Day of rest? Not likely.

Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest, right?

Well, let's just say that anytime all 6 of us (7 if Greg isn't at work) have to be dressed and out the door by 8:30, it's not-so-restful.
This morning actually ran rather smoothly. I made it to bed at a decent time last night - so, despite wondering why I had set the alarm for 6:30 on a school day, (what can I say? Feeding a baby and having a husband leave for work in the middle of the night messes up one's clear thinking, especially when the alarm goes off) things started out rather well. The kids were cooperative, I fed Cambrie and we were out the door on time. (Notice, there is no mention of the state of the kitchen which greeted me upon our arrival home.)

Something happened in the car -- not sure what -- but the beast came out in 3 out of 5 children. The first few minutes of the meeting were rough -- but thanks to Grandma's help, we eventually settled in.
Upon returning home, as I gathered bags and books and children out of the car, I was greeted with the lovely news, "MOOOOMMM. We're locked out. Someone locked the door leading into the house."
Oh. Great. The house key is on my old keychain. Right inside the door. Hmmm...what to do?
We tried many things, even borrowed some screwdrivers from the neighbor with the hopes of picking the lock. (A good thief I would not make.) No luck.
Finally, as a last resort, I pulled the screen off the window and Cannon climbed in.

So much for rest.

Due to the nice weather, thankfully, the windows were open. Unfortunately, the wind wreaked havoc on a few plants and a glass vase, but at least we could eat lunch.

Then came naptime...that most blissful time of day when, if all the stars align, everything is quiet, at least for a few minutes.

Just as Cambrie was falling into a deep sleep, I heard a loud scream. Whether you have children or not - you can tell the difference. This was not a "you-took-the-remote-from-me-and-I-want-it-back" sort of scream. Nor was it a playful scream. It was a "I-am-in-some-serious-pain-here" kind of scream and it was coming from Brynnley. I quickly lept out of bed, careful not to wake Cambrie and ran down the stairs (all the while thinking, "please be ok - and please stop screaming so that you don't wake the two sleeping children.")

Addysen was on her way to get me and quickly reported, "Brynnley stapled her finger."

Shiish.

I pulled Brynnley into the bathroom to survey the injury (and to shut the door in order to drown out the wails) and was relieved (?) to find that the staple was only secured on one end. In the back of my mind, I had the fleeting thought that you aren't supposed to remove the object when you have a puncture wound. (Is that even right? Girls camp first aid classes were a long time ago). Needless to say, I held Brynnley tight and pulled the protrusion from her skin. The sight of the blood was enough to set her off all over again, but alas, eventually, she realized she was going to live. Now, whether or not she'll have learned from this mistake -- that remains to be seen.

So much for rest.

I finally gave up resting after about the 100th door slamming shut (remember the open windows?) It's a wonder Cambrie and Kenzie stayed asleep. But, no complaints from me. I am in my element with sunshine and blue skies and open windows.