Church at 1PM

In 2009, we had church at 9am, which I must say isn't my favorite.  I would like to have more days to sleep in a little, although I do get to sleep in on Sundays still more than the weekdays with the girls catching the bus at 7:30. 

This year, in 2010, we now meet at 1pm.  I like that and don't like it.  I like that the kids can have a decent lunch before church unlike the 11am time.  It does seem so LATE when we get home at 4pm.  I do like that I don't have to worry about waking the kids up, they just do it naturally when they are ready to, and I think I can get Samantha to take a bit of an earlier nap before church so she will be happier.  9am church was hard on her for that, disturbing her nap time. 

This last Sunday, which was our first Sunday going at 1pm here... I was getting ready, resisting since I had a super killer head ache.  I didn't really want to go, Emily had thrown up during the night, and Lauren was complaining of a stomach ache...  Samantha still had a nose like a dripping or slow flow facet, a constant line down to her mouth and sometimes farther.  (yuck) 

Robert had gone to his meetings and I was trying to feel better, I even took a nap before church trying to sleep away my headache.  Didn't really work.  I wasn't prepared to face 12  six year old kids that possibly wouldn't be listening and that have a tendency to get out of control.  I didn't think my head could take it. 

It was almost time to go, we had decided Robert would stay home with the sick ones and I would take Lindsey and Amber to church.  Amber was going into Primary so she was excited and I was excited for her too.  (She did great by the way!)  I chase Amber down to get her some socks and shoes on again. I debate on taking another 800 mg for my head but decide to just ride it out.  We get into the car.

I call Robert to tell him the racoon had been in the garage again...  (story for later) and that it ate his cake.  I am still in the driveway just backing out and as I turned looking out the back side windows to pull out on to the street I notice, Amber has NAKED feet!  I was SO mad!  (That is such an understatement.)  We were already on the brink of being late and she took off her shoes and socks.  As we got to the building, with me talking to her and being angry about her shoes and socks the whole 2 blocks drive, I then have a hard time finding a parking spot.  I finally find one, in the farthest row out there.  I am searching and searching for her socks and her shoes.  I find a sock and both shoes, but then can't find the other sock.  There are probably a dozen socks in the car, but none are the matching to the one I have in my hand, and none of the others seem to even match each other either.  Amber giggles and points out where her missing sock is.  I  b-r-e-a-t-h  in slowly.  I am thinking, this is not funny, no part of this is funny, I am ready to snap!  I take one more deep breath and decide we are already late, that was obvious, so I need to pull myself together.  I try to calm myself down, push my head pain away and relax.  We finally go inside, find a few seats in the overflow of the overflow chairs.  Lindsey is by my side and Amber is on my lap. 

Turns out, that church was more than I remembered it being with 5 kids.  Maybe because not all 5 were there.  Amber fell asleep in my lap and Lindsey was content sitting next to me with my arm around her.  I even heard what was said during that first hour.  I can't remember the last time I heard everything and not just a piece of this and a piece of that.  It tuned out to be somewhat nice really.  I could even feel the spirit.  Something that I am ashamed to say I struggle with as I am saying, "I don't have gum... leave her alone....  trade me places.... I told you not to bring that....  put the book down....  those snacks are NOT for you... give it back to her...  don't draw on yourself...  where did you get that....  give that to me!" and other things like that to the girls.

On the other hand, Robert ended up cleaning up Lauren's vomit off the couch and floor.  I would say I felt sorry for him, but I didn't really feel sorry.  He said it was really gross and looked like she had liver for breakfast.  I secretly smiled, glad that he got a good one to clean up.  I think I have done my fair share of vomit duty.  I did have to do the throw up laundry though. 

Only about what... 51 more Sundays to go?