Sunday

Josh works every other Sunday, which is only part of the point of this post. Today was a work day and as such I was on my own at church. Let me pause for a brief moment. Any mom who has ever done church on her own in any sense of the phrase: hats off to you. This is only the 3rd or 4th time I've done it and I'm ready to call it quits.

Before 7am I had showered and done my hair (curls! My hair is long enough to curl again!) and makeup and packed the church bag.

Then the kids woke up and it took me an hour and half to get them fed and clothed. But, we walked to church and got there early enough for a Bishop handshake AND a bench.

Church starts at 9, John usually naps at 9 so it's 3 hours of sheer torture. But today he was ready to go down for a nap as soon as we left the house.

Still, we left the house with everybody in their Sunday best, and the boys even had coats and there was a Sunday shoe on all 6 of our (collective) feet.

By the time we got through Sacrament Meeting though Tommy had ditched his vest and tie, and was working on abandoning his shoes. John had lost his shoes, socks, and pants (temporarily) and was attempting to remove all of my hair with his bright-orange-fake-cheese-cracker-stained pudgy fists.

The very kind old couple behind us pretended to ignore it every time one of my kids escaped under the bench to their pew, and they even said that didn't mind the crayon throwing. (I did mind.) It wasn't until we were leaving that I discovered that throwing was the nicest thing Tommy did with the crayons that hour and pulled one of his pants and learned about the magical cleaning powers of wet wipes. (Crayon does come off church pews....with a significant amount of scrubbing.)

While John and I wandered the halls so Tommy could attend nursery (the only reason I can come up with for being at church without Josh.) we left a trail of footwear. Later a nice young man stopped me and told me that he thought he just saw John's other shoe (it was missing?) in the lost and found in the library. The remaining sock was quite literally hanging by a thread.

We visited the library and retrieved the shoe, though it may never be worn again. (What is the point?) I tried desperately to get John to sleep, but he was too tired and cranky to even think about it and forbade me from sitting down. So we wandered. more.

The good news is that Tommy came with me without crying when it was time to go. And after we had lunch he came up to me and told me to "sit down onna sofa." I did. Gladly.

Tommy: "Mommy! I got a surPRISE for you...."
Me: "What is it?"
T: "It's in my legs."
He proceeds to strip and pull toys, books, refrigerator magnets, and today's coloring page from nursery out of his jammies. 

Repeat 89 times because I can't stop laughing at his creepy flasher line.

Sundays are hard these days. I hear very little at church and wonder why I don't pace in my own hallway instead of at the church. But I'm counting on that "creating good habits" theory and trying not to cry ALLL day long. It helps when my 3-year-old flashes me and forces me to read him books a thousand times in a row. 

In other news I did not make my bed this morning, divine intervention? I believe so. It is calling my name, which simply isn't possible when the pillows are all on top.