I will definitely post about Disneyworld madness tomorrow but today I am doing my DELAYED Flashback Friday as a part of my friend Kelly’s link up on adult birthday parties.  I loved this post.  It was called Surprise and it was posted last July after the hugely successful surprise 40th birthday party I planned for Bray.  If you missed it, here it is: 

So finally, after six months of planning, I can write about it – Saturday night, I (along with many others) pulled off what I didn’t believe was possible in a day and age of e-mails/texts/cell phones – a SURPRISE birthday party. And not just any surprise party, but my husband’s big blow out 40th Surprise Birthday Party! And if you doubt whether or not it was actually a surprise, you should have heard what came out of his mouth as we pulled up to our dear friend’s house and there were over 50 people in the street to welcome him with a big “surprise!” I can assure you, my husband who does not like surprises or being the center of attention was not initially all that happily surprised. But I think about 10 minutes into it, when he saw his favorite friends and all of his family, he started warming to the idea. He didn’t have to stand in a circle while people roasted him or open presents in front of a crowd, he just got to spent the evening hanging out with some of his favorite people.

So now, I’m recuperating. Anyone who knows me knows I love to throw a good party. But never have I been more motivated to throw a perfect party than now, for my husband, who I adore, and who I have never had the chance to throw a party for before! I started planning at the beginning of the year. Secured my location and then began to research themes and invitations. Found this adorable place in Wisconsin to do a fishing themed surprise 40th invite which my mother and I then took up a notch with fishing lures & burlap.

All of it culminated on July 23rd, 4 days before his birthday, when we went to our friends for a “fish fry” at HIS suggestion! Low and behold, the gang was all there. I am completely exhausted but never have I taken on a more worthy endeavor for a more worthy person. It was such a gift to see him register how much everyone loves him and how thrilled we all were to be able to be a part of his life. As a part of this week’s blogging, I’ll post my story entry for the scrapbook, and maybe even the kids, but the rest of the entries are for him to enjoy and appreciate alone (and one day for our kids to sit and read and see how loved their daddy is).

Well, technically this is my last Flashback Fridays since they were an institution of the summer, but because I will be in Disneyworld next Friday, I will likely have one more for you.  I went way back for this one.  It’s short and was written in the first month or so of me writing.  This was originally written on December 16, 2010, and entitled Mustard Seeds.  My writing will be a little light next week since I’ll be partying with my kiddos in Florida, but I will be back in full force with you after my birthday.  Happy Labor Day!

A very dear friend of mine is going through a very dark storm right now. Her sweet precious 4 year old has a very aggressive cancer. Despite all my weeks in the hospital with our babies, this is a new kind of trauma that I can’t imagine. It is prolonged. It wreaks havoc even outside of the chemo treatments. And it wears you down to a state where you are scared to ask for miracles for fear that God might disappoint you – and then what? What would happen to all those years of faith if He didn’t intervene like you asked?

I understand your faith being tested. I have been intimately acquainted with your hopes being dashed and dark news greeting you like a hail storm.  And while I have no words of wisdom for those going through a cancer storm with a child, I do know that the Lord understands that we are human (God made us after all) and does not expect us to blithely dance through trauma unaffected and sunnily optimistic. Our faith may feel small, but He tells us that small faith can do big things!  My mom gave me a mustard seed encased in a glass bead dangling from a gold chain which I wore through much of my childhood. It was supposed to be an ever present reminder that even though sometimes our faith feels SO small to us, God can use our small faith to do big things.  The God who multiplied 5 loaves and 2 fish, the God who raised Lazarus from the dead, the God who walked on water and calmed the storms WANTS to do big things.  He is a moving mountains kind of a God.  And when that mountain stands between you and survival, it is so hard to believe it will move and it is so scary to ask. But it CAN move.  So open your palm, imagine that teeny tiny mustard seed, and believe in a God of miracles.

Matthew 17: “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

*Note from 2012: my darling friend’s daughter is in full remission.  I know this isn’t the answer for everyone with this struggle, but praise gracious God that it was His answer for her. 

I had a rough day yesterday.  For assorted reasons.  By the time I picked the kids up from soccer (which we’re quitting for reasons I will detail on another day) and got home to feed them dinner, I was a wreck.  Fortunately, my mom had come and made dinner which allowed me to just sit down at the table with them and put my head down.  The baby was so worried about me he got up from eating dinner and came over to give me a hug and pats on the back.  This child is precious.  So for today’s Flashback Friday, I remembered a post from about this time last year.  I was super sick and this sweet child came and covered me with his blanket.  I hope you enjoy my post from September 19, 2011 entitled Top Five (or maybe bottom five):

This weekend had its highs and lows. For example, I lost 2 pounds. But I didn’t lose it the fun way.

Here’s the Top (or bottom) Five Wrap Up from the nuttiness that was our weekend:

5. I got to go on a date with my husband. To the E.R. After he stepped on a nail Saturday night, which went through his boot and into his foot (which he then proceed to extricate), he decided he probably should get a tetanus shot Sunday. Not wanting him to feel lonely, I woke up at 5 am and threw up so violently for several hours that twice I thought I was going to pass out because I couldn’t breath in. Then I broke out in a terrifying, and itchy, rash from neck to knees. We didn’t make it to church Sunday morning, but St. Luke’s we figured was close enough.

4. The little lady’s burgeoning independence. She loves doing stuff herself. She will punch you out if you try to help her (unless it’s putting her shoes on, those she wants on all the time, and various pairs, and she needs help and needs it now). During our school drop off this morning, I’ve never seen a child run so fast. She ran right past me, gave her lunchbox to Miss Michelle, put her paint smock on and began her next work of art. Seriously, she was painting in full gear in the two minutes it took me to unload all their stuff and say goodbye (not that she bothered waving, she was busy at school).

3. The baby’s empathy. Little buddy was SO worried about mommy laying near death on the sofa while waiting for Miss Maria to come (so Bray and I could go to the ER), that he ran over and crawled up on the couch with his blanket and covered me up and sat there patting me. Seriously? He’s not even 2. He’s going to be the one making sure my hair gets done at the old folks home.

2. The neighborhood playground. I can not BELIEVE it took me so long to discover this thing. You pay $25 and get a playground access key. I did it because we’re having the kids 2nd birthday party there, so I got a key about a month ago. Oh my heavens, it is wonderful. It’s the only place right now I can take them solo. It’s fenced in and super kid proof and has all these fabulous slides and swings and toys. We go every weekend morning and had some weirdo not come and parked there and watched us with his truck running we would have stayed all morning long. It rocks!

1. Rain! It rained on our little corner of the world for several periods this weekend. My favorite of them all was the 5 am rain we got this morning. The thunder was loud enough to wake two of the three. The little lady settled back into her crib but Dennis the Menace was having none of it. He was coming to bed with us. Lest you think he was beside himself with fear, let me clear up that misconception. One of his favorite books is Mr. Brown Can Moo, in which there is a page that says, “Boom, boom, boom! Mr. Brown is a wonder. Boom, boom, boom! Mr. Brown makes thunder….” So imagine, if you will, a three-foot, towheaded, evangelical preacher standing in your bed, pumping his fist in the air with all his might, bellowing “Boom, Boom, Boom!” It was too funny to grieve over my lost hour of sleep.

I thought today’s Flashback Friday was particularly apropos given yesterday’s post.  This just goes to support why so many of us are finding ourselves in a situation where enough is never enough.  It was written on April 14, 2011, and entitled Being the Joneses.  (One editorial note, I say that we don’t own an i-anything, but I admit I do now own an iPhone….)  I hope you enjoy: 

I grew up lower lower middle class. My mom doesn’t like for me to say poor. But let’s just say there weren’t any extras. After my parents divorced, it was even tighter. However, mom always admonished me against trying to keep up with the Joneses.

I don’t know who started that saying, “Keeping Up with the Joneses,” but it’s become even more accurate as the decades fly by. Everyone is trying to not just keep up with the guy or girl next door, but surpass them. Your car has leather, well mine has heated seats and a fancy sound system. Your shoes are suede, well mine are designer suede with embossed stitching. Your husband manages a company, well my husband owns a company. Your kids started talking at 10 months, well mine knew Latin at 11 months.

Sound all too familiar? I like to think that I’m above all this, but I’m not. We’re not very tech savvy, so we don’t own an i-anything and we don’t drive Mercedes and we don’t own a half a million dollar house but I’ve found that I struggle (aka envy) in more abstract areas. Our little neighbor friend, a month younger than the kids, stopped by to say hello, and say hello he did! He waved and said hi and bye and mommy and daddy and all sorts of other stuff. My genius children stared back – I picked up their little hands to get them to wave & the second I let go they fell limp at their sides. I panicked – oh no, my children aren’t advancing quickly enough, aggghhhh, help, we’re falling behind. I wrote about how I went to a barbecue alone because my husband was out of town and then stared enviously at all the other wives accompanied by their husbands. THEIR husbands made it, but mine travels.

Oh, the green eyed monster. It may not be material things that you’re after, but I would hazard a guess that the other things are more insidious. And it’s nothing new – these cravings have been worming their way into people’s hearts and minds since the beginning of time. That’s why so many of the commandments in Exodus deal with wanting other people’s stuff. Beyond the obvious one, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house….nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s,” are others: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me,” “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,” “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” The translation of this in The Message says simply, “No other gods, only me.”   And all of this envy, this lusting after things or people or situations, it’s just saying I want something other than God – God’s not enough.

But as I was struggling with this last week, I had to remind myself that everything is not as it appears. Just as a bunch of crazy people think I’m supermom, which I think we can all agree couldn’t be further from the truth, they aren’t the Joneses either. Those children out-talking my kids may not run as fast or have the same sense of humor or be able to lift large objects with Hulk-like strength And those husbands walking into the barbecue may be in town but they may party at night with their buddies or play on the computer at all hours or struggle with pornography or spend all the family money.

That’s when it hit me – I am the Joneses. I am married to a wonderful man who loves me. I have three children who are the most fun little people I have ever met. I have a great job and friends and parents.

You are the Joneses too though. Stop looking at the green grass next door and check out the bounty in your backyard. If you’re single and lusting after that marriage you see, then know that there’s a woman trapped in a loveless or abusive marriage that’s lusting after your singledom and the first chances you still have ahead of you. If you’re married and lusting after that fun single life, know that there’s a single person who would love to come home after work to a house with a husband or children. If you want kids and don’t have them, then know that there’s a mom crying because the cops told her son was just jailed for drug use. If you have kids and are stressed out by finances or disabilities, know there is a couple that is undergoing their third IVF treatment with their hearts breaking because they can’t get pregnant. That doesn’t make your situation less hard. It just means that Mr. Jones and Ms. Jones don’t have it any easier.

You are the Joneses. I am the Joneses. If we could just get on board with being the Joneses, maybe we would be transformed and spend our time thanking God for his abundant blessings instead of “coveting our neighbor’s house….”

Psalm 49 -Do not be overawed when others grow rich, when the splendor of their houses increases; for they will take nothing with them when they die, their splendor will not descend with them.

Psalm 68 – Sing to God, sing in praise of his name, extol him who rides on the clouds; rejoice before him—his name is the LORD. A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling….When you, God, went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness, the earth shook, the heavens poured down rain, before God, the One of Sinai, before God, the God of Israel. You gave abundant showers, O God; you refreshed your weary inheritance. Your people settled in it, and from your bounty, God, you provided for the poor.

2 Corinthians 9 – And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

Okay, so I was debating what to use for today’s Flashback when I got an email from a triplet momma.  Her trio are climbing out of their cribs, not yet two, and she wanted to find out the latest on the drama of my crib conversion and if I had any tips for her.  I had to laugh.  I about the worst role model you could have for the change from cribs to big kid beds.  So I thought I would give you a progress report and then flashback to the story that people still stop me to talk about. 

It was mid-February when our nights began to unravel.  I was not comfortable using crib tents and the kids could all climb out of their cribs, even with the mattress on the floor, so we decided to convert to big kid beds.  How bad could it be right?  Here’s a summary of how the insanity unfolded that first week. 

We’ve gone back and forth since then.  We’ve gone back to cribs, with them turned around so the high part is in front, and the mattress on the floor, but eventually, since our children could scale a 40 story glass downtown building, they made their way out.  They also, FYI, can climb the baby gate in front of their door so they basically can make their way out like lunatics in the house (and they can unlock the doors and open them so we’re always in lock down mode at the house).  Bed time is still hard.  We start to bed about 7:45 and they go to sleep sometime between 9 and 10 pm.  They have ripped apart their dresser.  They have torn their closet to shreds.  They have nearly broken their wooden beds.  They have colored on the walls (and no, I have no idea where the crayon came from, it’s like they’re prisoners smuggling in contraband).  We’ve tried everything.  They stay up later, and they still wake up before 7 am.  They’ve skipped naps, nights are still chaotic, possibly more so.  They turn three in October and I’m just hoping as they age it will die down.  Last night they all climbed over the baby gate (we can’t shut their door, they FLIP out, we clearly should have done it when they were younger but that ship has sailed), and just came out in the living room to hang with us.  It was 9 pm. 

So that’s the update.  Don’t let these smiling faces fool you, they do not stay like this:

And here’s the infamous flashback.  It was written on February 19, 2012, and entitled Insert Expletive Here:

I realize I post a lot about my faith and God’s hand in our journey. So I also realize I’m not allowed to curse because it sends a bad message for someone who writes about faith and family to have four letter words on her blog. However, the most restraint I can use tonight is for you to use the expletive that you think most fitting given your background. It may be that is, “gracious.” I assure you, regardless of my personal Christianity, I am human and that is not the word running through my head tonight.

As you know from this week’s post, we converted to big kid beds last weekend. Harrowing is not nearly descriptive enough of a word. Yesterday, instead of nap time, the eldest took off his poopy diaper (the disastrous turn potty training has taken is a whole other issue), and the boys proceeded to spread the poop all the floor (beige carpet), doors and each other. After a day of work, we still can’t get it out of the carpet though the blankets and doors (and skin) has been restored. Despite running them like dogs at the Aquarium this morning, which was, in and of itself, a fun adventure, only the baby took a nap. I am not willing to part with naps at 28 months. Especially when, at 8 pm tonight, they are still running around hopping from bed to bed while Bray sits with them (when I threw Piglet at the completely defiant little lady we realized it was time for me to leave the room). We tried to bathe them to calm them down, but while trying to get their p.j.s, the little lady took the contents of the potty chair and poured it on our floor while the baby crawled into the fireplace to play in the soot.

There are no words to express the incredible frustration, anger, dismay, and Titanic sense of sinking in our household. Bray and I are taking turns losing our temper at least so that one of us steps in when the other one literally can not take one more minute of this naked disobedience and destruction. We can’t really process tips right now, we’re in sheer survival mode, but we’ll take prayers.