Sunday, February 17, 2008

Sunday, the day we rest

. . . but not today. To fill in a little back story, last night at midnight I was upstairs turning out lights and begging my kids to put their freaking books down and go to sleep so that church (and all things associated) would not be a disaster. Right, so.
Today went a little something like this:
Mom: Everyone up! C'mon! Outta' bed.
Mom: (10 minutes later) Kids. get out of bed. C'mon. Everyone up!
Mom: (9:05 am) Everyone! Get out of bed. I mean NOW! Don't make me come in there and drag you out.
5 kids finally mutter and grumble their way into the kitchen, at which point Nate decides that Sunday morning is the perfect day to incite riot from his brothers, and they begin tearing around the house using very loud and high pitched voices. Very loud. Did I mention the screeching?
Once the screeching begins, then the whining must ensue.
Ellie: E-v-v-a-a-n. s-s-s-t-o-o-o-o-p it! Stop touching me! M-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-m! (please everyone whine along with us now)
Rebi: Ellie, you're so annoying! Shut up.
Ellie: Rebi, stop yelling at me!
Rebi: I'm not yelling at you, I'm trying to be heard over Evan screaming!
Evan: (unintelligible joyful screeching at Nate or Ty)
Ellie: Why does everyone hate me? (or something similar and dissolve into tears. I always thought children became emo once they hit puberty, but I'm beginning to wonder if some of them are just born that way).
Mom: QUIET! Eat your breakfast. NOW!
Fast forward to 10:05 (we have to leave at 10:15)
Mom: Everyone get down here and let me see you!
No answer, more screeching from upstairs. Naturally, at T-10 and counting, I am
a) beyond frazzled my own self and
b) ready to do damage to any child not already fully clothed and ready to walk out the door.
So, I go to the bottom of the stairs and what should I see? 3 boys in various states of undress, none of whom have anything resembling church clothes on. More dialog? Sure. It goes a little something like this:
Mom: WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE? GET YOUR FREAKING CHURCH CLOTHES ON BEFORE I COME UP THERE AND BEAT YOUR STINKY LITTLE BUTTS!
Brilliantly, they ran and got dressed and we were on time to church.

Excuse me now, I need to go take a nap.

7 comments:

KA said...

This post will heretofore serve me as birth control.

frizzlefry said...

I believe I have done you that service in the past as well. You're welcome.

katzbox said...

This was funny...and it brought back more than a few memories...but let me be the first to say that Emily Slusser was virtually ALWAYS ready and looked adorable...she's been that way since she was a fetus.

scpcrath said...

Melissa, it is comforting to know that I am not the only one who goes through this similar scenario before church...I used to love going to church and now it is almost painful... the getting ready and out the door part. What's worse for you is that you guys have then had to sit by us the last two sundays. Sorry!

The Slusser Family said...

Ahhh.. yes. . .many, many memories. I actually remember one Sunday my brother wasn't ready for church and my mom left him at home. Correct me if I'm wrong, mom. . .but, I believe Eric was left at home. Serves him right - took him like 20 minutes to put on his shoes. .OCD be darned!
I also recall there being 6 of us, and in the later years, it took 5 cars for us to get to church. That is so messed up. . .but, we made it eventually on our own. I guess the gas stations loved us - it took $20 just to get us all to church!
Anyway, I thought your family looked darling yesterday and I would never have known is began like it did. Bravo, Melissa.

frizzlefry said...

Cari- you can't apologize for sitting by us. Your boys are great. When my kids were that age, they would scatter, and there were 3 of them, so we each chased different directions, one of us trying to catch 2 kids at once. Pure insanity. OK, so the insanity part hasn't really changed.

And thank you Em. I always wonder who notices me tucking Nate's shirt in and tying his shoes and tie after we are already seated.

katzbox said...

I can't believe I left Eric at home...