Sunday morning my alarm goes off at 6am. This is a whole hour later than it normally goes off during the week. One would think that the extra hour would make all the difference. Turns out, time is no friend to me.
I really try to jump up and take a shower and get ready before the kids wake up. It is really hard to get anything beautified when you have 1 kid peeking in on you while you are showering and another kid thinking your make-up looks as good on him as it does you. Really hard. I love to get ready, by myself, with my very favorite country hymn Pandora station playing. There is something about a little Alan Jackson singing “How Great Thou Art” that really gets me in the worship frame of mind. ( and all God’s people who love tight wranglers on a really good looking guy say AMEN)
Yesterday morning was quite honestly, one of the worst Sunday mornings we have had around here. John, bless his heart, (oh and the rule around here is that you can say anything you want about a person as long as it is prefaced with some sort of bless his something..ear..heart..toe) likes to get up early and head out to the church so he can pray with the deacons and quiet his mind. We all know he can’t quiet anything around our house.
That leaves me to wake and dress all 5 kids. By myself.
It usually goes something like this. Actually, yesterday did go like this :
“I can’t find my underwear! Mom..I can’t have my hiney showing..I will get in trouble!”
“Anyone have my other shoe?”
“I don’t wike this dress! I wanted to wear the pink one.”
“Honey, it IS pink. I refuse to argue with a 2 year old. Put the dadgum dress on.”
“Wake, you can’t wear the tutu to church. Why not? Well, for starters, you are a boy. And boys don’t wear tutu’s. I KNOW there are boy dancers, but today you aren’t one of them”
“John Bridge! Get your hands out of the toilet!”
“Mom! I’m starving to deafh. I weally weally tink my belly is growlin.”
“Fin is wookin at me! Make her stop!”
“Guys! If you don’t sit on the rug by the front door and stay sitting down, I swear to goodness I will throw all your blankets away and you will have to sleep with old nasty ones.”
“Brooks…please quit eyeballin your sister and just sit there quietly.”
“John Bridge! Spit that out. Right this minute!”
I tried to get a picture of them because they really did look extra cute in their clothes but it just wasn’t worth the headache. I have already clipped all the coupons for Advil I could find. Turns out they limit how many bottles you can buy at one time. Don’t ask me how I know that. I guess all good meth comes from Advil and Pepto Bismol.
Have a mentioned that it was raining like crazy outside yesterday? And that the van is too big to fit in the garage, therefore making me run each individual kid out the garage to the van? As soon as everyone was strapped in, I went to close the garage door and realized the opener was missing. Fantasticals. That meant that I had to run thru the garage, close the door, run thru the house and out the front door, ruining all the hair straightening I had spent an hour on earlier.
We made it to church.
2 minutes late.
Without shoes on half the kids. People aren’t concerned anymore. They freak out now when they DO have their shoes on.
My sweet friend Robin ran over to help me carry in kids when she saw juice cups and hairbows rolling down the parking lot.
The kids were happy and semi dressed.
My spanx were catty-wampus..my hair looked like something the cat had been sucking on and my shoes were literally cutting the blood flow off to my toes.
I did remember deodorant.
It’s the little things people.