I love Sundays. Sundays are the close to the old week and a birth to the new. Sunday mornings are quiet and peaceful. I wake to a tidy house that has been cleaned from the day before. The smell of pancake batter hitting the hot griddle awakens the little ones. A breakfast of homemade hot cakes, warm butter syrup accompanied by hot sausage links and fried eggs is eaten in peaceful reverence. Then the dishes are cleaned, kitchen straightened and children off to dress in their Sunday best.
Getting ready is a breeze. The girls have already laid out the dress they want to wear and after being button and zipped are off to get their hair done. Their hair smells of aromatic shampoo and is neatly brushed and put into braids or bouncy curls adorned with beautiful bows. Teeth are then brushed and stocking covered feet are placed in shiny church shoes. We arrive 10 minutes early to church and the girls settle in with their coloring books, scriptures, and notebooks. The meeting begins and the girls are attentive and well behaved.
After three hours of inspiring meetings we return home to the mouth watering aroma of roast, potatoes, and homemade baked bread. The girls help each other change out of their Sunday best, which is then hung up neatly in their closest. They return to the kitchen to help prepare dinner. The table is set, dinner is ready and we sit together to enjoy a Sunday feast while discussing the lessons we learned in church. Then like clockwork we begin to tidy and clean up the dishes from our meal. Each family member willing helps out and works together like a well oiled machine. The rest of the day may include naps, making cookies for the neighbors or visiting those who are sick or in need. After gathering as a family to plan our week the girls obediently get ready for bed and are lovingly tucked in.
Before I know it I am being nudged and snapped out of this day dream. I am in church and I have no idea what the speaker is talking about. Mattie starts to scream. She wants to play on my phone and wont take no for an answer. The girls are fighting over a broken crayon they found in the bottom of the bag along with the one piece of gum with a torn wrapper and crumbs stuck to it. My girls are not neatly dressed and their hair was attempted to be brushed but may contain bits of food from last nights dinner. As Avery lays her head in my lap the aroma of her hair smells of sweet and bed head. I start to wonder when was the last time I made them take a bath. I glance over at Mattie and notice that she is laying down on the chair with her feet up in the air. Her dress is hanging over her face, her Elsa panties are showing and her muddy cowgirl boots are loudly banging against the metal chair.
Hailey is now asking for my phone and I am regretting not being more prepared. I look down the isle and observe the family sitting next to us. Their children are quietly coloring and playing with their cute quiet books. "I am starving," Mattie announces. "I want a fruit snack!" "I don't have any food just be quiet and listen," I bark under my breath. Within a minute Mattie has scouted a family with snacks and is off to sit by them. This starts a chain reaction. Now the other girls want to go sit with other people they have scouted out in the congregation. More threats are muttered and I start to feel a mounting frustration. More whining and begging to get a drink or use the bathroom. Telling the kids they have to wait till sacrament is over is like denying them breath itself. "I can't wait, I'll pee my pants." "I need a drink so bad, my throat is so thirsty!" I check the clock to see how much time has passed. With only 5 minutes left I feel relieved, we will make it! The girls set off to their classes and with a partying warning I tell them to behave.
After two more hours church is over and trying to find our girls can be complicated. I walk the building occasionally stopping a neighbor to see if they have seen my kids. We finally get in the car and come home to the aroma of....nothing. I have nothing planned and am not in the mood to cook; I should have planned better. Matt heads back to the church to finish his calling while I scavenger the fridge for something for the girls and I to eat. Cheese and crackers will suffice. Some days it is more gourmet...we have grilled cheese, other days it is apples, peanut butter with celery or popcorn. Matt does not come home to a warm meal waiting for him on the stove. He looks through the fridge and decides on a peanut butter granola bar.
In the mean time I try putting the girls down for a nap. The mere thought starts a revolution. I finally get my way after massive threats and huge meltdowns. Within 5 minutes I hear Hailey crying. The girls got out of their rooms and were playing. Mattie and Hailey wanted the same toy.....Mattie won. Trying to use TV as a last resort I encourage them to play kindly with each other. 10 more minutes of fighting over dolls and I turn the TV on. They sit quietly and I sneak upstairs to nap or watch Netflix.
When it is time to put the kids to bed they are starving and complaining how they have not eaten all day. The basement is covered in crumbs from gold fish crackers and cheese stick wrappers. They whine about dying of starvation, so cereal is poured and the winning stops momentarily. Getting them ready for bed is a nightmare. Mattie refuses to brush her teeth and stay in her bed. She refuses to go to sleep and when I come in to threaten her she asks me if she has hair under her arm pits then proceeds to go use the potty card to get out of bed. Hailey does not like how her pajamas feel and needs to sleep in one of Matt's old t shirts. She needs all 3 of her toy bears to sleep in her bed and can only find one. She wants the light on and both she and Mattie want someone to snuggle them. Avery goes to bed but is in her room quietly drawing. I tell her "lights out," and I know she will stay up drawing for another hour, but that is a battle I choose not to deal with.
Hours later the kids are actually asleep. Laying in bed I try and plan my week. It's a new week I have the same goals and yet in the back of my mind I doubt I will accomplish these goals. First thing Monday my week will start to feel like the reality show Survivor and I pray we make it till the weekend. Then Sunday rolls around we are late for church again and heads turn as we make the walk of shame across the gym floor to the metal seats. My mind starts to drift and I can't help but think about how I need to get it together. All the things I am not doing that I need to do. Why cant our lives be more like the Jones's? I look down the row and my girls are being quiet for now. Further down the row our neighbor kid is screaming and crying over a broken crayon and it makes me smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment