Have you heard the story about Sundays?

We coined a new phrase in our house this morning. We're not inactive, we're neurologically challenged.
Sundays and I have had a love/hate relationship for years now. Ever since my oldest boys were little, we've struggled with making it to and then through our Sunday church meetings. Our little family of neurological chaos combined with following Sunday standards has never been a joyful even. The OCD means layered clothes, zippers, buttons, & ties never feel right (and there are just so few modest dresses for little girls!) leading to multiple changes (and lots of sobbing) plus shoes come off as soon as we enter the building. Sensory issues mean church is always too bright, halls are too busy, music is too loud, and people are too close. The ADD means we are always fidgeting, talking when we shouldn't, and have trouble focusing on the lessons. The Tourrett's adds in a level of distraction with coughing & throat clearing, plus random stretching and neck rolling.
Let's just say we rarely go unnoticed. The anxiety levels increase ten fold on Sunday mornings just trying to make preparations for all the possible factors that could lead to a meltdown.
When the boys were little there was the added bonus factor of my being a "Westpack Widow." With hubby on the other side of the world, I fought my way through Sunday mornings if only for the reprieve that for 2 hours some poor Sunday school teacher would have the privilege of handling my kiddos while I soaked in the rejuvenating calmness of my own classes.
As they've gotten older the battle has become harder and I admit that I've begun dreading Sunday mornings. While meeting together with friends to learn Christ's gospel is still very rejuvenating for me, the process of getting my family through the doors had become overwhelming at times. By the time we arrive I am exhausted, rarely in a positive mood, and having a hard time not being distracted by my families idiosyncrasies. I miss the days when they were small enough we could hide in the mother's room.
So many mornings have been spent wrestling my water sensitive little man through a shower and into a tie; being kicked by him all through sacrament meeting as he repeats the words "I want to go home, I want to go home." Energy has been drained begging another child to come out of the bathroom or waiting in a corner with him until the halls are empty enough that he can calmly make it to class only to hear from his teacher that today he only hid under his chair for part of class. Meetings have been spent sitting in the hallway with my oldest son's head in my lap as I rub his back and try to calm his Tourrett's & anxiety.
I have to acknowledge how much I appreciate our wonderful church friends for not judging our squirrely little family or our lack of participation. Please know we want to be there and are grateful for feeling so welcome when we do make it through the doors.
Today we were so close. Three of us were ready, number four was almost there, and five & six had been given sick leave. Then number four fell apart, crumpled in tears because her OCD had pushed her over the edge. We were so close.
Today we made a new plan and pray the stars align for us next week. And thank a loving Heavenly Father for knowing our intentions, recognizing our struggles, and giving us the strength to deal with them.