Sunday Mornings

I have a love/hate relationship with 1:00 church. I love it when I can get my trash together--iron all clothes, bathe, get ready, throw dinner in a crock pot, clean up, leave early for church, enjoy church and come home to a clean house with dinner ready. I hate it when I don't have my trash together--scramble for hours for something decent to wear, rummage the cupboards for dinner, hurriedly dress Will in any shirt that doesn't need to be ironed, bark at Will to eat his lunch, get his shoes on and get in the car because we are going to be late again and then come home to a house in shambles and nothing to eat, feel far too exhausted to make anything but breakfast for dinner and neglect the dishes until the next day. Unfortunately, my Sunday mornings tend to be more like the latter than the former (in fact, one Sunday not too long ago, I ran out of the house in such a rush I forgot to feed Will lunch. We were sitting in church and he started crying, "I want a sandwich. I want a sandwich!" What kind of mother am I? Please don't call Child Protective Services on me).

This Sunday, however, I had it together, so much so that we even had a chance to enjoy some jump around time in our Sunday clothes (of course, we ended up being barely on time for church because Will had to go to the bathroom right as we were about to leave and he takes forever to go to the bathroom--like three stories, lots of encouraging, some "I just need a little privacy" time and then, of course, the "Come wipe me" time as well). So, during our jump around time, I had to snap some photos for the good ol' blog--not only because he was so cute but also so that I could document that I was, at least once this year, on time for church. (It may never happen again).