Thursdays are My Sundays *guest post*

This is a guest post from my friend Tanya.

People always seem to swoon over the promise of Sunday arriving. It's so "lazy-daisy", it's so relaxing, it's the perfect family day...



 I read an article in a magazine about how Sunday is the IDEAL day to start some family traditions. Like...after having a leisurely story time and cuddle in Mom and Dad's bed how about a traditional family pillow fight!..
 I get all of that, and it sounds LOVELY.

However it's not that way for me. It's not my reality. My husband is a pastor. Sunday is game day.

On any given Sunday he is up around 6:45am and has left the house by 7:30, at the latest, and because of facility constraints we offer two morning services at our church. That's right folks, it's a double-header every Sunday. I don't begrudge this because it's our life, our chosen path. Clearly we understood when we signed up that Sundays were mandatory. It's kind of "key" to all of the work he's doing throughout the week...




 It's just that... I can very much identify with single mothers on Sundays! I am responsible for preparing both of the toddlers in cute, clean outfits. Getting them fed so they don't have major behavioural issues in the nursery.Packing the diaper bag with enough diapers, extra clothing, snacks, bottles and drinks...oops don't forget the wipes!!...to get us through until we return home again...also on our own.

Then trying to make myself look as if I'm still capable of effortlessly pulling it altogether in the few remaining moments I have before my lovely, wonderful friends come and pick us up for 9am. Yep... these are the moments where being a 1 car family is a...challenge...forced smile :)

Every once in a blue moon I'll end up having a car to get us to church on our own... at our leisure. Ahhh...I breathe a happy sigh Saturday evening thinking..."okay, no car seat transfers required, no under-the-gun moments trying to be ready for our ride as to... not keep them waiting"...

 Then the morning comes. Oh, getting there isn't as challenging as the trek from the parking lot to the check-in window of the nursery. First, maneuvering through a busy parking lot with a 2 yr old, a HEAVY 8mth old in a car seat and a gaping, open diaper bag that is slowly sliding down my arm...now I'm sweating...not attractive. I'm SO glad that the entrance to the church is on an inclined parking ramp! That's awesome!! It's SUPER easy to climb the hill in heels with all of my appendages. At this point I've had to pick up Mr.2 as he's proved to be a flight risk. No free arms now...very heavy...sweating. I get in the side door - closest route to the nursery - and face the flight of stairs looming before me. I literally HOOF it up the stairs...there are sound effects. I stumble to the top of the stairs and grab the door to the lobby...that's NEVER propped open...with my baby finger and pivot through. The diaper bag is as close to being on the floor as it can be...oh something's going to fall out...great now I'll have to go back and pick up a diaper...no such luck, because it's...a tampon that falls out!
PERFECT!

I flee with reckless abandon, no one saw it, someone will just see it in a minute and wonder how it got there. I realize I'm now galloping like a wounded horse and slow down...this is church! Mr.2 is still in my arms now being held only by his belt loop and his left ring finger...that can't feel good. Some well meaning soul passes by and cheerfully observes - "looks like you've got your hands full there!". I give a friendly smile and say something like "Yep, looks that way!" What I'm thinking though is...

"Actually I really enjoy this weekly balancing act that rivals the talent of any Cirque du Soleil contortionist...I wish I could do it EVERYDAY, because it really challenges my physical strength and ability and makes me feel young at heart".

 I know, clearly, not a good church attitude. The 15ft stretch I've traversed to reach my final destination - the nursery - is in sight. I breathe a sigh of relief. I check my children in. I leave instructions. I offer to stay if they need help. They ask how I'm doing and I say "Great!"It's almost as if I've won "The Amazing Race". I walk away with my parent security number in hand and go to catch what's left of the service I have worked so tirelessly to be present at. It's inspiring, challenging and uplifting as it always is. And although we are leaving, still minus a husband and daddy, I am glad we went. This is not a story that doesn't have a happy ending though...

Sundays are not "OUR" day, and we've always known it would be that way. It's challenging and different than what most people do on Sundays. BUT, I have Thursdays, where my hubby is off all day, and if we want to enjoy the spoils of what most people indulge in on a Sunday, like a leisurely breakfast out, we don't have to fight weekend crowds. Usually it is a very restful, laid back, lazy-daisy day. I ALWAYS look forward to Thursdays!


Comments

Patricia Ward said…
Just love this post Tara! I've watched first my mom, then my sister, and now you doing the 'Sunday morning boogie' and I'm glad you have so many followers so they can appreciate this post too!
Shash said…
Very good post Tanya!!! OH how I so related to everything you said there!!! :-)


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Show Me Mama said…
I am you new follower. come visit me at http://showmemama.blogspot.com
AussieMaz said…
Sounds an awful lot like my Sundays a few years ago, but we didn't have stairs and lived next door to the church. Now at least pw life is a little easier on Sunday mornings, the kids can get themselves dressed and breakfasted, and two of the three leave for church early with my husband.

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