Sunday mornings

by Granny Girl

Sunday mornings ain't what they used to be! For more years than I care to count, Sunday morning was the most stressful time of my week. The responsibility of getting the whole family to church was all mine. Having four kids with a ten year age range, that meant a lot of wrangling. Ahhh, good times.

Some Sunday morning memories: Heading to one bedroom with a spanking spoon in my hand to convince the three year old that he had to leave his dress clothes on his body while arguing with the the thirteen year old that it was not my responsibility to make sure his favorite pair of jeans had been washed and making a u-turn in the hall to spank the thirteen year old instead because he sassed me one time too many! And yes, he was a foot taller than me at the time.

Here's another one: I laid out some very nice hand me down clothes for my compliant middle son when he was about four years old. The clothes came from a family of cousins who were all blondes, so they dressed in a different color palette than we did. I checked on him after a few minutes and he was just standing there crying. He said, "I feel like a fool in brown!" If I remember correctly, I let him pick out some different clothes.

Then there was the Sunday my frustrations boiled over and I was yelling at the kids as we finally all got in car and headed off. I said something like, "If y'all would just get in the %#*! car a little faster, we'd make it to church on time!" One of the braver kids said, "Now you've done it, Mama. Cussing on the way to church!"

But all that Sunday morning chaos is gone now. Hallelujah! I wake up to a quiet, peaceful house. There's just one kid to get out the door, and he likes church, so he happily gets himself ready. It's only a five minute drive to church. He gets out of the car and I don't see him again until church is over. Ahhhh. I love Sunday mornings!