Sleepy.

We're a church going family. It's hard to get up in the morning, hard to get the girls looking decent, but we attend every Sunday. Most Sundays, during the last two hours of church, Jake takes care of Lillie while I'm busy in Primary.

Yesterday when church was over, I gathered my books, children, scraps of paper and headed out to the foyer and waited. Jake was not at our meeting place. A long 20 minutes passed full of the older girls running around an empty chapel, Ruby jumping on the couch in the foyer before I could catch her and tons of other shenanigans. I began to really stretch my imagination of where Jake could be. See, he's not the kind to chat it up after the meetings. He gets out of there as fast as he possibly can.

So I walked down the hall. I listened for his voice. The building was practically empty by now. A few voices came around the corner, I looked, nope, not him. I started opening a few doors only to find empty classrooms. I stopped short at the end of the hall at the Mother's Lounge. I hesitated, wondered if there was any chance... I opened the door slowly.

The sight will forever be etched into the inside of my skull. Jake, on one of the recliners, hunched over, snoring, with Lillie asleep against his chest. I stopped and stared with my mouth wide open for ten seconds, just enough time for Jake to sense my presence and blink his eyes open wildly.

20 minutes, people.

Get. Real.

A Grand Opportunity.

We have the grand opportunity to live by our family again. Most of our marriage we have not, so we relish in this time with them. This is a small glimpse into what our family gathering looks like. The meal is usually roast, mashed potatoes (Donna's are absolutely the best in the world), vegetables, and salad with european style dressing (oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper). Laughter and conversation echo off the high ceiling and wood floor and there are literally babies everywhere, babbling and showing off their newly acquired walking skills. After we eat, the men watch the Discovery Channel and the women find a quiet place to talk about pregnancy, childbirth and other fascinating subjects.

On Saturday evening we all had the opportunity to attend the Relief Society Broadcast together as sisters in the church. I took a very important lesson home with me, a quote from Elder Uchtdorf's talk, "Happiness is your Heritage". This is a goal I can hold myself to this coming year. Just be happy with my daughters. I should give them the legacy of being happy and content with life. It was put simply and clearly at the conference that we need to be soft on ourselves and allow for more apprecation of our own talents instead of comparing ourselves to others. Can I get an A-MEN?

It's just the way I am.

I am one of those people who constantly embarrasses themselves. I have tact about 80% of the time. The other 20%, I say too much, without thinking, too soon, too late, too loud. And for nothing but a good laugh. Or I stand up in testimony meeting and am so nervous that instead of getting to the point, I start telling funny stories. Not good. Jacob knows this and tries to help me and also has his own little spells of the same.

Telling people embarrassing stories about myself helps me heal. Because usually people don't say what they really think, they say things like, "That's really funny", or "Sarah, you're the best", or "Ya, I've done that before, too", and it helps me feel better about myself, even if it's not true.

A couple of things: You never want to guess if the older of two ladies is a grandmother or a mother. You never want to assume someone's pregnant. You never want to be in the Relief Society Presidency, sit up in the front of R.S. every week facing 40 women, and take role during the opening prayer (or sneak fruit snacks out of your bag during the lesson). Not good. You never want to lie to your neighbor that you're too busy to watch her kids, and then play at the park right next to your house. You never want to be at the grocery store checkout with screaming kids, using WIC coupons, and buying a pregnancy test.

Alright, enough about my past. Something that I did a few weeks ago: I got to church 15 minutes early to play the organ (I have so many embarrassing organ stories, it's ridiculous). I start with the prelude music. dum hm hm dum dum da dum, nice and slow and pretty. At about five minutes til the hour, the bishopric is seated on the stand, the deacons are in place to pass the sacrament and our ward has an eager 40-50 people already seated for Sacrament meeting. I reach over to my bag and pull out my granola bar. It's the nutty kind, with chewy honey and oats and almonds and peanut butter stuff on the bottom. The Costco ones. I'm taking chomp after chomp in between hymns and looking down, I can feel lots of eyes on me. But come on, people, a organist has gotta eat. No one knows when I'll eat next and I can feel it will probably be in about 4 hours when church is over. So I'm meeting gazes with a smile and plugging along to Joseph Smith's First Prayer with my mouth full. I finish and take a swig of my water bottle. Yum. Breakfast completed and all done before 9a.m. The service starts and about half way through TESTIMONY MEETING I realize it's Fast Sunday. DUUUUUUUH.