Remember when Sunday was called "A day of rest?"

At 7:52AM  I glance at the clock. I groan but then console myself with "I can lay here for another 20 minutes, church doesn't start until 9:15"   Then at 8:16  "Enough already!" I firmly reprimand myself. "Just get your butt outta bed- you've got 35 minutes to shower, get dressed and out the door."

I roll over and grab my iPhone, and with bleary eyes I check Facebook to see if the kids are online - if Xander's up and ready I'll skip the shower and go pick him up for church instead. No kids online.
I glimpse out the window at the -25 weather as I head to the shower. I groan again and think, "I should just crawl back into bed - I could get almost 3 more hours before I work at noon."

But I press on, thankful there is always coffee ready at church before the service because I don't have time to make any.

By the time I get dressed and paint my eyelashes and other important stuff like that, it's 8:55- the time I normally am walking out the door, except today I'm still standing with wet hair. And I can't find my blow dryer. What the!??! Oh yeah, I remember Ken borrowed it to shrink wrap their windows and forgot to return it. I groan again. "I should just head back to bed."

But I seem to recall Jed might have a blow dryer downstairs in his suite. I rummage through his bathroom and come up empty handed. I groan, "I should just go back to bed," but instead I call to confirm the kids are up (being secretly disappointed when they pick up the phone) - I'll just stop by and dry my hair on the way.

I throw a few hair products in my purse, grab a headband and my bible and trudge out into the -25 with wet hair.

I arrive to find the kids bathroom occupied. I summon my last scrap of patience and stand there waiting to get in. I suppressed a groan and think, "I should just stay and visit the kids this morning."

It turns out the blow dryer was in the kitchen so I didn't need to wait for the bathroom after all. Finding a plug-in was another matter.

By the time I finished my rush job drying my hair I can hear Jade offering Xander a choice of eggs or waffles for breakfast. I am tempted once to give up on church and just stay indoors with the kids. But off I go.

As I back out of the driveway I take a nanosecond to decide it might be just as fast to take Vance Rd rather than my usual drive down Westwood. I arrive at the red light and wait to turn left onto the highway. And wait. And wait. For some reason the light will not change to green. I groan (numerous times) and think to myself, "I should just go shopping, the mall is open earlier on Sundays now for Christmas Commercialism."

But alas I choose to drive through a red light and make the trek to church. I happen to glance in the mirror as I am driving down the highway. I groan. "Thank God I brought a headband," I mutter to myself as I realize my hair was still damp and is now flat-but-yet-frizzy as only permed hair can do. I onehandedly try to work my headband into my hair as I drive towards the church thinking this has got to be more unsafe than texting-and-driving.

"I should just go shopping," I think to myself as I turn into the church driveway. But I perservere. And somehow I managed to grab a coffee and slide into my seat just before the opening strum of the guitar.