Someone explain Sundays to me

Alright, I know I've not posted for Friday or Saturday, and I promise I will get back to them, but I am at the point right now, where I just need to sit down and type. There is something about the feeling of typing that is calming to me-- almost like the feeling I have when I am holding a pencil.

So I will simply ask: Someone explain Sundays to me. Why is it that nearly every other day of the week is calm and manageable, and then Sunday rolls around I feel like my world is just thrown in a blender and handed back to me as a big pile of junk. I'd use a different word for that, but I am trying not to complain so much as just get a few things off my chest.

I think I should have just listened to that little voice that told me this morning to stay home from Church. I had planned on just taking the kids to sacrament meeting and then bringing them back to bed. They all three are getting sick, so I just planned on going to the first hour, but Frog Prince wanted so badly to go and practice for his primary program that I caved and told them we'd stay. This of course meant that I told the substitute that she didn't need to come in and sub for me. Upon getting to class though FP resolutely said he didn't want to go to Primary and not having the time to fight him about it, I made him sit in a chair, in the corner of my classroom while all the kids in my class got to play. Eventually though, I had enough and called in a member of the presidency to come and take him to his class.

Sheepie was unlike I have ever seen him before. I had to physically remove him from class and he then (after I threatened him within an inch of his life) spent the entire third hour of church sitting in the hall way outside my classroom, because he chose not to be a part of class. I can not even tell you what set him off. But I just about wanted to sit down and cry myself. Here I am trying to teach and keep my class focused and he is just out of control.... the dear lady who was sitting in as my assistant today took over for me as I hauled him away to the hall, but I am just baffled by his behaviour lately. Eventually he did decide to come back in and do the art project with us, so that was a good thing.

About that time though, Frog Princes teacher comes into my classroom with FP trailing behind. The announcement: FP has had an accident. You have got to be bloody kidding me! Apparently he didn't want to stay in class, so he lied to his teacher and told him that he didn't have to go to the bathroom, so that he'd have an accident and have to be brought back to me. For real!!!! I mean the boys less than three months away from being five; what kind of behaviour his this?

Being the oh so kind and patient mother that I am, I hauled him off to the bathroom, and cleaned him up a bit, but since it wasn't pee, I basically told him he would just have to wait out the rest of church and sit quietly in a chair in my classroom. He did so, and thankfully without protest, because it was around this point that Sheepie decided it was time to go back into the throws of hysteria. He started freaking out because I didn't let him clean up a part of the class room that another little girl was already cleaning up. Thankfully, by the time he really got into the swing of it, church was over and so I could just leave. But it took two women from my ward swooping in and collecting my things and FP and Boy for me to be able to man handle a shrieking, screaming, flailing Sheepie out the car for time out/leaving.

Things calmed down slightly until Sheepies cousin bit his finger (I am sure it was not even hard at all, as there were no marks and it was barely red) at supper. This sent him over the edge again, and it took me resorting(and I am not proud, but certainly not above this either) to bribing him with cake, to get him to calm down.

When I got home, much later tonight, from a special church meeting, I was also deeply saddened to find that, although I had basically put them to bed before leaving, both the boys were still awake (and FP was sitting on the sofa waiting for me); my family picture in the hall had been knocked the ground and not picked up; almost an entire bag of cereal had been dumped into my kitchen sink (sorry kids I scooped it back into a container and you're eating it anyway!) and half a can of formula had been dumped and smeared ALL OVER my bathroom-- the counters, the sink, the stool, the floor, and the toilet! I am really not sure what I am going to have to do to keep them out of the formula, but I am starting to think a pad lock is involved.

Finally, I am pretty sure I hurt a friend feelings tonight, because I have a stupidly sarcastic sense of humour and I think it went a bit too far tonight. I totally was joking with her about how big her new house was getting to be, only to have her look really kind of hurt for a moment. She then went on to say that it had grown past what their plans had been, and that her sweet husband had actually been flipped off by a complete stranger who was riding his bike past her new house. The biker just rode by and shouted, 'too big,' and then flipped off her husband. Now these are some of the sweetest, kindest, most humble people I know and certainly aren't building a house that is hugely ostentatious or for show at all. But nonetheless, I am pretty sure my joke hurt her feelings, and was a stupid thing to say.

So between all of those things, and something else I said to another friend, that I am pretty sure was the totally wrong thing to say at the time I said it (I have actually wondered for a while if I am just digging a big hole in this particular relationship), I kind of just feel like I want to climb under a rock and NEVER come out again.

so now my emoKate rant is through, and my eyes are puffy and blurry enough that I can't read this, I am going to go and dig formula out of my bathroom tile and then head to bed. Boy has his 6 mo. check up tomorrow and if I don't sleep, we will only both be cranky in the morning.