With a frustrated deep breath I strapped her into her car seat and hoped in the car. Before I even started to rifle through the church CD's to try and find a calming song to put on she started fussing.
I felt tired and hungry and highly began questioning why I must wait till she is 18 months for nursery. ?.
(With Jordan and I both having demanding callings on Sundays it makes it difficult with an active baby. I often times end up holding a heavy, squirmy baby while directing the entire primary for twenty minutes. She misses her morning nap and then we have to drive ten minutes home with out Jordan. And she always cries. The whole way.)
We finally pulled into our parking spot. I grabbed the baby, grabbed my bags and rushed inside!
I rocked her and only sang one lullaby and then lickity split stuck her in that crib of hers. She fell asleep in an instant and I laid on my bed ready to rest.
She had a good nap and when I walked in and saw her after she woke up, a smily girl with curly, flipped out bed head looked at me. I drew back her curtain and the sun fell through the window just perfectly and I suddenly felt a warm comforting peace. A conformation from my Heavenly Father that all is good. I have a healthy baby and despite the struggle of Sunday's, we are doing our best and He sees that. He knows.
It is bizarre the bipolar feelings a baby can bring to your world. So much tired frustration and yet so much happiness and love that you feel your heart might burst.
I smiled the rest of the day watching her run around with the cutest bed headed whispys bouncing up and down.