At our old church in California, they had this nice parent room. It was pretty much like a little church inside the huge one. They had the service on a huge screen, lots of toys and coffee. I sat in there with Coop every week, and actually haven’t been in the church since he was born, nearly 2 years ago.
We’ve tried a couple different ones here in Virginia, and for the most part, they are much smaller than our old church. Of course they didn’t have the little overprotective mommy haven that I’m used to.
Sunday, we went to one that was recommended to us, and decided to let Cooper go in the nursery. He has NEVER been in a nursery on of any kind, and the only people he has ever been left with is our family.
We got to his room, and everyone was crying. These poor kids had snot dripping down their faces, crumbled cookies falling out of their mouths, and tears freely flowing. Coop was petrified and clung to me for his very life.
I decided to go in with him, and he eventually started playing with the toys. I stepped out, and 2 seconds later, I heard his heart wrenching cry. The workers convinced me he would be fine, and I should just wait a few minutes.
I stood in the hallway crying.
Not even the pretty little “I love my child so much” cry. No, it was full on “ugly face” cry.
I couldn’t help myself. My heart was breaking for my scared little man.
He finally calmed down and we went into the service.
(And at this point we were 30 min late)
We were probably in there 10 minutes when my nursery pager went off.
I have to admit, I was kindof happy.
I missed him.
I was worried.
I didn’t want him to feel fear.
He practically lunged into my arms when he saw me, and all I wanted to do it squeeze him, and tell him I would never ever leave him again.
(Even when he’s 16 and trying to go by himself to prom)