We Don’t Brunch On Sundays

Over the weekend we did a lot of cleaning. We also had my parents over for dinner to see the house now that we have some of it put together (and to get some decorating advice from my mom because she’s the Bomb.Com). Honestly, it was a pretty mundane weekend over all. We didn’t do anything overly exciting. I didn’t know what to write for my “weekend update” until it hit me after life group last night. I’m going to tell the unfiltered absolute truth about how our Sundays are. You see, we don’t brunch on Sundays. I see Instagram posts from other bloggers and friends all the time where they are drinking coffee, getting ready for brunch, looking cute and cozy and relaxing with breakfast in bed. You know what I’m talking about, right? Those “easy like Sunday morning” posts. So, here are what our Sunday mornings look like with kids…

I wake up to one or two crying children. Jump up and change diapers and feed them. While I nurse Weston, Ryan showers and gets ready. I get ready and typically drink my coffee in the bathroom while I’m rushing to get ready. Sometimes I even chug it when it’s ice cold because I don’t have time to reheat it. It is most certainly as gross as it sounds, but it’s the only way I function. Survival, people. We tag team as far as getting the kids dressed and ready.

If we are lucky, our dog (I’m looking at you, Pippa) doesn’t escape while we are hauling the kids outside and into the car. Sometimes, she does and we have to chase her down. On the way to church we either sing songs or talk about church and get the kids all pumped up to walk into nursery like a boss. Sometimes it works and a lot of times they scream, but we try to do our best. Despite waking up at 6:30 after being up all night with babies, we are still normally 5 minutes late and, it never fails, we are always called out by someone. Honestly, I feel like we are good to make it to the 8:15 service most weeks. But, I smile and try to be polite. Sundays are hard. Last night I ended up in the nursery with my screaming Sophie who pitched the worst fit she has ever thrown. I’ve honestly never seen her act like that before. It was tough.

I literally laugh when I hear people talking about how relaxing Sundays are. Sometimes I long for the days that I could drink a cup of coffee in peace and leisurely get ready in the mornings, shower every day, etc. But then this little girl crawls in my lap, grabs my phone, says “cheeeeese, mommy” and gives me this:

…and it’s all worth it. So, for now, I’ll skip Sunday brunch, I’ll take my coffee to the shower, I’ll get ready with the kids running around the bathroom, I’ll sing all the way to church with dark circles under my eyes and I’ll flash that sleepy smile because this is our life and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.