Sunday Morning

Sunday morning. Just typing that fills me with emotions. Getting all kids dressed somewhat decently and fed for 9am church is only half the battle. (Brian did start dressing Rylan in James’ clothes from yesterday. He didn’t even notice except to say, "This shirt has food on it." I ran over to look, wondering how his Sunday shirt was dirty before he put it on. "Brian." I said, "Those are James clothes!" It was a very snug fit.)


Once we start trying to load the kids in the van is when the real fun begins. "Everybody in the van!" I shout. That is the cue for the little boys to open the garage door and get every trike and bike and go cart and scooter and anything else out of the garage and take OFF. I seem to be surprised every time. I walk out to the van ready to go, thinking, "THIS week we will find a seat in the chapel!" only to discover that NO one is in the van.

"Reagan!? Reagan? REAGAN? Where is Reagan? Is Reagan still in the house?... Rylan?! RY-LAN!"  Rylan is down the road in the "only-goes-DOWN- the-street-go-cart". I walk down the street with a baby on my hip in my heals and skirt to get Rylan. As I go, I discover Reagan hiding behind the neighbor’s truck. He is on his bike wearing his helmet over his freshly combed hair. It seems I am always reminding him to put his helmet on, but today, the day his hair was combed and has hair spray in it, is the day he remembered all by himself.  "Hurry up and get in the van!" I holler to him. Off he rides.

I continue to walk to Rylan who is waiting patiently. He says he can’t ride it up and wants me to carry it. "It’s easy." He tells me. So, I start up the hill, dragging the no-go cart with a baby on my hip in my heals and skirt telling the 2 year old to head to the van over and over because I know he will forget. Then Rylan changed his mind. He wants to ride. "Push me!" Now I am pushing the 2 year old up the street in the go cart with a baby on my hip in my heals and skirt saying, "don’t steer into the grass!"

Reagan rides by me on his bike again. "Reagan! Get in the van!"

"I am. I’m just going here first." Zoom. Off he goes again.

I have lost my patience. "Come on! We are going to church! We don’t want to be late. Why did you put your helmet on? Put your bike in the garage. Hurry up! GET IN THE VAN!!!"

Finally! We are in the van and pull out of the drive way. I look over and there is my neighbor sitting on her porch. Lovely.

WHY do we do this? Is it worth it? I hope so!! Actually, I know so. Nothing that is worth it comes easily. I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true. I want my kids to know that too.