We skipped church yesterday to sleep in. I felt a pang of loss at missing church, not because I’m being graded on church attendance, but because I do hate to miss Mark Driscoll’s preaching. (And, yes, I could listen to it online, but I know I will never find time to do so.) But half of us have a half-hearted cold and our twins had a “sleep”-over. So, we slept in.
Later in the day, we rounded up everyone, including an extra teenager, and drove twenty minutes to Wild Waves, our local waterpark/amusement park. The waterpark won’t open until next weekend, but this weekend was an opportunity to get our permanent season pass i.d. cards. While we were there, we set the teenagers free and took the littler kids on rides.
The elusive sun shone on us all day yesterday, reminding me that the gloom does not last forever. The first two weeks of May were our wettest and coldest in history and seriously, felt like Groundhog’s Day, February 2 itself, repeating over and over. Cold, gloomy, rainy, cold, damp, cloudy.
And wouldn’t you know it . . . the rain has returned. Looking outside at the sky gives no clues to the season. It could be November. Please, Weather, have pity on us!
Since our youngest child is now six and a half, I notice a big difference in the difficulty-level of family outings. When she was younger, we’d had to tailor everything to her appetite, energy and likelihood to throw a fit. Now she goes along with the program mostly, adjusting to most disappointment with calm acceptance. We can reason with her. She can steer herself now, whereas before she was at the whim of her emotion, likely to go off course or capsize anytime, anywhere. Wouldn’t it be ironic if we had a baby now? It would! And although that would please her no end, that’s not going to happen. Maybe a puppy. Or a rat. But no babies. I’m getting old. But hey, not as old as that 66-year old woman who is pregnant. Did you hear about her?
When I am sixty-six, my daughter will be 28. I’m going to leave the child-bearing to her. But not for a long, long, long time.
6 thoughts on “Sunday, when the sun shone”
Sixty-six and pregnant? I cannot even fathom how strange that would be. Many of her grandchildren could be way older than her child – talk about confusing!
I think I’ll just enjoy being a grandma, thank you very much!
I am 48, and my daughter DESPERATELY wants a baby in the house. It’s sad, she would be an awesome big sister, but there is no way I am doing that again. I am not exactly excited about becoming a grandma anytime soon, but I am closer to that than I am to having another baby.
that 66 yr old woman has got to be nuts!! 😉
When my wife and I married, we were at that stage where our kids from previous marriages were all old enough to go along with the program and not need a lot of support stuff. Then along came our son, and our family was thrown back into maintenance mode again. I’m looking forward to next year when he finally grows out of it.
Our family has moved from babies to pet rats. Much lower maintenance.
66 & pregnant? Crazy!! Well, at least she’ll be able to breastfeed them while she’s pushing them in the stroller… Sorry! I couldn’t resist!