A Sunday Morning Rant

Posted: September 19, 2010 in home life
Tags: , , ,

It’s Sunday and I just finished mopping and trying to get my eldest daughter dressed. Yes, at the same time because I have magical mommy powers. Actually, my eldest is four and can get herself dressed, when she chooses to. But this morning for no good reason she has decided that she doesn’t want to wear clothes today. Really? I’m trying to convince her that yes indeed she does need to wear clothes today, one it’s Sunday and church is clothes mandatory. “I’m hot today, I don’t want to wear clothes”, she says. I move her bangs to the side and check her temperature, nope no fever. Look, it’s really not an option you’re wearing clothes. Look mama this movie has ICarly in it from when she was little. The diversion works for a moment, Summer from School of Rock does indeed look like she might be the girl from ICarly. I’m a little disappointed I never really liked Summer from School of Rock but I do like the ICarly girl. I’m making a mental check to google it later when I remember Sunday, clothes needed, it’s getting late for church. Cat is of course looking smug because she knows my far off looks when I’ve lost my track of thought.

Why are Sundays always so hard? They shouldn’t be. My daughter didn’t want to be a nudist yesterday. In my perfect world all my housework would get done on Friday and no juice would be spilled on the floor til Monday. My husband would decide he didn’t have to work all day on Saturday, since he is his own boss, and could watch the girls while I touched up and had everything ready for Sunday morning. In reality he promises the girls we’ll go somewhere on Saturday, and then spends the whole day working on something he says he forgot he had to do. Meanwhile I have two little girls driving me crazy all day because daddy said we were going to McDonalds, or the park or deep sea diving and it’s all they can think of now. I can’t drive and even if I did he’d get all offended if I took the girls to the place promised without him. I know this because I’ve had sisters drop in on me and take us wherever the girls were begging to go to now please, please, please. We’d get back and he’d be all sulky and I can’t believe you went there when I was about to take ya’ll. Yeah, ok whatever dude. At around 7pm he pops out of his closed office door, notices that gee the house is really messy, Lyd, and asks if we’re ready to go. Well yeah I guess we are let me just get their shoes on and get their cups ready. He says “Tsk, yea go ahead, it’s getting late you know? We might not be able to go anywhere now.” Yea ok, because now it’s my fault that I didn’t know when you’d be ready to go by telepathy. And also because I’m not able to keep the girls in a frozen state of perfection all day. Everything was perfect between 3-3:30, I’m sorry you missed it. But, anyway, we go out and it’s 8 by now because he’s forgotten about an email he had to send out, and he had to have a smoke and one shoe was missing for ten minutes. We go out late come back late and of course the girls are too wired to go to sleep.

Sunday mornings stink because my mom and dad come over after church, all eyes. So I’m running around tidying up and getting the girls and myself ready. Sundays my husband sleeps in, wakes up ten minutes before its time to go and asks if I’ve ironed him something to wear. No, dear I haven’t because you dint put anything out last night like I asked you to. But there are clothes in the closet that have been ironed. “No, I don’t want to wear any of those where are my khaki pants? I really wanted to wear my khaki pants today.” They’re at the bottom of the laundry basket, the one with clean clothes in it thankfully. And they’re fished out and ironed while he gets showered and we’re fifteen minutes late getting to church, per usual.

Advertisements
Comments
  1. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Dan, Lydia. Lydia said: A Sunday Morning Rant: http://wp.me/p14INz-v […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s