Chaos and mayhem and pasta

Anyone had one of these days recently? Being a pastor’s wife, Sunday often has me outnumbered in the fight for a civilized world. 

I do my best to counteract it—lunch is hummus and picnic goods and dinner is always pasta and spaghetti sauce to keep my sanity afloat. 

Back in the dark ages (okay like 6 months ago) I used to slave away Sunday morning trying to scrounge up some form of after church meal Martha Stewart worthy until my husband finally knocked some sense into me and convinced me that while our children might not suffer too badly forgoing a weekly pot roast (and let’s be honest—three fourths of the time I’d forgotten to either grab the meat out of the freezer to thaw or to actually prepare the crockpot more than five minutes before we walked out the door) , they just might suffer from dangerously crabby mom syndrome. Can I please get an amen?

 So simple and repeated meals became the law of the land and I haven’t look back since. Except, maybe, when I see Isaline covered in red sauce despite all my best full body bib efforts. Alas. Sigh. Momma said there’ll be days like this.