Getting to church on time

Has everyone heard of "Mormon Standard Time"? For those who havn't, it means that since the thing starts at 9 (or what have you) that getting there at 9:10 will still be acceptable. Church activities have been known to get into full swing a half an hour after the appointed beginning time. Church dances average a full hour of lateness. For church itself, our leaders have asked that we arrive 10 mins early so we can find our seats and be prepared for the actual start time of the meeting. Oh ho, let's see if we can obey this wise counsel, shall we?

This morning I hit my snooze button several times after the alarm went off at 7, trying to wake up after staying up too late reading. Man came in to inform me that he needed to be at church at 8:30 to sing with the choir, so... would he be needing to take the other car? Yep. It was 7:50, at least, before I had gotten out of bed, changed two diapers, fed the baby, and gathered my clothing for a shower. Then I remembered how long it had been since I last shaved my legs, and I didn't own a skirt long enough to cover up that crime again society.

I drew the bath since this shaving job needed more than precariously balancing, glassesless, and feeling my way around the forest of my ankles for whatever strays that hasty, broad sweeps of my razor might otherwise miss. As I was taking care of the business of defurring my poor lower limbs, I contemplated the fastest way I might be able to shower and then heard Man leave. I groaned. Everyone was still in their pajamas, except for me, the Saturday shaver, who had missed Saturday. I thought about just quickly dunking my whole body in the water to make it easier to soap up while the bath drained, and then I'd just rinse in the shower... oh, wait, I just couldn't bring myself to dunk the rest of me in that hairy water. Ugh. And I despise showering with a half-full tub that just doesn't understand the meaning of a hasty drain. -sigh- So I took normal amounts of time making myself clean.

I got out of the shower to find that Man had kindly taken the only child who was ready, because she's pretty good at getting herself ready to go. Unfortunately, she's also the best at taking care of the baby while I try to dress all of the rest of us, put makeup on, find my shoes, and oh dear, I need breakfast. Today was just one of those days where I knew that breakfast was going to be necessary. Ok, bowl of low-sugar, high-fiber cereal. Except Freida decided that she wanted some too, so she used her Ninja Baby Lightning Hands to help herself to a handful of my already half-soggy food. Wow. After cleaning her, me, the couch, and wolfing the rest of my food she declared that she was still hungry. A glance at the clock told me that I would be on time if I were going by Mormon Standard Time. And, you know, if I didn't nurse the baby.

It was nice to have an excuse to just sit and do nothing for a little while, as the baby ate and simultaneously attempted the stretch the neck of my shirt down to my knees. The two mobile kids remaining with me both wanted to wait outside while I finished up. "Absolutely not, don't even think about going out that door," I said as I sat and impotently used my authority voice with them. But go out they did and by this time Freida was just too happy to watch the antics anyway, so I gathered my things whilst carrying the baby who has learned just the right screech to get my attention while I try to do anything but hold her (it's a sort of sobbing, gasping, scream thing that she can do while smiling). I think I made at least 6 full circuits of the house, gathering essential supplies for our outing, went out to the van and buckled everyone in, went back into the house twice for forgotten necessities, and finally headed out to church.

I got there in time to hear the last ten minutes of the last speaker's talk, which was actually great timing. We farmed the kids out to their various Sunday School classes, and then Freida had a melt down when she realized how very hard she had worked all morning with no compensation. The upside? I fed her to sleep and Man took her for the third hour of meetings. Yay!

And another happy note, Tag broke our dryer last night. Well, the two men broke it together, first when Man decided it was a great idea to put part of his TA50 into it to dry (think: 40 pounds of Army gear) and "didn't notice that burning smell until...." yeah. It has limped and creaked ever since, about 6 months ago. Then Tag reached in yesterday and made it spin while the motor wasn't running and it suddenly wouldn't run at all. The good news: Man checked the internet for while, opened up the dryer, and within a half an hour had it fixed and good as new. He is now forgiven for breaking it in the first place, but that particular stunt will live on in family legend.

This is the sort of morning everyone is having today :


And this one was trying to make growl faces but couldn't stop smiling:

Frieda was so tired today (and I still can't decide if I like "Freida" or "Frieda") and just not having pictures.

Tag, showing off how long his hair has gotten since his last cut. I think he looks great with a "real" hair cut but Man is constantly asking if it's too long. You know, Man, who is so tired of cutting his hair that he actually used hair removal chemicals on his head last night. He looked like a burn victim afterward and had to shave the extras anyway. Ha! We'll have to see how it grows back.

She had a bath but still managed to get some sort of food into her hair before the hour was up. It's a good thing she's so cute.