I’m not sure how they work at your house, but it may go like this.
If we’re lucky and all three have slept in past 7:00 am, we all march with groggy faces downstairs and I start the coffee machine. It’s the one day of the week this militant mom allows her kids out of their rooms in the pyjamas before breakfast and they love it. If Mr. L and I are organized (50/50 chance) one of us is starting a family breakfast of pancakes or eggs while the other tries to fend off the hungry people from eating two bowls of cereal spoiling any chance of them eating the hot breakfast we slaved over.
Once breakfast is cooked, the kids gobble it up before both parents sit down and then rush off with a
“Sunday morning cartoons!!! WiiU!!”
In the meantime, two still not-quite awake parents look at each other and shrug and say, “It’s Sunday.”
Then a little while later, guilt sets in that we are lounging with coffees doing nothing while our kids are being babysat by Disney Junior. What ensues is kind of a ritualistic dance of getting kids dressed, teeth brushed so we can get on with our day.
Yesterday, I discovered something my poor tired brain forgot. Once upon a time, we got a weekend paper. Being an old soul, I still prefer the sound of a morning paper crackling versus the hum of the computer to catch up on current events. However, as most parents realize, trying to leisurely read a weekend newspaper is pointless with three young kids running amok. Our recycling bin was full of unread wasted print so we stopped our subscription.
By chance, I had acquired this long forgotten treasure the day before while going through the McDonald’s drive-through. (Before you judge, you wake up and get two kids to dance class for 9 am on a Saturday with a third kid in the van who has the stomach flu and may or may not throw up and you would be wanting an Egg McMuffin too! Besides, haven’t you heard those new radio ads stating how few calories there are in this breakfast item?) Well, free weekend newspapers were given to patrons. Score! (Anything free is a score.)
Of course, I couldn’t read the paper on Saturday. Saturday is activity day and playdate day and catch up on chores and well, you get it. The list goes on. Regardless, I was thinking the paper although welcome, would be another item to recycle this week. Until Sunday morning came.
This particular Sunday morning, because I’m kind of crazy like that, I signed the kids up for ski lessons. With a late start to winter, and having kids who picked up this winter sport last year, I made the parental decision to take them an hour drive away each Sunday for the next six weeks for ski lessons. Mr. L works part of the day anyway, so why not? We don’t have to leave super early, but we do need to get a move on cutting into coffee drinking and cartoon watching time.
Being a little more organized than usual yesterday, I had all our gear packed and we had a little extra time. I was expecting the usual, “Can we watch TV?” However, something amazing happened. I forgot my girls know how to read. When we used to get the weekend paper, they were a couple of years away from wonderful life skill. Now as I tried to sit and actually read the paper at the breakfast table, they both looked with wonder at this relic until Elizabeth piped up,
“Do you remember you used to read me the comics? They were funny.”
That’s right! I would choose a kid-friendly comic and read it to my blossoming eldest child.
Digging through the pages of news and entertainment I found them. The four-colour processed weekend comic section.
“Here. You can read it yourself now.”
Grabbing it, she dived right in. Then her younger sister said,
Splitting the pages I was awe-struck. We were sitting together, in relative peace on a Sunday morning enjoying a simple pleasure. A Norman Rockwell moment! They were chatting about what they found funny. Switched sections with no arguments. There was no mention of watching cartoons. Why would they? They were reading cartoons. Only the murmuring sounds of little voices as they read the ones they understood and asked me about the phrases with a satirical bent which I tried to explain in a kid-friendly way was heard.
How little it takes to fill a parent’s heart with joy and how quick a new tradition starts.