Truer words were never spoken.
Anyone who has many young kids will
commiserate relate to this post. I should add a disclaimer that we really value and usually enjoy taking our kids to Mass. It’s just that it is a HUGE effort many days. But well worth it in the end we hope!
There is some kind of phenomenon that goes on at our house on Sunday mornings. There are days during the week that J leaves for work at 6am and I’m out the door with 4 kids dressed, fed, and ready for school by 7:40am, and I make it to work on time too! (Of course there are those other days….) But then Sunday rolls around. Sometime getting out the door by 8am is a serious feat. Sometimes I do the girls’ hair at church. Sometimes I get a shower. Sometimes I’m not sure why everyone has such issues/meltdowns/mellowdrama/wardrobe malfunctions on Sunday mornings.
Here’s how we attempt to do Sundays. Key word: attempt.
Saturday nights sets the stage, we have a kind of routine. You know, the ‘ol everyone gets a bath on Saturday night routine. Yeah, we embrace it. All the kids take showers, simultaneously in both bathrooms. The girls are downstairs and G is upstairs alone, lest anyone see him in a towel *shriek*. J is usually doing dinner cleanup or cooking or prep, depending on how crazy our Saturday was. I get the girls in the shower and then start Ruth’s bath in her baby tub on the counter. I turn that water off and jump back over to the shower to wash, rinse, condition, and rinse hair again… x2 while Ruth chews on the shower curtain. I give Ruth her bath while the other girls head upstairs to get jammies on. I head after them with a wet oily baby.
Once jammies are on, we pick out tomorrow’s clothes. This is something I’ve done for several years now, almost daily. During the week, I lay out the kid’s clothes and that’s that. On Sundays they always seem to have an opinion or want to match, so we discuss, then set them out. I pick out Lucy and Amelia’s clothes (almost always dresses) and lay out tights or whatever goes with it, lay out Ruth’s outfit, and then usually pick out what I’m going to wear. I used to always lay out Gabriel’s clothes, especially on Sundays, but he’s to the point where he can do this himself. All we ask is that he wear a collared shirt and his church shoes. It usually matches 80% of the time, so he’s doing well 😉 This makes the morning SO much better as the kids immediately get dressed when they wake up. However, Amelia always has a meltdown. Usually a zipper she can’t reach or the fact that she can’t get her lip balm open (because that’s a Sunday necessity…for her), or she can’t reach her shoes in the window seat. *sigh* It’s ALWAYS something.
I always set my alarm for earlier on Sundays, with a vision of a restful night’s sleep, waking to prepare a hearty delicious breakfast for my family, then gracefully donning a cute outfit and skipping off to church with 4 squeaky clean and smiling kiddos. *Ahem* This DOES NOT HAPPEN.
Instead of actually getting up at 6:30 when my alarm goes off, it’s usually closer to 7:00 or 7:15 because my brain just never turns on on Sundays. ‘SLEEP!’ it says. This is almost always the only day of the week that Ruth will actually sleep this late. It’s like Murphy’s Law of Sundays. I don’t get it. Even if we do get up on time it still looks something like this:
So I dart out of bed and go to the kid’s rooms and turn on light, hollering ‘good morning’ and ‘time to get up for church!’. They do usually get up and get dressed pretty quickly. I rush around in the bathroom, alternating holding a fussing baby with J. Did you know that it IS possible to put on makeup and brush teeth all while holding a baby? But it is NOT possible to put on socks, put up hair, or put in contacts while holding said baby? Yes, moms do have their limits.
We send the kids downstairs to snag some breakfast while we finishing getting ready and it’s like WWIII. Why are we out of butter? Gabriel won’t get me a bowl! The door shut on my finger! My hair is in the syrup! Mom, I think my tights are on backwards! Sheesh. I’m telling you, Sundays only.
I finally get myself and Ruth dressed and J goes downstairs to corral the troops. Usually they’ve fought long enough that they each get 2 bites of some form of food. We tell them they can have a donut after church, just get in the car. Usually around this time Ruth will spit up all over me or I realize that she spit up sometime in the last 20 minutes. Again, Murphy’s law. G goes out to start the car while the girls get ready to go out the door. J is announcing ‘we have 5 mins until we need to leave!’ as if a time countdown is going to help. We’re going to leave when we’re going to leave. I don’t think there’s any helping this situation. We put Ruth into her carrier and she immediately starts screaming. She’s hungry. She probably last ate at 5, so it’s about time to eat again. Paci to the rescue.
We get everyone into the car and the bigs buckle themselves in the back while we buckle Amelia and put Ruth’s carrier in. Off we go. I multitask and pump while J drives and eat a protein bar. It saves a lot of time, people. Don’t ever look too closely into others’ cars. Just sayin’.
The kids whine for the 13 miles about being hungry. Luckily I usually grab a few ziploc bags of cereal on my way out the door so I toss them in the back. This makes them happy and I think they secretly put on the WWIII show in order to just eat dry cereal in the car and a donut after Mass. It’s all a ploy…. Ruth usually cries halfway there, then falls asleep.
We get to church, on time. I always breathe a sigh of relief right about here. We get in, take a seat. Then Ruth wakes up. J or I give her the bottle that I thoughtfully packed ahead (AHA! moment a few months ago when I finally figured this out–it only took me 4 kids to realize that if I didn’t want to leave Mass every. single. week to find a distraction-free place to nurse, that I should just bring a bottle of pumped milk. A lot easier than messing with siblings bumping her head or distracting her or messing with a cover.
Our kids are usually pretty good in Mass. But it’s taken a loooooonng time to get to this place and it surely wasn’t always like this, and we definitely still have our days. I took all 4 kids ONCE by myself and I gave out more side-eyes and ‘sshhhhh!!’ than I can count. Taking kids alone is not for the faint of heart!
Jeremiah says it’s not all that bad on Sundays. Maybe I just have too high of expectations. Either way we always make it, so that’s good! Just hoping others can relate to the Sunday morning craze. #thestruggleisreal