James had an early morning priesthood meeting, and then, as a complete suprise to the rest of us, walked in the door at 9:00 and announced that he had no more meetings today. Four entire hours of having Daddy home with us on Sunday morning! And I can't believe what a difference it has made!
We had a late breakfast of pancakes. OK, that would have happened anyway. I don't usually make pancakes on Sunday mornings, but Dallin begged. James walked in just as were were fixing the last batch. We actually sat down together (!) and ate a leisurely breakfast, with (almost) no fighting, just everybody chatting happily and enjoying the meal.
I cleaned up the kitchen and ran upstairs to shower. When I got back down, the house was amazingly quiet, the floor was clear (normally it's covered with remnants of pillows, cushions and blankets involved in the weekly fort-building ritual). The TV was off, and both kids were curled up on the couch next to Dad listening to him read a Church-related story.
Seriously, this is the stuff my Sunday morning dreams are made of.
I hung out on the computer for a bit, then fixed our late autumn nature table while James went upstairs to either sleep or work on a talk without interruption. We had a bit of arguing between the two youngest members of the family, but when the playdough got pulled out, the arguing stopped. They are both now seated at the table playing with their playdough while a scripture movie plays quietly in the background. (OK, Sariah is actually seated on the table... but at least they're having fun, right?)
Oops, just got interrupted by yells of "MOOOMMM!!! Look what Sariah did!!!" I guess it wouldn't be real without a few reminders of what daily life is normally like, now would it?
This just goes to show that I need to pray even harder that James gets released from the bishopric. Life with Dad at home on Sunday is pretty darn nice!
We had a late breakfast of pancakes. OK, that would have happened anyway. I don't usually make pancakes on Sunday mornings, but Dallin begged. James walked in just as were were fixing the last batch. We actually sat down together (!) and ate a leisurely breakfast, with (almost) no fighting, just everybody chatting happily and enjoying the meal.
I cleaned up the kitchen and ran upstairs to shower. When I got back down, the house was amazingly quiet, the floor was clear (normally it's covered with remnants of pillows, cushions and blankets involved in the weekly fort-building ritual). The TV was off, and both kids were curled up on the couch next to Dad listening to him read a Church-related story.
Seriously, this is the stuff my Sunday morning dreams are made of.
I hung out on the computer for a bit, then fixed our late autumn nature table while James went upstairs to either sleep or work on a talk without interruption. We had a bit of arguing between the two youngest members of the family, but when the playdough got pulled out, the arguing stopped. They are both now seated at the table playing with their playdough while a scripture movie plays quietly in the background. (OK, Sariah is actually seated on the table... but at least they're having fun, right?)
Oops, just got interrupted by yells of "MOOOMMM!!! Look what Sariah did!!!" I guess it wouldn't be real without a few reminders of what daily life is normally like, now would it?
This just goes to show that I need to pray even harder that James gets released from the bishopric. Life with Dad at home on Sunday is pretty darn nice!
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