Sunday mornings can be a little hairy in our house. Getting the kids breakfast, brushing teeth, sitting on the potty (Noah is always inspired to do this when we have somewhere we need to be), picking outfits, finding matching socks, packing up snacks, coloring books, etc...to entertain our restless kiddos during Sacrament, gathering manuals and materials to teach Primary, the list goes on...
Pat and I try to coordinate a schedule so that he's getting the kids breakfast while I get ready. Then I take over and get them dressed while he's in the shower. If we're lucky, we're out the door by 8:54am and pull into the church parking lot right as the opening hymn is starting at 9 o'clock.
But most Sunday mornings, we're not so lucky.
Take this morning for instance... The kids were in our room before the sun even came up. This has been going on for the last couple of months. They are waking up A LOT at night. Not sure why...but the sleep deprivation is wreaking havoc. Emotions are high and patience is low. I've heard that sleep deprivation is a form of torture in some countries, and I know EXACTLY why. Still, we have things to do, places to go, people to see, and on Sunday mornings, that means going to church.
Pat actually got up with them more than I did last night. My head hit the pillow and I was out until 3am when I heard Noah wailing "Mommmmmmmmy! Mommmmmmmmy!" Half-awake, I stumbled to his bedroom and opened the door to find poor Pat sitting slightly lopsided on Noah's bed, trying to shush him back to sleep.
That wasn't happening.
So just like last night and the night before and the one before that, my sleep-deprived self scooped Noah up and brought him into our bed in a desperate attempt to get a couple more hours of sleep. Over the next two and half hours, Pat and I must have been kicked in the face, stomach, and back close to 25 times. That kid was thrashing all over the place.
Abby finally made her appearance around 6:45am and squeezed herself into the tiny spot left in our bed between Pat and me and Noah (who was watching Max and Ruby by this time). Trying to salvage a few more minutes of sleep, I dozed off and on for the next little while until I heard the end of the Blues Clues theme song faintly in the background.
Crud...it was almost 8 o'clock.
Pat was still snoring (much like he is right now, sacked out on the couch while the kids are watching Pooh bear) so being the nice wife that I am (yeah, right), I took the kids down to get breakfast so he could sleep a little longer. I knew we weren't going to make it by 9am anyway, might as well have one somewhat rested parent.
In the meantime, the kids and I ate breakfast and watched the "Finding Faith in Christ" DVD. It's so inspiring...makes me cry every time. Abby and Noah had never seen it before and were just mesmerized watching scenes from the New Testament of the Savior performing miracles, blessing little children, and teaching the people...Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Rest...yes, that's exactly what I need.
As crazy as things have been around here with Pat's work schedule, teaching early morning seminary, kids waking up all night, walking around like a zombie, starting a new job, and just the day to day stresses, sometimes I am not sure how I am going to make it through the day.
But I do make it through and I am grateful...because I know that I am not doing this on my own.
The Savior is there to lift me up. He knows my struggles and knows that I am trying.
So as much as I would have liked to be at church on time today, there are days when we just have to do the best we can...especially when functioning on minuscule amounts of sleep.
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