Our busiest day of the week. Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. We spend the day together, as a family, worshiping, and learning. It's been like this for about four years now. Now throw in three babies. Woah!
Wake up at 6 am. Mom showers and dresses. Big girls get up and dress while Big Boy showers and dresses. No one wake the babies!
7 am - Start breakfast. Babies start to wake up. Pancakes (with nutella), pineapple and banana. I get Baby G bathed (in the sink) while the boys finish devouring their food. After Big B and Little Bare bathed and dressed, they play while I pack up their stuff. Big kids get their stuff loaded.
Before kids I thought suburbans were huge. With 3 kids, its adequate some of the time. With six - dont make me laugh. Imagine 3 banjos, a mandolin, 3 ukuleles, 3 totebags, 3 plastic totes, 3 small backpacks, stroller, pack and play, gallon of water, and large insulated lunch bag all in the back. Nuff said.
Everyone is fed, clean, dressed, and loaded in the truck. Only took 20 minutes. We are 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Yea! Super Mom! Typically when we are running so early for church we stop by Kroger and grab a snack for lunch. Why should today be any different? We pull in and start to unload. Big Boy gets Little B out while Big Girl gets Big B and Baby G. We get about 4 steps away from the truck and I decide to pick up Little B. He has short legs and we only have 15 minutes to get in and out. I take two steps and stop. Why is my arm so warm? Ugh. Exploding diaper. I put Little B down and notice the poo from finger tip to mid bicep. I quickly send Big Girl into the store to get wipes while Big Boy loads up Big B and Little G. Little Girl helps me strip down Little B (yes, right there in the parking lot - walking all the way to the bathroom from the far end of the parking lot was not an option - there would have been a trail), and get him as cleaned up as possible. We get him as cleaned up as we can with wipes, put on a clean pull up and leave. I drop off Big Boy at church and the rest of us go home.
While the big girls watch Big Boy and Baby G, I scrub Little B and get him dressed. While he goes to play (seemingly unaware of the grossness of the situation) I shower - again.
After a second costume change we re-load and get to church - only 30 minutes late.
After church we get to band practice. We typically picnic in the back of the room, today was no different. I was prepared and had brand new toys (color wonder markers and paper) to keep the boys occupied during the two hour practice. Once practice started we lasted only about 45 minutes. This will be something to work on if we keep babies.....
Good thing the church has an indoor playground (band practice is at a church). We go to the playground to play. Knowing it is past nap time - but there is no getting either of the little ones to lay down) I hear a little bit of whining, but the boys are having way too much fun to make them go to the truck to sleep. Then Little B falls. I am at the other end of the play structure and he somehow falls on the slide (climbing it?) I remember that we learned in class "you must record, record, record everything." So I text Foster Mom and let her know he fell (after his tears are gone and he is playing again). I don't know what hurts, but he may have a bruise.
15 minutes until practice is over. We go back to the music room and clean up. I get the babies loaded up in the truck. As soon as I turn on a 'Toddler Tune' tape, the big kids start coming out. Baby G is a bit fussy. Why? Because this crazy mama forgot to pack extra milk. Ugh. There goes the super mom title.
We stop by a store on the way to church #3 for Awana. Big Boy grabs a small bottle of milk. Chocolate milk. What?! Why would you do that? Back inside for a bottle for everyone (I don't care if it's flavored or not) but one MUST be plain milk for Baby G.
Milk in the bottle, we finally make it to Awana. The boys both have a fantastic time. During a trip to the potty before leaving, Little B tells me "ow" and points to his hip. Poor baby, I already see a bruise. I immediately let Foster Mom know where the bruise is so she can not only document, but also watch out when changing pants.
On our way to Foster Mom and Dad. I feel sad that I have to take these terrific kids somewhere besides home with me. God has not called us to do that yet. I do know that we will have them again either next weekend or the following weekend. I can't wait.