Domestic Bliss

Here are two slices from my afternoon.

Slice #1: Dinnertime

Clothes, stuffed animals, and toys are scattered throughout the house from our lazy morning and then subsequent scramble to get to church on time.  Tanner is lying on the floor on his back because he's very good at rolling from front to back but refuses to stay on his tummy long enough for some good solid tummy time and now that he's on his back, he can't reach the toys and so he's screaming.  Anthon and Erilyn are playing tag, or catch, or chase with Anthon "whipping" Erilyn with his scarf and yelling while Erilyn squeals with delight and runs frantically through the kitchen, Anthon right on her heels.  Some pop-Christmas songs are playing loudly in the background (The Forgotten Carols had played out, apparently).  I'm frantically trying to get the dishwasher loaded so I have enough room to make something for us to eat for dinner, though I don't yet know what.  And I'm not entirely sure where Kirk is.  All I know is he's not where I want him.

This is decidedly not my idea of domestic bliss, and certainly not a peaceful Sabbath Day.

Slice #2: After dinner/bedtime

The house is picked up, even vacuumed in places, the dishes are done, the kids are fed and I'm feeling okay with the fact that they ate cereal for dinner. Tanner is fed, changed, and happily swinging.  Kirk is listening to "beautiful music" (Josh Groban's Noel) and generally enjoying our company.  The kids are busily opening up candies in preparation for decorating gingerbread houses.  I'm contentedly building gingerbread houses (out of graham crackers), and not freaking out that the icing isn't working very well and that the poor houses look more like shacks that have been through a serious snow storm (the icing was dripping everywhere) than pretty little houses.  I break the news to the kids that we'll have to let the icing harden over night and decorate tomorrow.  They take it very well.  I'm amused that when I ask Erilyn to put her pajamas on, she comes back with a pull-up on, underwear, tights, more underwear (the kind that goes under a matching dress) and pajama bottoms and I smile at her fat little bottom. 

Ahh.  This is more like it.