Sunday Nights

I always dreamed of a home that all my children would come to dinner to on Sunday nights. They would come first with friends... then with serious boyfriends... then with families of their own. And each time I opened the door, I would be a little older, but always with the same smile seeing my children and their children bloom and thrive in life.

That's what I'd imagined.

I'm still sad that I don't have that traditional life for them to all come home to. We are, after all, unconventional. In our family, Thanksgivings have been spent at amusement parks and restaurants, sometimes at the homes of our friends and families. Christmas decorating is put off until the last moment so that we can have birthday cakes for the babies while their actual parties happen in June on half birthdays. We just do things a little different at our house. It's not that crazy... just not conventional.

But Sunday Nights. I always imagined that would be a tradition that we could build on as our family grew. The weekly habit would bring us together not only physically, but emotionally... spiritually... and became stronger as a unit. That's not how things are right now.

But that doesn't stop me from hoping...