There's something about Sunday's that seems to raise my serotonin. It is always so refreshing to wake up on a Sunday morning to my wonderful husband (who spoils me) making breakfast (he's our chef, that we won't share with the world), to the foot steps of our 5 year old up and down the hallway, in and out of her room as she dresses up in 3 different outfits and dances in front of her mirror singing her own made up versions of opera, and now to the grunts of our little man, Carlin. The teenager doesn't sleep in too late, but rarely awakes before the rest of the house.
Carlin seems to never leave the boobie. We don't offer him a pacifier or bottle, so I am both his binky and food supply, which makes it to where he pretty much is always attached. Even though gathering dirty clothes and tidying up my bedroom before going downstairs is a bit more difficult with him attached like a little parasite, it doesn't matter. These days are precious. This is exactly what I asked for when dreaming of having just one more child.
The morning always starts off busy. We eat breakfast, our teenager, Devlin, starts laundry, our toddler has already strung half her bedroom across the living room floor and couch, the hubbers (being the chef, he also does the grocery shopping) spends his time typing his grocery list on his phone and cleaning out the leftover food that will not be eaten, while Devlin divides what goes in the compost and what does not. But then he and hubby leave to "forage for food" and then there is a still in the house as my little girl, my infant and I are left on the couch, cuddling and ready for a movie.
Once the movie is over, the boys return, the cupboards get filled, I have my teenager back to help me straighten up the house, the clothes get washed, sorted and distributed, I usually vacuum.. although yesterday didn't allow for that part of the ritual as Carlin was exceptionally hungry, and after a full day of little break from nursing him, my energy tank was pretty low.
Although I do enjoy our weekly ritual on Sundays, it usually takes less than 24 hours for the house to look just as it did (minus all of the dirty laundry) before we began cleaning, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
One day these kids will be grown, and the lack of frilly tutus, tiaras, tiny toys, and all that Devlin leaves in his trails, as well as all that Carlin will soon leave in his path in addition to his cloth diaper landry... will, before we know it, be replaced with the memories of when our children were completely dependent on us.
Sure there is a sense of liberation to one day be able to only have to plan for ourselves and dreams of traveling far and wide via RV with little worry in the world are pleasing; and even to show up on our children's lawns and have them take care of us for a few days in the meantime, has crossed our minds. But these are the golden days. The days of innocence, first experiences, development of mind, body and soul before we send these soon to be grown individuals into the world, hoping we did all we could to be sure they can contribute and help advance a society.
So, I'll continue to enjoy my Sundays waking up to our little opera star, and cleaning up tiaras, tutus and tiny toys.