SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY. . . .

Yesterday during church, Aleita was fidgety and never held a single position for longer that about 2.6 seconds. She has gotten to the point where she actually will sit (mostly) without talking during the service, though sitting still is another matter entirely. Chris and I refer to it as "Aleita wrestling." Before we left for church, he came in the bathroom where I was applying my makeup, held up his slacks to me, and asked, "Do these looked too wrinkled? Should I iron them?"

"Why bother?" I reminded him, "Aleita will only wallow you during church and it will be as though you'd never done it at all." Point taken.

Aleita started out on Chris's lap during the beginning of services, switched to sit between Chris and me in the pew, then ended up in my lap by the time the sermon had begun. Even while sitting in my lap, she shifted positions no less than 239 times, I am pretty sure. She intermittently traded off between making faces at our friend, Diana (who was of course, making faces back), sitting the next row back, and then snuggling up to me and rubbing the soft fabric of my dress between her fingers. Just about the time I thought she had settled, she would turn herself around again until she got Diana's attention, and then it would begin again.

Perhaps we don't do the greatest job of controlling her, but then again, "Aleita" and "control" rarely end up in the same sentence together anyway. And though she is restless, at the very least she usually does manage to go without screaming or laughing or talking or singing or any other loud outburst for the hour we are in church. For most four year olds, that is a miracle within itself.

So if you are interested in seein' some wrastling, you need not tune in to the WWE. Just come sit about the fourth or fifth row back on the south side of our church sanctuary this coming Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!