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.

Just know that you're not alone

I'm going to make this place your home.