On Saturday, we had Katrina's birthday party. She is turning thirteen this coming Sunday. It really was a lovely party. Katrina adores sweets of almost every kind, so it was not surprising when she requested an ice cream parlor theme.
Ice cream and fudge sauce flowed freely. Cones, toppings, whipped cream and cherries abounded. Our home was filled with sweet, giggling girls playing games and having fun.
Such a party can only happen with a lot of preparation. And, in my case, a lot of last-minute preparation. Katrina and I went out for a few hours on Friday afternoon (after a morning of ice-skating) to gather our supplies. After watching the entire three hours of Fiddler on the Roof with my children that evening, I stayed up into the wee hours of Saturday morning making up Bingo cards that fit our theme and began some of the decorating. As I wanted to make a candy bouquet I found on Pinterest (is that site a blessing or a curse??), I got up early Saturday morning to drive to the closest store that actually sells green twist candy - which is 45 minutes away. I seriously drove an hour and a half round-trip for a total of 3 minutes in that store! But, I got the candy.
I came home, finished the Bingo game-making, then began helping with the finishing touches of decorating. It was 30-minutes before the party was to begin and one of my daughters was cleaning the bathroom. She had asked her little brother to help. As little brothers are prone to do, he was being silly and foolish, but not very helpful. She scolded him, but he wasn't listening. Up until then, I had been doing pretty well in not getting stressed, though there was much to do and I was pretty tired already. But, I knew the 7 year old was not listening and we were in crunch time.
"ZANE!" I yelled.
Right then, my other son mentioned that the first of our guests had driven in. Figuring I had a minute while they parked their van, I continued my admonishment to my youngest. I continued it in the tone in which I had started - yelling. My back was turned to the door behind me and I did not know that my friend's husband had driven the girls and had kindly dropped them off at my door…where everything could be heard. When I finished my…um...admonishment, I turned around to see my friend's face in the window of my door with her girls behind her. All were laughing.
At that point, there is no going back. There's no explanation, no excuses to give. She caught me red-handed. I was in the flesh. I messed up. The only way out of this hole was admitting those obvious truths.
The good thing? This is a a friend who has always been very real with me. This is a friend who has told me of her struggles in this area. This is a friend whom I have attempted to comfort in admitting that I struggle, too. She got to witness my struggle first-hand. She now knows for certain I wasn't lying. She and her daughters have proof that I am a low-down sinner. And they still love me.
Do I feel bad? yes. But, I am glad that my Father forgives me and has given me children and dear friends who forgive me, as well. I have recently begun to pray for humility. Funny how some prayers get answered so much quicker than others.
Loss of sleep…check.
Drive hither and yon…check.
Yell at kids…check.
Have a great party…check.
Welcome to…my (very real) life!