Adapting to last minute changes

Yesterday was Wynter's very first 4th of July, and Oliver's 3rd.  This year is the first year that Andrew and I didn't even contemplate making plans to see any fireworks.  We saw some on our drive home from my mom's house where we'd spent the evening, but other than that we chose not to care about firework shows this year.

Instead we had a little bonfire, barbecued hamburgers with my brothers, roasted hotdogs, and made s'mores.

I had made all these plans about going to my mom's, taking our time to get a fire built, roasting hot dogs together, and then making s'mores as the sun set.  I knew it would be more difficult with the kids, but I figured if we didn't rush things and we worked together it would still be lots of fun.  I was going to take pictures of us around the fire, happy, laughing, and having fun.

Nothing went like I'd planned.

Instead some of the boys wanted hamburgers, and Andrew decided he also wanted a hamburger.  The only person who roasted any hotdogs was me.  Can you picture that? Me, all alone, sitting at the fire, holding a baby and trying to roast a hot dog.  The first one fell into the fire.  The second one I got roasted just right while my mom held Wynter.  But I was feeling a little upset that the plans I had carefully made and the dinner I had thoughtfully put together had been completely ignored.

Then, I'd barely finished eating my 1 hot dog before all the boys decided it was time to do s'mores.  So I scarfed down a few marshmellows and one s'more before I had to go nurse Wynter because she was so very unhappy, hungry, and tired.

I grabbed some more food for myself because one hot dog does not a dinner make, and headed into the game room to sulk and watch tv while I nursed Wynter.

After a while I was able to rejoin the family for a little bit and take some pictures that I actually love.

Gorgeous baby girl having a happy moment.

Daddy and son dipping their feet in the pool.

After being outside, enjoying the cooler weather from after the rain we had earlier in the day, we all found our way back inside.  Wynter began to have another meltdown, so while I tried to calm her the boys cleaned up our dinner mess.  It wasn't long before I was on the verge of a meltdown myself.  My brothers set up to play a card game, and I was ready to leave and call it a night. 

My brother, Jesse.

My brother, Judah.

My brother, Justin.

Andrew wanted to stay a little longer so we headed upstairs to see if we would have better luck with playing in the game room, and we did.

By the time we finally left both Andrew and I were exhausted physically and emotionally.  We barely cared about anything but getting home and getting the kids in bed, then crashing ourselves.  All of which we did.

I remember that my brothers made a few comments during the night that made me less than proud of the way we handled our evening.  They commented that parenting looked stressful, and it is, but I want them to see how much we love our kids too and that though it can be rough it's also brought us some of the happiest times we've ever had.

The day did not go at all how I had planned, in fact almost every single plan I made was thwarted and changed.  I'm trying to learn to be flexible so that days like yesterday don't bother me, but I was not flexible last night.  Instead of changing my own plans to fit with everyone else, I became sour and unhappy and I did not reflect the love of Christ at all.

I know that writing this post, about what a horrible 4th I had, is probably not at all what would be expected, but sometimes we have holidays like this.  We make plans and then we feel slighted because others ignore our plans and do something else.  I'm not going to pretend I had a great evening, I was unhappy and unflexible, and I need to learn to respond with love and grace when plans change. 

How was your 4th of July celebration?  Did things go as planned, or did you have to go with the flow? Are you good at being flexible, or are you like me and have a hard time adapting to last minute changes?