Our church was collecting monetary donations for a crisis pregnancy center in our city, which supports and encourages women to choose life. As a great collection tool, they requested donors to sponsor a baby bottle in which we were to collect our monies for the charity. We were to fill the bottles with our cash and bring them back to the church at a predetermined date. It was a great plan.
The boys were intrigued with the bottle and I discussed with them that it was “for the babies that needed mommies to choose to keep them in their tummies and love them.” Daniel accepted this idea and was ready to collect coins to fill it. When we would find spare change out and about, mainly Daniel and I would declare it was “for the babies” and Wesley would chime with a “dah!” which is his term of agreement.
The Sunday for our bottle to be returned appeared and our bottle was not yet full. The boys and I went upstairs to their rooms to pull some change from their banks “to help the babies.” Daniel, Wesley, and I gathered on the floor of Daniel’s room shaking the blue ceramic piggy bank in order to dump out the coins. They eagerly grabbed coins off the floor and shoved them into the bottle. I had to slow them down several times, and I also had to keep them from distributing some euros, which my brother had brought back from his travels, to the babies. The three of us bowed our heads and began to pray for the babies and the mommies. Seeing both of my babies with their heads bowed, eyes closed, and tiny hands grasped was precious. We all said amen, and then I put the plug back into the blue pig.
With Daniel’s bank empty of the coins we were able to donate, we traveled into Wesley’s room to raid his bank as well. I turned Wesley’s giraffe bank upside down and shook it, attempting to get out all the coins. The clinking sounds began to diminish and I knew the bank was almost empty. Once all the money was out, our bottle was full and we were ready to get into the car for church. Before we left the room, we repeated another prayer and my heart melted for a second time. My children praying for other children, even those not born, was a blessing. After the amen, I placed Wesley’s bank back up on the shelf and headed down the steps.
Daniel and I were downstairs and I walked into the kitchen for a moment. Suddenly, I head a loud crash, followed immediately by Daniel bursting into loud sobs of “NOOOO!! Whhhyyyy???”
Thomas had entered into the living room and firmly said “Wesley Reese, get down here NOW!”
My tiny little Wesley at the top of the stairs began his descent, on his tummy. He slid down the stairs so very quickly it was comical. I had to stifle a laugh. He looked like the character in a cartoon that is walking down the stairs when, magically, the stairs morph into a slide, and the character swiftly glides down to the bottom. Wesley was just like that, but on his tummy.
He was sent to time out and told not to move while I consoled Daniel. For all his craziness, Wesley does obey very well in serious situations, so he sat in the chair, unmoving, while I picked up the large pieces and Thomas vacuumed…..and Daniel cried.
When all was safe and clean, Wesley had to apologize to Daniel, which consisted of a hug, a kiss, and the words “Bubba saw-ree.”
In his defense, I do not believe Wesley intended to break the bank. He had no idea that it would shatter as it did. He was not necessarily in trouble for breaking the bank as much as he was in trouble for pushing something between the banister slats at the top of our stairs, which is a no-no in the house.
At least things all started well!