Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Sunday Picnic (dinner #2)

My memories of Sundays:

As a child:
Church, resting, yummy special breakfasts and dinners, family, family bike rides or baseball games, long naps, and America's Funny Home Videos in the evening.

In college:
Sleeping in, Sunday brunch in the dorms, walking in heels along the brick sidewalks for 20 minutes to church, all the friends in the ward, after church dinners with the singles ward, meetings, being a the church for sometimes six hours (but that was okay), writing letters to missionaries back in my dorm room, going to bed early so I could get up at 4 am to do the homework I didn't do over the weekend.

Married without kids:
Sleeping in, walking to church along the same brick sidewalks, taking a long nap, having people over for dinner, planning the upcoming week.

Married with kids:
Waking up to kids screaming at each other earlier than they do any other morning even though this is the one morning we can sleep in (i.e., I have to wake my kids up most mornings at 8:20 am, or they'd sleep right past school. On Sundays, its 7 am baby), nobody getting themselves their own breakfast like they do every other morning, leaving an hour early for church so i can play the prelude music on the organ, kids making serious ruckus and giving Jonah an aneurysm while I helplessly watch from the organ, kids inevitably getting in a wrestling match on Sunday afternoon (Elsie included) and screaming (they swear this is happy screaming, but it still kills the peaceful atmosphere I'm craving nonetheless), me trying to take a 10 minute nap even though one of the kids HAS to talk to me every five minutes, kids making HUGE messes and me resisting the urge to kick them out of the house, kids telling me they are hungry every 30 minutes even after a big Sunday dinner (on the weekdays, they are NEVER hungry), Ana having to cram her piano practice in since she forgot about it all weekend, me finally being able to wrestle the kids (for the fifth wrestling match of the day) into bed about 90 minutes after their normal bedtime. Then, in the hour I have until I pass out on my bed, I try to plan the week, blog, etc. etc. If you REALLY want to know what its like, look up "pet capuchin monkey" on google.

Soooo, I wish I could say this was an isolated incident, but I've really come to realize that Sundays are by far my least peaceful, least reverent, most out-of-control day of all. I cannot figure it out. I wonder if demons come and possess my children on Sunday mornings. I wonder if the calm classical music I play on Sundays is actually laced with subliminal "seek-and-destroy" messages. But most likely, I just expect too much of my Sundays. So, I'm going to stop expecting anything. The other thing I think I'm going to do is plan out the entire day like I do the other days (yes, its my last vestige to be lost to micromanaging). We've got the mornings okay now because we set out the kids' clothes and nearly have them getting themselves their own breakfast (if only Elsie could change her own stinky diaper too). So, I think I'm going to write a schedule for the kids for Sundays. Like, 2 pm, come home from church and eat lunch. 3 pm, everybody in the whole house take a three-hour nap. 6 pm, eat frozen TV dinners in front of a church movie. 7 pm, Ana does her piano while Cam does some puzzles. 8 pm kids and parents in bed. Perfect. I'll let you know how it goes.

To remind myself that I actually still enjoy my children on a daily basis, here are some beautiful photos of their best talent:

Man, these kids are champion sleepers (except on Sunday mornings, of course). I told them on Saturday afternoon that they had to take a nap or else they couldn't go to the movie (Jonah's dad and mom came down from SLC to take them to the new Narnia flick), and five minutes later, they were out for two hours! I even threw some curlers in Ana's hair! What champs. They must take after their parents.

Also, have to throw this photo in:

Cam and his friends having a picnic in the back yard last week. Elsie crashed the party and ate all the cheese. She always crosses her legs like that. What a little lady.

Last weekend, we went to the Washington City Cotton Days Parade. Lots of tractors and lots of thrown candy. The grand finale was a fire truck. Even though Ana had to be reprimanded about 12 times about taking all the candy off the road before the other kids could get it, she loved it. Cam loved the fire truck. This is a perfect parade for my kids, because Ana wants to be a farmer when she grows up (raising cows, horses, corn and carrots) and Cam wants to be a fireman. Elsie loved the commotion.



Ana also had her end-of-the-year program. Ana got a little distracted and forgot to sing, but we love her anyway.


We also did our first official trip to the lake this year (Jonah goes all year long, but it was the first time the rest of us have gone). Elsie thought she'd died and gone to heaven with the shallow water to play in, super soft sand, and loads of seagulls (buhhhrd! buhhhhrd! buhhhhhrd!!!!!). Cam also practiced his Popeye face:
Hasta nexto semana.