Excuse the Stain, Please

I recently began doing video annoucements for our church. While I was happy to be able to help my church, I do hate watching myself on the big screen. (Yes, I know I worked for years as a news anchor, but you watched me. I didn't have to watch myself.)

The first Sunday, I tried to bury my nose in the worship guide and read while the video aired, but since the lights were off, that didn't work. After church I asked Chris what if I just walked into church each Sunday after the announcements had aired, to which he sarcastically replied, "Yes, because that won't draw attention to you."

I hate it when he's right.

Monday we were about to shoot the videos for May, and I was in the bathroom freshening up my makeup. All of a sudden, I looked in the mirror and saw a dried glob of something disgusting on my shoulder.

My mind flashed back to the scene of the crime.

It was that morning. I was in the kitchen and we were ready to walk out the door when I heard a scream coming from my youngest child. In between sobs she wailed, "I dropped my juice cup on my foot!" I grabbed her and she buried her tear-stained face into my shoulder while I hugged her.

So that thing on my shoulder was a nice little mix of tears and snot from LB.

Nice.

I walked into the studio and explained what had happened and told the videographer that I really hoped you couldn't see it on camera.

Luckily, you couldn't.

It reminded me of when I was anchoring the news at Channel 19 after Ann Catherine was born. It never failed each morning that as I was dressed and ready to walk out the door, she would inevitably spit up on me.

I eventually learned not to put on my suit jacket until I got to work.

It makes me laugh. Only as a mother do you walk into work with Lord-knows-what on your clothing and act as if it's perfectly normal.

Because it is.

You are a mother.