Home
On the Sundays that I have my punks, we eat pancakes. It is usually late in the morning. Because most of the week I have to get up early, Sunday is mama's time to snooze in bed, be lazy and read. The punks get up quietly and eat dry cereal and watch TV. When I emerge from the cocoon of the bed in my pajamas, I make pancakes with their help. It is required that pajamas are worn while eating the pancakes. This has become our ritual.
I know in my heart that I would like for the ritual to include a church service, another place of community to help the kids. But even, now a year later after the divorce, I feel we all need this time together. There is something about being home, with no plans, no urgent matters.
Someday when the punks are older, I want them to remember their Sunday mornings with me at our house. I've told them that we are never moving again. I want them to have that sanctuary in this world.
I know in my heart that I would like for the ritual to include a church service, another place of community to help the kids. But even, now a year later after the divorce, I feel we all need this time together. There is something about being home, with no plans, no urgent matters.
Someday when the punks are older, I want them to remember their Sunday mornings with me at our house. I've told them that we are never moving again. I want them to have that sanctuary in this world.
Just know that you're not alone
I'm going to make this place your home.
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