Well! THAT was a fun Sunday afternoon! It started with kids having breakfast late. As in 10am. Not a good thing with church being at 12:30pm nowadays. NOT a good thing at ALL. Y'see, I like to have the kids fed no later than 8:30am so we can give them a quick lunch about 11:45am. That way, their blood sugars are on an even keel and we don't have to deal with (so much) the crabbies as we sit through church. They didn't get lunch. They got a quick bite of pizza and I think one of them also had a cheese stick? In any case, not a good thing at all.

Then we're sitting on a pew in the chapel. I have a kid on both sides of me and I'm getting more and more irritated with their shoes that have velcro straps. They both keep kicking my legs and causing snags in my nylons which I hardly ever wear. (I will either go bare-legged or wear my industrial tights. Seriously - they're industrial because they've lasted over 10 years. Crazy.)

Along with this, my daughter is in a phase where she has to drape herself on me. I'm usually fine with that, but I've discovered that when I'm pregnant? NOT so much. I already feel crowded as it is but when somebody drapes themselves on me, it's all I can do to stop myself from grouching, "STOP TOUCHING ME!" (Btw - you should totally see Bill Crosby's bit on his kids saying that - hilarious!) Anyway, being a MOM, I bear it. No - I don't grin. That's just pushing things a little too far. She then starts getting offended because I don't want to color, play hangman, or any other games. I just want to LISTEN for once in church.

Through all this, my husband keeps looking (but I took it as staring) at me every time I would shush the kids or stop their feet from kicking. It just added to the fire and I whispered to him, "STOP LOOKING AT ME!" The look on his face was a stunned one... and I can laugh about it now although I don't think he can... yet?

After the meeting is over, he just takes off and I've got both of the kids to get to their Sunday School classes (Primary). Once they're in class, I finally felt like I could breathe a sigh of relief and feel like I have my own space. It's nice.

My husband told me he had a killer of a headache and so I offered to drive us home. My daughter starts griping in the car about how long he's taking and can't we just go home and he can walk home? (Nevermind it's pouring.) Over and over and over and over. "STOP TALKING TO ME!" is what came out of my mouth. 10 seconds later, she starts up again. She only stops when he gets in the van and we start heading home.

The point of this whole story? There isn't one really. More of a vent of how frustrated I was yesterday. Of how, I really need to remember the advice that I always dole out to my kids. "Step back. Take a deep breath and count to 10." I failed miserably at that. So, here it is - MONDAY! I'm going to keep repeating that mantra over and over to myself. Hopefully it'll make a difference. Because the next thing I'll be saying is, "STOP BREATHING ON ME!"