Another year....

It's day four, folks (although yesterday's picture was kind of a cheat...), and pretty soon 1. Tyler is going to wonder why he doesn't have any clean underwear in his closet, and 2. you're going to get really tired of me. :) But I'm so close to proving myself wrong that I can't give up just yet!

You know it's a good story when I post pictures of myself. Heh. This is me with my best "Um, what's going on here?" look, walking in from the three hour trip home from Cincinnati on Sunday night (just me with the kids, where we endured only one potty stop in a gross gas station bathroom, one fit from the three year old, and one Starbucks stop for a Pumpkin Spice Latte for my reward for surviving the trip solo...). Clearly I grabbed all of the essentials out of the van so I could get the kids to bed immediately - pillows, the Elmo potty seat, and Tess's favorite sleeping buddy (Lord, please don't ever let anything happen to that crazy monkey). It was 8:30pm, and with school the next day, I had directed the boys to head upstairs and get their jammies on ASAP.

But instead of catching Daddy watching Sunday night football like we expected, we walked into a party! My birthday was a couple of days away, and Tyler had been scheming all weekend so he could surprise me when we returned. I thought he was being a little obscure when I asked him what he had been doing with the house all to himself for a couple of days. :)

We waded through a sea of pink streamers and lit candles in the kitchen (and a super clean house, by the way, which gets major points), and made it to the table full of presents (doesn't his wrapping paper pick crack you up?!), cake and ice cream. At first I was a little hesitant - all smart daddies should know that you don't ever mess with a tired momma's planned bedtime routine.

Unless you're throwing her a party, that is. I am totally laughing here because every kid is whining about wanting to be the one to blow out the candle. When you're a mom, that is sort of how birthdays go. Thank goodness for Tyler's sweet effort, because my actual birthday was full of exhaustion and kid drama. For every birthday phone call I got, there were four needy little people lined up one behind the other, waiting to ask me the most important question of their life. I finally just stopped answering the phone because that just meant that everyone might need something all over again. And even though moms try to act like they don't need someone to make a big fuss over them (and busy themselves with doing the fussing over everyone else), it sure is nice to feel appreciated every once in a while. If you look closely, you can see tears running down my face in this picture. Duh. I seriously must be getting old if cried over a dumb pair of tennis shoes. But when I opened them, plus other boxes filled with brand new workout clothes, I didn't see just the neatly wrapped gifts.

I saw a husband who has listened to my words, and who cares about what I care about.

I heard him supporting my efforts to work hard so I can stay fit and feel young.

I felt him encouraging me to take the time to work out, even when I battle the guilt of feeling like I should be doing something else that would seem to benefit my family more as a whole.

I saw shoes and clothes that I would never buy for myself, and felt so loved that he would take the time to figure out just what I would need.

Another year incredibly blessed by such loyal and sacrificial love... noticed in the perfect pair of Nike tennis shoes.

Who knew.

Fourteen

That's how many years I've been married to this man. Before fourteen, we went on quite a few mission trips together during our college days. Before fourteen we tried setting the other up with our good friends. He even trusted me to start cutting his hair when we were just buddies (either he was cheap or he wanted an excuse to sit close to me...). A few years before fourteen we debated and fought like siblings. And then we got engaged and never looked back.

Fourteen years ago, we walked Purdue graduation together, then began our married life with a journey to Arizona for Tyler's first job. We were young, half-way fearless, but mostly cheap, so we slept in the back of our U-Haul to save money on our drive out. It was a fourteen-footer (see fourteen is magical!), and with hardly any furniture to our names, our 6'3 and 5'10 frames had plenty of space to sprawl out on sleeping bags for the night. We even put safety first and jammed a wood block in the top of the back door since we couldn't lock ourselves in from the inside.

See, I did use my college education for something other than changing diapers. Street smart, I tell ya. Unless you're talking about being locked in the back of a U-Haul on a drive out West in the middle of blazing July heat.

Good thing we spent the weekend in Chicago celebrating, because on our anniversary night we're taking four energetic children to the local fair. At fourteen you splurge, and then you get practical, because there are traditions to keep and family night fair deals that can't be missed. Tonight we won't talk about dreamy love. Instead we'll talk about the outrageous cost of fair corndogs, how three year olds can't possibly behave in 100 degree heat, and we'll encourage our mini 4-H'er with gushy words about his coin collection displayed in an egg carton.

All in the name of love, of course.

Fourteen.

At fourteen, fancy Chicago meals turn into conversations about our kids, and leisurely strolls down Michigan Avenue turn into photo shoots of elite cars that our boys will absolutely flip over. At fourteen, we choose the American Girl store over Nordstroms, and she doesn't even own one yet. Afternoons in famous city parks freeze in time long enough to answer texts from a nine year old, who is beyond excited to report that his grandma is playing Hearts with him while the little ones nap. Quiet hotel moments become beautiful times of prayer as husband and wife, lifting our family - and each of our children specifically- up to the One who made it all possible fourteen years ago today.

Fourteen has changed us. Physically, demographically, and in numbers.

And fourteen couldn't be sweeter...

"The Lord has done great things for us,

and we are filled with joy..." - Psalm 126:3

Father's Day every day...

Do you ever click through old pictures and get to one that brings back a flood of memories? I did that recently with this one. Jack was four, and was admitted at St. Vincent Children's Hospital. A day or two expected hospital stay post-surgery had turned into five, and we were all a little bit weary at this point. One sweet, patient daddy took over and helped Jack finally visit the playroom down the hall, IV pole, loads of tubing and all. You look at this picture and see a pale, puffy four year old working on a puzzle. My heart knows the full story of how much that daddy loved on his boy that day.

A few years ago I read an article encouraging wives to affirm their husbands with spoken or written words. I took the challenge and left a note showing my appreciation for him on his bathroom sink the next morning.

And I learned something that day.

Men need to hear those words. Even if they act like they don't.

Seven years later, that note is still tucked away in his vanity drawer, in full view when he grabs his toiletries each morning. I'm humbled by that, and reminded that I need to do it more often. Father's Day is a great day to recognize Tyler, but my spoken affection for him shouldn't be limited to just special occasions.

I'm thankful for pictures like these that give me a good place to start...

“Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. " Proverbs 31:11-12