Camille is fearless. FEARLESS. She slides down the stairs on her stomach. She jumps off of anything that will stand still. She climbs on everything. She swings from lights. She is now taking gymnastics, which is heaven on earth to her.
However, the one thing that terrifies her to her core is being away from me. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does, look out. She will go ballistic. She doesn't like people talking to her, looking at her, and DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT touching her. The drama is quite impressive. Or aggravating.
As a matter of fact, we haven't made it through a church service in about 6 months. After we take Mary Emma and Tait to their classes, we start heading toward Camille's class. Then the crying starts. Then the wailing. Then the screaming and clawing. And as I pry her off of me to go to the torture chamber that is otherwise known as the church nursery, I am covered in sweat, tears, and snot. As I try to straighten my clothes that have almost been ripped off my body, I walk toward the Worship Center and try to calm down and prepare my mind for worship. Not an easy task when your child is living her worst nightmare down the hall.
So we sit down, take a few deep breaths, and the service begins.
About 15 minutes later, whammo. Our security number flashes on the screen. You know, that number that means "Nursery teachers have had enough. Please come get your child."
And I failed to mention one little talent that Camille possesses.
She passes out. Cold. Unconscious. Flat on her back. She cries so hard that she literally passes out.
Oh, what a fun game that is!
Actually, she doesn't do it on purpose - she just can't catch her breath when she cries really hard and passes out.
Apparently, the nursery workers will put up with anything, except for unconscious children. Which means we get to take her to the nursery for 15 minutes, thus torturing her unmercifully, and then go get her and spend the rest of the service sitting in the lobby.
At least there's a Starbucks in the church. Because at that point, caffeine is a necessity.
Or a margarita. Which isn't typically offered at the average church.
Apparently, they've never tried to put Camille in the nursery, or it would be.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
And....She's Gone.
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11 comments:
My BFF has a daughter that would pass out also. She warned me when it first started to happen so I would be scared or shocked. But that still didn't prepare me. When that little girl cried so hard she passed out, I freaked out! She out grew it and now has a younger sister that does it. I feel like a pro now. So Camille can come to church with me and don't worry mom, I won't flash your number unless she doesn't wake up. Just kidding.
Wow. Bless your heart. My girl used to cry til she threw up. Not quite as scary but what a pain!
I do think a margarita bar at church is a grand idea -- just like we should offer one for teacher appreciation week in the teacher's lounge. So much stress on earth could be alleviated that way.
I know this is trying. God bless those nursery workers. Maybe they could engage her in walking on the roof to distract her from your absence.
This sounds horrible! We always had a cry room at church which means you go sit with your kids and a bunch of other kids and parents and pretend to listen to the service...because who can hear with all the crying!
But at least you have a Starbucks at your church!!
Oh my. Bless both your hearts. I know that is so hard on both of you. The margarita bar is an excellent idea.
I have been a blog stalker of my daughter’s former Sunday School teacher for several months. From that blog, I discovered many others, some from the town in which I live and many from different parts of the state and even other states. I have enjoyed reading the blogs, even if I didn’t know the author. It was interesting to read of remodeled homes, to relive the experiences of mother’s of young children and, in some cases, to share the pain of loss or illnesses of loved ones. Such are the joys of the internet. Another joy of the internet has been reconnecting with old friends from my original hometown, Amarillo Texas and my graduating class (Tascosa HS 1970).
Today, I come out of the background to request your prayers for the son of someone who I have known since elementary school. Marshi’s 24 year old son, Brian Lair was diagnosed with a brain tumor on July 23. He had his first surgery in Dallas on August 7 and although the doctors were unable to completely remove the tumor, the prognosis was optimistic. On August 25, he had to return to the Dallas hospital because his incision had become infested. A second surgery was completed on August 28. On September 2, I received an email from his mom, explaining that Brian was still fighting the infection, with high temperatures, etc. The diagnosis, treatment, and his relationship with God are all detailed on his blog: http://brianlair.blogspot.com.
He really needs all the prayers anyone can muster. Please keep Brian in your thoughts and prayers and spread the word.
Thank you,
Chan Roark, Dothan AL
I just have to giggle! Oh how I remember the days. Ditto on the margarita machine.
Funny post, you. Passing out would be a bit scary for the average nursery worker. If you church had margaritas you could give one to Camille and maybe she wouldn't mind the nursery so much....oh I kid. Take your caffine and know that this too shall pass.
You're so funny in the way you write about it! You can't take her into the church service with you?
Robyn, did you just say margarita? I thought you were saved... (:
LOVE how you handle these situations! I think I would've passed out instead of remembering to reach for my camera!
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