Last night, as on most Saturday nights, I forewarned everyone that we were going to shoot for the 10:00 church service. TEN o'clock. We get up and get ready for school HOURS before that during the week so why do we have such trouble on Sunday? Part of it is because we try to get all of our chores done first too and of course we sleep later, but still. Ten. O'clock.
At 8:20 I told everyone we have an hour and a half so step it up. They did. Everyone tried. Everyone did a pretty good job. Not perfect but pretty good. At 9:35 I was the one that wasn't dressed, had wet hair and no make up on. This was partly because every time I'd get more than 15 feet away from Bunny she'd scream "Mommy!" This is not an unusual occurrence. This is typical. However, I mysteriously have not incorporated it into my consciousness and don't allow the extra time necessary for it. I don't know why. I should have by now.
Bugaboo wasn't feeling well and I told her she didn't have to go. It was my fault she was under the weather anyway. We'll leave it at that. Call me if you want details, but really, you don't.
I came out of the bedroom to check on things in general and found Taz with a pullover hoodie on over his button-up church shirt. I told him he should wear a different jacket. I'll spare you the blow by blow of the argument that ensued but in the end he wore his winter coat, zipped up to his chin and the velcro all done up even though it was 65 degrees outside.
BeeMan had on his red Spiderman t-shirt. I told him he couldn't wear that to church so he went to change.
At 10:00 we were still running around trying to get snacks for Bunny and a cup and find her shoes and get ourselves ready too. They give the kids Cheerios in the daycare room and since she can't have them we provide alternate snacks. But even when we do, she sometimes steals stuff from another kid or picks something up from the floor and eats it and has a reaction. But we finally made it out the door a little after 10. The church isn't far away, so we walked in at about a quarter after.
But before we walked in, in the parking lot I was walking behind PootiePie. She messed with her hair as she walked and since she has the skinniest @$$ ever, no hips and legs longer than a race horse, her pants don't ever fit and were falling down. I had already had enough of the trials and tribulations that come with raising 6 kids and getting them ready, and right in the church parking lot I yelled, "Pootie! I can see your crack!!"
Six steps later I noticed Snickety. He usually gets in trouble for wearing a t-shirt to church and in the car I had noticed that he had on a nice, striped polo shirt. What a good boy. What I couldn't see and didn't think to check was his pants. Now at the door of the church I see he has on high-water jeans with a huge hole in the knee and paint splatters all over them. OMG. I said, "I quit. We're never coming here again."
And BeeMan. I look at him. He had changed into his blue Spiderman t-shirt.
As we walked in, there were no greeters. All the greeters had gone in. Only one lone man stood at the kiosk to sign our tardy kids in to Sunday school. And just my luck it was the director of the children's programs who always remembers us a knows our names. It couldn't be some volunteer. It had to be the boss.
I took Bunny to the nursery an lo an behold, no Kitty Binky. No binky at all. The one thing she can't seem to live without and we left it at home. I said "We're going home. This is a bust." But we didn't. We stayed No one was struck down. No one was smited. But next week I'm making them lay out their clothes and get prior approval the night before. I don't want the church coming to us with donations as part of their outreach program.
