My husband works every Sunday. We drive to church in separate vehicles. After the service, he heads to work and I drive the kids and myself home. I really miss the wonderful family time my family shared when I was growing up. After church, we would go for long bike rides together at a local state park or go on a picnic and hike at a nearby forest preserve. On rainy afternoons, my mom would make a huge amount of popcorn. All the kids would grab blankets and pillows and sprawl out on the living room carpet. Then my dad would read aloud to us for hours. He read Tom Sawyer to us on a rainy 3 day weekend. He was a marvelous reader, who always made stories come alive.
My children have different memories of our family times. My husband is really good about doing things with us when he is not working. When he is home, the children know that he has their full attention. Because my husband works on Sunday, the children and I tend to go to a playground or do chores around the house in the afternoon. Sunday afternoon's don't say "family time" to them.
Today, Mike called from work and asked me to pick up some items for a picnic supper. He arrived home around 5:15 pm. We left immediately for the local forest preserve. After a restful walk and game of "Pooh Sticks", we had a subs and all the fixings. My little ones gathered fistfuls of rocks during our walk. One child fell into the creek. We laughed, talked, and some of the kids squabbled for a short time. Eventually, the mosquitoes drove us out of the forest. But for a few hours, my children got a taste of the fondly remembered Sundays from my youth.