Guys, today was rough.
Sundays are typically rough around our household. We are blessed with an amazing church community that we get to see every week (well, I get to see them every day), and I cannot tell you how much we need that extended family. Especially on Sundays.
I have hooligan children. They are kind and sweet and all, but my goodness. I liken them to the Banshees in Darby O'Gill and the Little People. They spirit around, screeching, leaving destruction and desolation in their wake. This is probably due to a combination of a number of things:
1. They are boys. Snips, Snails, Puppy Dog Tails and all.
2. They are 3 and 6.
3. We live in very tight quarters. Not the environment for releasing productive energy. And everything they bring out makes our house look like the ceiling crashed in.
4. It rains here. All. The. Time. Therefore, we don't play outside unless I plan on doing a bushel of muddy laundry.
5. We probably don't have the best household consequence/reward system in place. Unfortunately, what we do is what we have always done, and it is hard to teach this ol' dog any new tricks.
6. My children have short fuses. You can thank my genes for that, kids. You're welcome. Now stop yelling. Mommy's head hurts.
7. I have one boy as stubborn as a mule and one boy as sensitive as a decrepit butterfly, so their constant bickering often adds decibels of noise to the level of general disarray.
So Sundays consist of morning worship service, in which my kids attend the children's programming. They also choose to take that time to roam the halls, play with the electrical equipment, search out new friends to meet, help themselves to the the communion elements (aka snack time), and run between the rows of chairs playing hide-and-seek/marco polo/tunnel tag/you-can't-catch-me/etc. It is IMPOSSIBLE to get them to follow direction. No matter how many pep talks we give, no matter how clear our expectations are, no matter how much they understand the rules, no matter how we deny them their privileges or reward their acheivments, we still have an issue. Unfortunately, I am supposed to be working at church, so the blessed task of Kid Rodeo falls upon Big Love. Big Love, who functions on about 4 hours of sleep on Sundays, is a champ. But, even as a champ, the morning is enough to send him to live with the crazies.
Sundays usually continue with a fight for what we eat for lunch, a fight against Quiet Time, a fight about what we do in the afternoon, a fight about dinner, and a fight getting to and from Life Group.
Guys, I tire of fighting.
So this is what I will do to combat a Sunday. I will saturate my mind in the things that really calm me down. So here is my guilty pleasure list, and some of these I feel not guilty at all about:
1. Hot baths. I mentioned this in my "thankful" list last post, but hot baths are made of the sundrops from angel wings. There is something about stepping into scalding hot water that releases me from the buildup of the day. There is a pure intoxication you get while sitting back, listening to a good book (yes, I listen to books on tape. Feel free to judge), and allowing the heat to lighten your weight, relax your back muscles, and sweat out the stress manifesting in your skin. Books will be written about hot baths. And I will listen to said book while in a hot bath.
2. TV. I wish this wasn't so, but it is. I can't do anything while I watch TV. I care WAY too much about what is happening. So I, therefore, allow myself to invest in un-reality (because most of what I watch I would never categorize as fantasy), step back from my own world, and look back on it with fresh eyes. My shows that I watch? Tuesdays: New Girl and Parenthood. Thursdays: Glee (no. I have no valid excuse to watch Glee). Fridays: Grimm. Sundays: Revenge.
3. Reading. I have been known to frequently read books of substance, like Christian self-help stuff, biographical stuff, historical stuff, blah blah blah stuff. But that is all just stuff. What I really like is a good British comedic novel. P.G. Wodehouse is my favorite author, and I could read his books until doomsday. There is something so refreshing about hearing the quarrels, tiffs, and conflicts of the likes of the British upper class. I have no choice but to believe that everyone from England is endlessly amusing and my best friend.
4. Boy Band music. None of this Jonas Brothers, One Direction, Justin Bieber nonsense. Nay. I mean 90's boy bands. The REALLY embarrassing dudes. 'NSync made my kind of music. I used to have a crush on Lance Bass, the bass of 'NSync. I had a crush on him because no one seemed to like him as much, and I heard him talk about his church once on a Disney Channel special. Then he came out of the closet. That pretty much shut the door on our inevitable romance and future children (Toby and Taylor). I realize now that he was likely the weakest link of that group vocally, but in matters of the heart, talent has no bearing when boyish southern charm and dashing good looks are on the table.
5. Musical theatre. There is not one bit of me that feel guilty about my love affair with musical theatre. I feel like our world could, if we tried, be a big musical. We could sing our feelings, it would all be in the right key, and everyone around us would do snazzy dance moves in the background. I think there is a secret musical theatre lover in all of us. I can't think of a single person who sees a video of a flash mob and says, "those people are the most ridiculous humans I have ever seen". No. They look at a flash mob and say, "I want to do that! I want to erupt into 9-part harmony and synchronized dance moves in public!" Oh wait. Now I know why I watch Glee.
6. Baking. I have never been able to cook very well, but if I set my mind and my stomach to it, I can bake like a champ. I can bake REALLY well when I feel the need to eat my emotions. Sometimes the only things to drown the stress of a rough day is to fill your body with fudgy, chocolatey, peanut buttery calories, fresh out of the oven.
Now that I am in a place of mental indulgence, feasting on brownies, vibin' to my jams, and about to draw a bath, I leave my computer and my stress of this day behind. Goodbye frown lines. Goodbye whining kids. Goodbye gray hairs. The dulcet tones of of mediocre book narrators are about to lull me to a blissful slumber.