agreed that the football game would be a positive experience for Ty. It was on Sunday morning, so I took the four younger children to the church with me where I play the piano. My dad showed up a few minutes after ten o’clock. We all left the house simultaneously (in an orderly fashion because we can’t ALL fit through the door simultaneously!) and headed for our destinations.
The children and I arrived at the church just before 10:30am. Michelle, who was my labor support during the twins’ birth, was waiting for me. She gets first dibs on which baby she will take and carry throughout the service. I take the babies to church with me every week. She was happy to see that Kyle and Taylor, and she helped me unload. Inside the church, the people were greeting Kyle and Taylor, and their comments of “He’s so cute,” put Kyle in a bad mood. They didn’t know that Kyle is not cute; he’s tough. Or he’s cool. But he most certainly is NOT cute. And the grown-ups chuckled at his wallflower tendencies, which made Kyle ask loudly, “Why is everyone laughing at me?” That put the folks in their place!
Meanwhile, the three football fans were traveling on the expressway toward the stadium.
When the service started, Kyle and Taylor were very quiet, pouting. I worried that the congregation labeled them as “unsocialized,” being that they are home schooled. But they are 2 and 4 years old. I’ve attempted to teach enough 4 year olds to learn that they are generally not the most social creatures. Besides, what business does a less-than-six year old have to do in school? How in the world did sending tiny children to institutions away from their parents become the standard? But that’s anotherpost.
During the sermon, I usually nurse the babies. The children of the congregation go into the fellowship hall to have their Sunday School lesson. A teacher approached Kyle and Taylor and invited them. They didn’t want to leave my side. After I played the gospel hymn, I stood up to get Talon so that she could nurse. Kyle and Taylor followed me like ducklings would follow their momma duck. I walked into the fellowship hall with the three. The teacher was happy to see that Kyle and Taylor decided to go in. The lesson was on Matthew’s gospel, with an angel appearing to Joseph in a dream, telling Joseph to marry Mary, reassuring him that the fruit of Mary’s womb was God’s, and that Mary had been faithful to Joseph. Of all the places to be politically correct, I never thought that Sunday School wold be one of them. Three of the children in the group are bastards, and the teacher was trying to be sensitive to their situation. This was confusing Kyle. So I told Kyle the truth, “A man and a woman have to be married to have a baby, but Joseph and Mary were not married. Joseph didn’t know what to do. The angel told Joseph to marry Mary anyway. Got it?” The teacher looked relieved, actually. Talon fell asleep, and Kendall nursed.
Meanwhile, the football fans were approaching the stadium. It seriously is a long way!
During the last part of the service, Kyle and Taylor sat at the piano bench with me. We later enjoyed sandwiches and grapes in the fellowship hall. Taylor was being rude and gross with her sandwich, so I took it away. I’m so mean, I know. “It’s assuring to see parents stand up for what is right. These days, everybody just lets everyone do anything,” commented one of the men, a great grandfather.
Meanwhile, the football fans were unloading the picnic basket and having a grand old time with fellow tailgating fans.
When we arrived at the house, Isis was ecstatic to see us. I started a load in the wash bucket. Kyle was drawing “a map for Daddy’s game.” I saw that Kyle’s rivers were squiggles of blue, so I offered to teach him form drawing. He drew a wavy line across the page and another line just below his first line that followed the wave though not precisely, but with practice, his lines were much better. And instead of drawing a map for Daddy’s game, we drew wavy lines for two hours.
Meanwhile, the football fans were being frisked for weapons. Yes, even the six year old.
Kyle helped me wring out the clothes. He is strong when he wants to be. I was impressed! (Oh, yes. By the way, we got the wringer that we needed. It’s a two-person job. So instead of watching television as a family to bond, we can all do laundry together, which makes for stronger familial bonds – we think) Taylor watched Mary Poppins. She acts out all the scenes and dances and sings along to Julie Andrews. How can you tell me that’s bad?
Meanwhile, Ty was feeding off of the crowd’s energy. I can only imagine his enthusiasm, jumping up and down after a field goal or touchdown or turnover. They were sitting in Club Level, so they were close enough to see the action.
Kendall and Talon napped. Taylor and Kyle colored. I did as little housework that I needed to do because I wanted to spend time with Kyle – especially Kyle who never got to be the only child, who always had someone with whom he had to share. We drew trees, lollipop trees, sticks and circles. We drew more rivers. I showed him that changing colors makes it look like a river bank and grass can look like it’s growing on the edge.
When the football fans arrived at the house, Dad was tired, Ty was pumped with adrenaline, and my dad wanted to go to his house! Dad told me the list of food that Ty ate: coleslaw, sandwich, pretzel sticks, lemonade, hot dog from the concession, pretzel from the concession… and he came home saying that he was hungry. I made more sandwiches out of the ingredients that Dad had used for the tailgate.
We watched our regular Sunday show of “AFV” and “The Yellow Family” (The Simpsons). And the children all went to bed with visions of stadium seats, angels, crayon rivers, and lots of food dancing in their heads.
