Sunday: Swim

I have done no yoga, stretching anything since Thursday.  THURSDAY.  I actually did not feel as poorly as I expected to upon crawling out of bed this morning.  My body recovered from the Tom King half marathon better than I thought under the circumstances.

This morning, though it was daylight savings time, I heroically dragged myself out of bed and readied the children for church.  I put Little G in a frilly church suit, my oldest son in a john john with knee socks, raked a comb through my hair and made it to service with only minimal tardiness.  Of course, up on getting to the church nursery to drop off my children, there was only one nursery worker.  Nervous Pervous that I am, it felt a little scary for me to leave both infant and toddler in a room with one nursery worker and other children.

I had two options here, and they were:  1) stay in the nursery with the nursery worker and help care for my children and others.  However, did I really get all of us gussied up so that we could sit on the nursery floor and squash Pepperidge Farms Goldfish into the carpet.  I really, honestly do not know what Jesus wanted me to do in this situation and the decision I made was my second option.  2) I leave my three year old with the nursery worker and tote the baby with me to the sanctuary and try my luck.

Trying my luck was not so bad.  The baby was pretty good, and when he really got the fuss, the service was nearing communion time.  I was able to hoof it out of the sanctuary to pick up my older son so that he could participate in communion.  The baby held it together and we made it through communion with only the minimal infraction of my older son dragging his toy robot up to communion with him and dandling it over the kneeling rail.  Compared to other church incidents in the past, everything ran pretty well.

Once home, I forced everyone into bed for a nap whether they liked it or not and sat on the couch until it was time to head to swim.  At swim we swam:

• 12 x 50
• 15 x 100 
• 800 pull