Bible Study Fellowship & Mama anxiety

I know that I am grossly behind in my postings and this interrupts the chronological nature of our blog... but this glimpse into my introverted psyche and evidence of God's grace and blessing is worth it. To the average person this story will seem overly dramatic. If you find yourself pitying me for my emotionally quirkiness, don't, because even though I may be a bit detached from that of the standard "path," I could not be more happy, content and thankful for the road we are on as parents and the way in which we got to this point. Also, this blog doubles as a place for me to chronicle events, big and small... so this story is heavy on the details in hopes that I can look back and see God's work in our family and me. 


I have been a long time class member of Bible Study Fellowship (BSF)... around ten years or so. In San Antonio I always attended one of the evening women's classes because of work or proximity to our young babies at home. The evening classes have a school program for children ages 6 and up but the daytime women's classes have a baby and preschool program for birth to 5 year-olds. Now that we live within reasonable distance of a day women's class in Round Rock, I sent in my transfer information to enroll, and last week (Thursday, Sept 15th) I got a call that the boys and I were placed in groups and we could come on Wednesday (the 21st).


It was currently Thursday, so that left about a week for me to get nervous, pray for peace, and repeat...over and over... the standard routine for me and anything resembling change or newness. It is probably worth noting at this point that we've never dropped the boys off, at any sort of establishment, with anyone, friend or stranger... for any length of time; mostly by choice. So, in addition to a new location and completely new people for me to handle, I'd also be dropping the boys off for the first time, with virtual strangers. 


I was given minimal information in my first phone call about the boys' groups and the preschool program. Despite being in BSF for such a long time, I have very limited knowledge of the children's programs beyond my twice a year volunteering in the older kids' groups. I asked for the Children's supervisor's phone number and started making a list of questions. I also emailed a friend of mine who has taken her boys to the program for a couple of years. Don't pass judgement, but I needed even the most basic of information... things second nature to a normal nursery-goer. I listed questions and over-thought everything for the weekend and on Monday evening I called the lady who oversees the preschool program. We talked for about twenty-five minutes and God used her to answer most of my prayers. I was so relieved and excited after speaking to her that I shed a few tears of relief. Just after hearing my name, she knew the names of our boys and where we were from. She talked me through the class schedule so that I could prepare Aaron as best I could. I also wanted to get the names of his two leaders so we could talk about them and he would be more comfortable. 


The other new challenge was getting all three of us up and out of the house by about 8am. One of the perks of being a stay-at-home mom of little ones, is that there is hardly ever a reason to get up and rolling in the wee hours. Plus, Aaron still likes to drag out his meals at a painfully slow pace. So, I had to device a plan to get sleepy-head Adam up and ready, and allow enough time for Aaron to eat a little bit and take care of his morning "business" that I didn't want his BSF leaders to have to deal with. 


So, Tuesday night came and I had all of our bags packed and ready... Adam's toddler bag; Aaron's little backpack with his name embroidered on it, carrying a change of clothes in case he got nervous and forgot to ask to go pee. The morning came and thankfully it wasn't all that difficult to get us out of the house on time. I allowed time for traffic on I-35 and time for parking, which we were advised ahead of time would be limited.  We got there early, which is not necessarily a good thing when dealing with little ones, there's a window of time and the clock starts ticking the moment the car stops. 


I carried Adam and the bags. Aaron, in his little polo shirt and combed hair, wore his backpack and held my hand as we searched for the correct building and hallway. I was, at this point, unable to hold back my fear/emotion/nerves but managed a few deep breathes and heavy swallows knowing that the boys react to my demeanor. It is difficult for me to explain beyond this... our boys are the greatest gift and I am honored and blessed to care for, tend to, teach, clothe, wipe, feed..... twenty-four hours a day... And of course I've left them before but usually only with Alan or a grandparent and that's not a big deal for me anymore. But these were people I didn't know, in a foreign place... and every thought I had swirled around the little nuances of their personalities, habits and methods of communication. 


I knew Aaron would be fine and he would "follow the leader" like a good boy and hopefully remember to speak up if he needed to pee. He is ready for a bit more interaction and I am thrilled that there is a place for him to go and get reinforcement on Bible stories and truths that we try to teach him at home. But Adam, is a clingy, dramatic, and emotional little punk and I couldn't even picture in my head passing him off to a stranger and walking off.... let alone doing it. So, I put if off and checked Aaron in first. Unfortunately the small area we were confined to was full of energetic children and their moms and grandmas frantically trying to keep them under control... so needless to say it was chaotic and not good for talking. So all I could muster was a brief introduction of Aaron to one of his leaders, and then he was gone. Through the doorway to hopefully learn more about Jesus and play well with others. It all happened so fast and I had swallowed my emotion the whole morning, that it erupted in a public display of motherly instability. I stood against the wall a few yards away from Aaron's classroom, with my giant nineteen month old holding on for dear life,  and had a minor breakdown. It was a culmination of a lot of things and emotions that need not be explained, probably a miniature version of the first day of kindergarten or, I rue the day, off to college. 


I am incredibly thankful for a wonderful older woman named Cindy who came up to me and somehow knew, with only a few words needed, what was happening and what to say to make me snap out of it and attempt to dry it up. So, I headed for Adam's door. One of his leaders was waiting at the door, put a tag on his bag, and verified its contents. Adam clung tightly to me. The moment came... I passed him to her over the baby gate and he immediately laid his head on her shoulder and I bolted. I'm not sure why, but at the time it seemed the best idea for him and me to immediately disappear. 


With a brief stop to the restroom to compose myself, I made my way over to the sanctuary for opening and to meet my discussion leader. I sat through discussion group, holding my cell phone set on vibrate, just in case. Checking every couple of minutes to ensure it was still on and functioning. I found it very difficult to pay attention during group and it was even worse during lecture. Lecture is about forty-five minutes, in the sanctuary with all of the women in the class. I sat near the door from which I entered, knowing it was the quickest way to the children's building. And once the teaching leader finished her ending prayer, I took off, second only to another mother who, believe it or not, appeared to be wound tighter than me. 


It was quiet in the hallway because we were the first to get over there, so I crept up on Adam's door and peeked in to see him sitting on the carpet, reading a book. He looked up, saw me, and got up and ran to the doorway. There's nothing quite like that feeling, like a simultaneous dump of adrenaline and dopamine, if that were possible. I was able to talk to his leader for just a second before the mob arrived, she said he cried a little bit but then got better. He had dry tear marks on his face and nose, but was entirely unscathed. 


I looked in Aaron's classroom to see him sitting in the circle, legs crossed, listening to the story. It was a sweet sight, a moment of relief, joy, thanks, and pride all rolled into one. Things got crazy fast in the hallway with children getting picked up, so we made a pit stop and then slowly walked out to the car. Aaron was quite eager to tell me stories, as though he had to get it all out before he forgot. "We sang 'Jesus loves me," and read Bible stories, had a snack and got to play outside." His stories continued well into the next day... some of them I'm certain, were embellished... Aaron style.


I felt a small sort of liberation as I walked away from the church with a child in each hand. Like I had accomplished a milestone in my journey as a mother, while witnessing Aaron's milestone and excitement. Hopefully next week will be easier for everyone, not to be selfish here, but especially me. I have a slight fear that Adam will now know what is happening and may protest... but I've got another few days to over-think and pray for peace. :-)


That night when I tucked Aaron into bed, we said our short prayer, and he said, "Can we say thank you for my leaders too?" It was one of those moments when God gave me a glimpse of the fruit of our labor, one of those moments that makes all of the other stuff endured that day, worth it.