'Tis the Season?

If you have ever worked in the retail or customer service industry, as I have for most of my illustrious career, you know that the brief period in time known as the holiday season (generally Black Friday through New Years, although more people are just beginning November 1st these days) is the most grueling and potentially evil of all...

A phrase I hear repeatedly around me, whether in stores, in the office, on the phones or whatever is "Well, 'Tis the Season!" generally followed or preceeded by whatever bad, sarcastic, mean, hurtful or unfortunate thing that just happened. Oh, you got cussed out by a customer? Well, 'Tis the Season!...You're locked in a gridlock battle over a Rock Star parking spot at Costco? Shoo...'Tis the Season! Everyone walking around in a generally nasty mood because they feel overworked, or are focused on everything they HAVE to get done to celebrate Christmas? 'Tis the Season! You're grumbling and complaining because you think you are forced to pretend to like your family? Tis the Season!

And I think Jesus cries...

Have you ever gotten something for your birthday, or Christmas, or any holiday celebrating your "You-ness" that was totally not what you wanted? You left up websites, printed out coupons and left them under your spouse's keys, dropped subtle-yet-obvious hints like bombs over Nagasaki and yet, you still end up with something that is not quite you at all? Sometimes I think this is how Christ feels at Christmas...

This is the holiday that, for many of us, we choose to celebrate the birth of our Savior, to share in the spirit of peace and goodwill, to remember the little things, and the value of love and family and yet, we use it as our excuse for ridiculously bad behavior, for which, let's face it, we would give ourselves a "time out" for. We excuse our actions and the actions of those around us because "Tis the Season!" Well, let me shout it from the rooftops...TIS NOT THE SEASON!

Let's think back to the first Christmas, shall we? This Christmas was not adorned with presents, HDTV's, dinnerware from Lenox, and decorated trees. This Christmas was not perfect, with fruitcake and namecards, and "Leg Lamps" and gimme, gimme, gimme... This Christmas was a much simpler affair...a much "messier" affair. The birth of Christ was probably the most messy situation of all. Let's take an unmarried girl telling her betrothed that she was "knocked up, spiritually speaking", and that he not only had to accept it, but lead and guide them both. Then at 9 months pregnant (which is no fun!) they have to take their first family vacation, only to find there is no place to stay. This is the opportune, imperfect moment that the baby decides to enter our imperfect world. And yet, it became perfect, because HE was in the middle of it. This season was about salvation coming to the world and feelings of overwhelming, live changing, mindblowing gratitude that left us so speechless that only Angels could sing it and Shepherds could kneel. This story was not left in scripture simply as a "warm fuzzy"moment...Jesus was guiding us to his perfect celebration!

Tis the Season...it's true. But don't let your quests for perfection and stuff and the comparison games ( aka "her mountain of presents is waaay bigger than mine!!" **stomp, stomp...pout**) get in the way of your celebration and love. Tis the Season for peace, giving, forgiveness, patience, kindness, compassion and love....Tis the Season, because He is in it.

Merry Christmas!

Lessons Learned From the Church Bathroom...

If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you'll know that I'm in, as artists say, my dark period. There are just things going on between me and God that I have been struggling with for a few months recently. Not sure where they came from, but nevertheless, their ugly heads have been raised and so, I write, as God continues to teach me lessons and work in my heart, fighting this raging battle within myself on what seems to be a daily basis...

First things first...for this entry to make sense, I have to tell you...I love my church. No, seriously, out of any church experience, I have ever, ever had in my life...4 Corners Community Church here in West Chester (www.4cornerschurch.com) has been life changing for myself and my husband, as well as our extended families...Now that you know that, I dive back into my entry...

On this particularly blustery, snowy morning, my husband and I were headed to church. We were headed on the freeway at 7-ish a.m. because we had been asked to do a duet with each other as a holiday special for church. It was at this point in our journey where the wiper blades became caked with ice, snow, and all other maladies, making it difficult for Hubs to know where he was going...we're talking visibility at zero here... with a car full of people and frustration mounting, we were able to veer off road at the nearest exit. The windshield wipers then decided to get stuck in their current postition. What was meant to be a "gentle tap?" ended up being an angry hand smacking the wiper switch down as my poor husband had finally lost his temper with the situation. What happens next can only be described as misfortune of sitcom proportions...Not only does the entire windshield wiper switch break off from my husband's short lived temper tantrum, but also the washer fluid decides to spray in a fountain all over the windshield, getting stuck in the on postion.

We pull into church, fluid spraying motor still running, frustrated, but also trying to focus on what we have been asked to do for our congregation and friends. The more I think about it, the more I started to feel like God has just allowed life to dump on us again (expletaves removed, but you get the idea of how upset I was). We keep finding ourselves in this pit, and all the little things adding up. Now on top of other "busted" things in life, we have a busted car, with no clue at this point a) how to fix said problem, and b) how much said problem will cost. Are we looking at under 100? 200? or something much, much greater.

I have to be honest here, at the early point of day, all of this exploded inside of me and I found myself rushing to the ladies room at our church to basically hold back the tears of anger and frustration I was feeling. I kept asking myself, why us? Why does the crap always happen to us and always at the worst times?! We had just dumped a lot of money the other day into putting on our son's 2nd birthday party. Why couldn't this have happened before we had spent that much?

As I got a cold, wet paper towel and tried to save face (literally, my "face" was running down my face), I looked around the church bathroom. I could see tiny cracks in the walls, little fractures, places where paint needed to be repaired. I knew there were other places needing repair within our church itself. But I stopped and thought about all of the wonderful things God had done through this broken building...the things He had brought into my life...the relationships and ( I love to say) amazing friendships he has built into us as a result of being able to meet together in this broken building...the moments of worship that had stirred me to the core, the messages our Pastor had brought that had changed lives...the inspiration to join together to build wells and orphanages and serve the community here nearby...If God can use a broken building for his good in our lives and the lives of so many, surely the things that are "busted" in my eyes and in my life are not without benefit?

I came out of the bathroom with a fresh set of eyes...yes, this ordeal was going to suck...big time. But, I knew my husband probably was already feeling a million times worse than I was, because he knew he could have prevented it. He needed my support and love, not my anger, frustration and nagging...

We got out there and performed. We did our best, all things considered. Maybe our duet wasn't perfect either, as the fractures in our car had left a few fractures in our minds...but my new perspective reminded me that life doesn't always have to be perfect to still be good.

I think Im going to hold onto that broken car piece as a little reminder. What areas of life seem "broken" or "busted" for you? How have they been or can they used by God in awesome ways?

Pray For Kate

As parents, I feel like my husband and I have been relatively lucky. God has blessed us with a pretty cool kid who, outside of some typical boy bumps, scrapes and bruises, very rarely gets sick. Sometimes I find myself taking it for granted, until it comes to light. When the Pediatrician says, "Wait, outside of that one time, you've only had to see me for well visits? WOW!" or when I hear of a co-worker, dealing with appointment after appointment and bill after bill for his sweet little guy, Im reminded that we got it pretty easy.
I stumbled upon a site this week called Pray For Kate ( http://www.prayforkate.com/#/home-page/ ) about a little girl named Kate. She is 5-ish from what I can tell and has been undergoing some extensive chemo treatments. Those of you who have been around adults in chemo know what a trying time that can be for a grown up to wrap their minds around. Think about what this little one is going through. All kinds of treatments and medicines and doctors and a lot of things she doesn't quite understand...
There are 2 things I have taken away from learning about Miss Kate:
1. Her parents are amazing. They have dedicated this battle to the Lord completely. I love the line her mom writes in the story about how "none of this has caught our God offguard". Even though they don't know the end of this story, they are fighting it side by side, with Kate and trusting in God's healing.
2. The second point I have taken away is an overwhelming gratefulness and blessing that washed over me today, after a feeling of incredible shame. Never, in my life as a parent, have I had to pray " Jesus, save my child. Save my baby. Heal my little one so they can live." No, my prayers are more often filled with requests for more. Give my husband a better job, give us a better home in a better neighborhood. Give, Give, Give....I find myself having taken for granted the "easy prayers" I have had to pray, that felt so tough and frustrating at that time. For some reason, its almost like my mind tells me I am entitled to things, instead of viewing them as things God has chosen to bless me with. Sometimes, it's almost like I don't mentally count it as a blessing unless it is a drastic change, a big move, something large and sparkly and expensive in worth in the eyes of man. And yet, there are parents out there , like Kate's, everyday on their knees, asking that God would intervene and save their child. It makes me wish I could take back some of those wasted prayers.
Please understand. It is not wrong to ask the Lord for things you want in your life. He even commands it in scripture that we share that child-like side of ourselves with him, because as our Father, he loves to hear what brings us joy. At the same time, He also wants us to wake up and realize there is so much more going on out there, beyond our self-imposed blinders; the blinders that say "why does this happen only to me?" "Why does everyone else..." and " It's not fair" and a myriad of other lies. Take off the blinders and remember that when you pray, you pray to the God of the universe who can do amazing things!
I encourage you to read Kate's story. I most definately encourage you to remember Kate and her family in your prayers. And if your prayers have been anything like some of mine, I challenge you to do a re-vamp of your conversations with God and instead of "give", insert a few new words like "show me where I can be your hands, lead me to where you need me to go, guide me to ways I can pour out your love" and, most importantly... "thank-you".

The Magic (of Christmas?)

I think we all reach this point sometimes... completely and utterly drained. Spiritually, Emotionally, Physically,....and we wonder why nothing and nobody is making us feel better. We want big changes to counteract the lack of "magic" we feel in ourselves.

When we were little and feeling down, someone we loved would generally pick us up, dust us off, and do something special to make us feel better. With my mom, it was a good dose of girl talk. With my dad, it was a hug and a laugh. Someone else created the magic in us that life was ok again. Now that we are adults, who does this now? Sure, our parents are generally always there for us, and mostly our spouses. But sometimes our spouses are caught in the drainage with us, because we are battling the same thing together. We stop and take a look around and think, How did I get here? I with my degree, and hard work, and dedication and goals? How do I not have the life of "my dreams"?

Yesterday, a friend of mine turned me onto a blog called "Stuff Christians Like". The author explains these moments through the response of God below...

http://stuffchristianslike.net/2010/12/the-soft-x/

“I know, my son, I know. I know, my daughter, I know. That thing you wanted is not going to happen. Not the way you’ve always dreamed. I know this hurts. I know this stings. I know you feel like I am distant or not aware of where you are and who hurt you and what you think life was supposed to be like. I know in moments like this you doubt that I can count the hairs on your head or have your best in mind. But please, I am not done. I have barely started to reveal your life to you. I am the God who satisfies your desires with good things. That is me! And when it comes to your hopes and your fears and your dreams, I know, my son, I know.”

We have to realize that while we strive and work and struggle to create the magic, the spark, the glow in life...sometimes it's not going to be there. God knows that. He knows that in this imperfect world, sometimes dreams get crushed and we face issues of doubt and sadness. But it is also in this moment where he reminds us to take stock of the good in the cards we currently hold. This is what brings me to Christmas...

Growing up, Christmases for my family were always magical, no matter how much money was spent. For my parents, there was always the "big reveal" and to them, it was worth more than the present itself. You could see the excitement on their faces; the way their eyes would light up and how they would reach for the other's hand in anticipation. The smiles on their faces (even after being woken up at 4:30 am, because "SANTA WAS HERE!!", when "SANTA" had just gone to bed at 4:15, after putting together that kitchen play set... Love you, Dad!) Some years the present was expensive, other years it just held special meaning, like a poem or a photograph. I can't deny that this "big reveal joy" has been instilled in me, down to my very core. I get choked up wrapping my son's Christmas gifts, so excited to see what his reactions will be. My heart warms at the fact that my son loves the movie Polar Express and can now sing the "Hot Chocolate" song with the best of them. I can't wait to make cookies with him and probably end up covered in flour! And this year, as I gain wisdom and experience in being a parent, Im learning on foundational truth:

Sometimes the "magic" comes back to us through the magic we create for others.

When my life seems to be lacking fulfillment, I'll just stop and hug my husband for a moment, leaning on his strength, or watch my son watching his favorite movie. I'll thank God that I have these 2 healthy and amazing men in my life and that we have a home, food and the money to even give gifts this year. And sure, those dreams of a better life or job or whatever seem to be residing in a far off place, but why should I let that rob my joy in these moments.

Enthusiasm is a Greek word that literally translated means "within God". Enthousiasmos literally means to be inspired by the presence of God(Theos meaning God). We refresh the joy and enthusiasm in our lives back when we find ourselves Within God. Samuel Ullman writes "Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." Our "magic" in life, our spark and enthusiasm is truly found when we are living our lives Within God. When we don't take for granted the blessings we have and when we allow ourselves to be filled up with the non-physical things like, love, laughter and the "Hot Chocolate Song" that we do have. When you look at things in that perspective, one may find themselves abundantly rich.

How wrinkled is your soul?

The Struggle

You say, "Trust Me".
I say, "I've got this. Thanks."
You whisper to my heart, "Trust Me."
I say, "No, really. I've got this. I'm fine. I can do this myself".
You ask, "Please, Trust Me..."
I get angry. " I can take care of this myself!"
You shout to my soul, "Trust ME!"
I cry, " I CAN'T"...

You whisper, "Why?". I return, "I'm scared..."
You hold me close. You say, " I know..."

You show "Trust Me" displayed in the lives of others.
I ponder, "I might...". I look around.
I think within myself, "Look. They trusted. It worked..." I step closer. I pause.
"but they're not me."

I run, I hide, I cry, I stress, I doubt, I question, I look, I search, I balance...
I come UN-balanced.

You speak "IM STILL HERE...". I smile "You haven't left?"
YOU show, YOU love, YOU orchestrate, YOU move...
YOUR Spirit touches, my fears begin to subside...

You whisper, "Trust Me." I whisper, "I will..."

Mommy for Always

5:30 am. The phone rings...I automatically turn it off, because I think it's my alarm and we all know Im a snoozer. It continues to ring. Finally my brain connects that someone is trying to call me at this awful hour of the day. I hear my mother in law's tearful voice on the other end, asking for my husband. She takes her strength from him and has some bad family news to share.



I lay there, listening to my husband melt away, hearing the sadness in his mother's voice. Before getting off of the phone, an amazing transformation occurs. My husband says "I love you Mommy. If you need me Im here..." Mommy? I just heard my 26 year old husband call his mother Mommy? The broad shouldered, exterior of a man has fallen away, revealing heart of the little boy inside who will always love his Mommy and cares that she is hurting. The depth of the mother and son connection hits me so hard that even at this hour of the morning, I am emotionally rocked by it.



In this moment of clarity, I realize...even though I am on the threshold of my baby boy becoming a little man...even though I feel like I am losing those precious Mommy moments, snuggles, hugs and "monster" kisses more and more as each day goes by, in this brief moment I have learned they are never gone forever. When I am truly upset and Gavin sees my tears, even at the tender age of almost 2, he runs over, wraps his little arms around me as far as they will go and says in his sweet voice " I love you toooooo Mommy!"



I have every confidence that my son will grow into a strong and wonderful man, sharing many of the traits of his father. He is like a sponge these days, absorbing everything he can about his Daddy. (Currently these days, he's trying to be a "Chef", taking random kitchen items and "cooking like Daddy!")And if he is anything like his daddy, I know that while the days of Monster Kisses may stay in the past, when the moment is right, I will always be his Mommy.

I'm The Fisherman's Wife...

There's an old proverb of a poor fisherman and his wife...despite their poverty, they were deliriously happy and in love. The fisherman encountered a "magical" fish, who because he caught and released him, gave the fisherman everything he asked. The first wish he made was for his wife, because he loved her so. He wished she could have a beautiful new dress. She had never had one before. As he arrived at home, ready to laugh in disbelief over this craziness of a talking fish, he saw his wife, dancing and spinning like a little girl, in a new dress. The fisherman's heart was full, because he saw the happiness in his wife. When he told her of how the dress appeared, the fisherman's wife began to look around. "Oh husband, just look at this house...all it's cracks and problems...could you go back to the fish and ask him for a new house? it is embarassing to have friends over with all their great homes compared to ours". So, because he loved his wife he went back to the magical fish and asked again for a new home, because he loved his wife.

As Im sure you can tell, with fables such as this, the fisherman's wife went on and on, asking for more and more "stuff". This saddened the fisherman, as he remembered their happy life before, enjoying the love of one another and the simplicity of their home.

Sometimes I feel like I am the Fisherman's wife. I look at the things I have and the things I think Im supposed to have...I treat God like a magical fish and keep asking and asking and never seeing the simple beauty in what I already had. I turn into a person obsessed with keeping up with what society says I should own, instead of looking to dig out of debt, be charitable, and think of ways to use money to help others instead of thinking about what I don't have myself. Its hard as we get older and contemplate the life we think we are "supposed to have". When we don't meet what our expectations say we should, we become so depressed with our current life, we fail to realize it's beauty. We fail to remember we have healthy children, loving relationships, friendship and laughter. We look at the roofs over our heads and only see their flaws instead of being thankful we have them.

Take time to enjoy the precious things, instead of wishing you had more. Fill your life with the haves, instead of the have-nots. Chances are, the rest of the world you're trying to keep up with has just as many have-nots as you do.

If We Are Faithful, He is...Silent?

We live in a world of instant gratification. Here in the magical land of texting, email, twittering, and other mysterious forms of conversation, we are happily placated by our instant responses. Even some of the best marital arguements happen over text and the winner is the one who texts faster...We do not, however, live in a world of silence. Silence is foreign to our generation.

Lately I have been struggling with something between myself and God. It's His silence. Not silence in a "we've had a fight and are not speaking" but silence in the fact that I have prayed and looked to Him for answers on a topic and still am not hearing...which in turn makes me pray harder and listen to His voice with more intensity...As mentioned in previous posts, I am a self-proclaimed control nut....so as one might imagine, this silence and waiting period has not been the easiest for me. :)

I've done so much searching scripturally on God and his faithfulness, his grace, his voice...and feel as though I have come up either empty or guilty. In what I had initially found God tells us not to worry about food or clothing or shelter...He will provide. And he has. I have all of the above. Food...yes. Shelter...absolutely...Clothing...a shamefully embarassing amount. So why am I feeling guilty? Because there are things I have been seeking that go beyond basic need. Do I have a right to ask for those things? Do those things matter to God because they matter to me?

It would seem like the world is against me every time I get close to those things.

Exhibit A...Many of our friends know this, but in the 3 years my hubs and I have enjoyed marital bliss, we have yet to be able to celebrate a "real" anniversary. We have loved the things we had done in the past, because, no matter how inexpensive they were, they were expressions of love to one another. But this year, it seems like we have really overcome much larger hurdles in our relationship and we both had the desire to celebrate in a big way.

I have been putting money aside, in the hopes that a real romantic evening can be had, and if possible, something special...beyond our usual nights out. And yet, car batteries die and precious guitars mysteriously get broken...and so my "Romantic Anniversary Fund" dwindles before my eyes...

I spent yesterday so confused...I didn't understand this concept of Faithfulness anymore...We have made a concentrated effort as a family to be more faithful in our relationship with God. We had increased our giving, gotten more involved in church, brought friends and family...And yet I was brought back to this question of, "if we have grown in our faithfulness, where is He?" And then the guilt returned...I have basic needs...What am I asking God for? He has so many other people to worry about.

Two reoccuring things ran through my mind...a friend had once reminded me, in the 300 years between the old and new testament, God was silent. But it was in His silence that He was working on the greatest gift in the world...planning the life of His Son, who redeeems us all! Another thing were the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, "How He Loves Us" . The lyrics talk about God's love for us, how his love is like a hurricane that surrounds us...and in the combination of those things I am reminded of the silence in the eye of the hurricane...

See, what we fail to realize in our lives of instant gratification, is that we may be right in the middle of his love, silent but surrounding us...and while we wait on Him for answers, growing in our faith and patience, he is working all around us, caring about our tiniest detail. In all my scripture research, I never searched God and his love...When the Bible talks of God and his love for his children, that's where the outpouring begins...thats where the blessings go beyond basic need to a Father loving his children... The Bible also says that "You do not receive, because you do not ask." Simply because our heavenly Father knows our hearts desires doesn't mean he doesn't love hearing about them.

If you are experiencing the silence...listen to His love speak.

Living the Dream?

I had a crazy dream last night...usually Im known for them. I have learned that the unexpected weird dream often has subliminal meaning....for example, that dream we have all experienced about our teeth falling out will often mean we are afraid of losing control of a situation...weird, I know. But for me, it rings unbelieveably true...

I am a control freak. I make lists upon lists, I do my budget 3 weeks out, I create plans for work, and if I don't have tabs on myself and those around me, I feel the slightest bit insane...The myriad of post it's covering my work monitor are only testimony to my need to balance everything. I remember after I first had our son, I wouldnt take any help offered, out of the need to do it myself. Asking for help would be a weakness, right? and that meant I was a bad mom? After a few days, I waved the white flag of surrender and gradually opened myself to accept the help of loved ones.

Last night's dream seemed to define for me how I feel life is going. There are days I don't feel like Im living, I feel like Im surviving...In this dream, all around me Im walking. The scenery constantly changes, but its mostly me, walking and carrying this ever increasing pile of stuff...in the dream Im almost toppling over at the balance of everything, struggling not to drop anything as though my life depended on it. Then, to my side in the dream, this person appears...I think he was a man, but not anyone I knew...not my husband or a family member or anything like that, and yet I had a familiarity to him. He kept offering me his help, begging to let me give him some of the weight I was struggling with. I remember he was someone whom I had a fondness towards, almost a love, but did not want to put all of my "baggage" on him...Didn't want him to feel my burdens, or know just how "heavy" things had become. Most of the dream after that point was me, tripping and falling and stumbling, but clinging to the weight of my "stuff", while this person never left my side, and never stopped offering his help and support.

It was only after I woke up that I realized what the significance of the dream was...The stuff in my hands was everything I try to balance by myself in life...schedules, finances, relationships, healthy, beauty, friendships old and new, housekeeping, work...work...more work..., worries, fears...I think my fears were the biggest boxes in my hands. I firmly believe the person by my side was representative of a Christ figure in my dream, always by my side, but I had to be willing to share my burden with him, so he could make it light. He would never force me to give it over, but wanted me to know He was there.

Carrying these burdens in life is something we all do. We struggle and stumble and, like me, fail to ask for help, for fear of being seen as a failure or as weak. We think we can manage and do it all on our own, and the truth is, we can't. But that is when He comes alongside of us, supporting us, and helping us carry the weight.

It is only when we rest our struggle in Him, that we stop stumbling and start walking again.

The Worst~Best 4th of July

Sometimes I believe I'm cursed. I tell my family this all the time and they just laugh at me. There are times when I really believe this to be true. There are bad things that happen to myself and my family that just don't happen to other people. On top of that, they trend to happen sequentially...as in a downpour.

It is this cursed existence that has caused me to be an obsessive planner. I live my life through a series of quotes and one of my favorites is "If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail". This is why, on the morning of the 4th, I was shaking blankets, washing coolers, packing toys, sticking snacks in baggies, checking lists, and doing everything possible to ensure that myself and my guests would have a relaxing day...Or rather, they would have a relaxing day, because I had gotten out all of my stressing in the morning.

As a family tradition, we have gone to the Blue Ash Fireworks here in Ohio...Red, White and Blue Ash? Get it...(cue drum and cymbal clash). The plan was leave church, take our (fully stocked) cooler and some fried chicken, board games and other activities and spend the day outside in the nice, comfy grass, watiting to watch the fireworks.

Unfortunately, my curse had other plans...

As we left church, my dad realized that he had locked his keys in the car...ok, no big deal, 45 minutes later, AAA had us on our way. The hubs and I made use of the time and went to the store to fill the cooler, grab some snacks and delicious KFC.

Finally, we arrive at the *new* location for the Blue Ash fireworks and not only can we not bring our cooler in (NOT published on the website!) but the cool, comfy grass is nowhere to be seen, replaced by burning, skin-frying, blacktop parking lot. Add to that the discomfort of ( 3 )diabetics, ( 1) 74 year old grandmother, and a toddler, all without fresh, cold drinks that didn't cost 7 dollars...and you had some seriously uncomfortable people. My hubs, bless him, ran around like a mad man, trying to make everyone as comfortable as possible. (and when I say mad man, the poor guy literally got bruises on his shoulders from carrying everything.)

I sat there, hot, thirsty, and worried about my family, especially my son and grandmother in this heat, and was 30 seconds to tears. My husband had loved this family tradition for years, how can I tell him I wanted to do nothing but go straight back home? My son would really get to see fireworks, how can I take that away from him? My son....my blessing.

As I cooled off mentally and physically, I watched my little guy...playing in some ice and dumping water on his own head. He didn't care! He was there with his people, hanging out and having fun. As the night went on, Gavin did everything possible to make us smile, from eating his bubbles while trying to blow them, to dancing like crazy to the band's music (emphasis on like crazy! coming to a YouTube near you!) and all around being awesome. The night winds came in and cooled us down. The fireworks began. Gavin crawled in my husbands lap to enjoy the show. I watched the two of them, the centers of my world, watching their fireworks together and I thought to myself...this is worth it. This is why I stuck it out today. That little head resting on that big shoulder, with eyes and mouth opened wide as my husband pointed out each big boom...

Halfway through the fireworks show, the comfort of daddy's shoulder coupled with exhaustion took over and Gavin fell comfortably asleep...but that image of my boys staring in wonder will stick with me for a while.

Sometimes we can't plan for everything...sometimes plans fail, even when you have done all you can to succeed. Sometimes you were meant to enjoy something that's off plan. And while Im going to send the city of Blue Ash a very pointed letter about bringing back coolers and grass, I have also learned that a cursed existance can still be a blessed existance. You just have to cool off and look for the good around you.