Sunday Mornings

Sunday mornings are so stressful for me. Every single week we make it on time, but I still don't know how.

I think things were easier when the kids were younger, actually, because I dressed them and forced them into their clothes. Now that they are old enough to get dressed, they won't.

I think they have secret sibling meetings on Saturday nights. The leader must say, "OK troops, tomorrow is Sunday morning. You know how stressed mom gets about being on time to run the projector, so we need to see if we can push her over the edge. We are leaving at 8:40. Tomorrow's plan is that none of us will cooperate until 8:30. We will lie around, undressed, refusing to eat until she is almost insane and then we will slowly cooperate and miraculously arrive in the van 10 minutes later ready to go. Oh yeah, and if she asks you to do something either scream and run away or stare at her blankly like you have no idea what she is talking about...."

I am suspecting they have these insurrection planning meetings often. While they have never actually pushed me over the edge, I have been hanging by a thread many times -- and many of them have been Sunday mornings.

Today we're going over to the Ranch to celebrate our son's 15th birthday. He has been doing very well.

Our other son in treatment is going through a faze where it is all our fault and is being very verbally abusive to us during the 2 hours and five minutes a week he is allowed to be with us.

Fortunately, Bart handles it very well. I just try not to visit when he's in this move.

OK, it's 8:35 ... time for me to walk through the house screaming, It's TIME to GOOOOOOOOOOOO!