Why is it so hard to get out of the house in a peaceful and orderly manner on Sunday mornings?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Yesterday morning PB had to be at church early so I got the kids dressed and ready on my own. This shouldn't be that hard a task because I've certainly had plenty of practice, but yesterday it was as if we were three strangers on the verge of a nervous breakdown and all the while speaking totally different languages.
Doc Brown was meltdown central with every little thing setting him off and Obi Wan-da was wandering around the house doing everything except attending to the simple task of getting dressed. In the midst of it all I was the wild eyed ring master chasing everyone down screaming, "Hurry up! We're going to be late for church! We need to go worship Jesus!"
Not exactly the ideal call to worship. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if my kids began to twitch every time they heard the word "church".
By the time we got to church my nerves were shot and I felt certain that someone was going to ask me to turn in my mom card. Before I dropped the kids off at class I apologized for hollering (again) and asked for their forgiveness (again). It seemed like a good time to explain to the kids that after a morning like that I really needed to be at church. They extended me a lot of grace and I could tell they were happy to be at church too.
So I did the whole cycle from being totally irritated with my kids to feeling like the worst mom ever to being wrapped in God's grace to being encouraged to get up and keep moving.
And I'm thankful that that's how the cycle wraps up. I really am but...
Could I please have next Sunday minus the irritated and crushed portion of the festivities? Pretty please with a cherry on top?