The Trip

The Trip

Paris, city of lights, city of history, city of culture...

When I bought tickets on a whim to come to visit our family, I had a list of everything we wanted to do.  I had visions of me cuddling my brand new niece while all the older cousins played. I saw myself  having heart to heart conversations with our brothers, sisters, and close family and friends, and watch my kids enjoy time with their grandparents that they adore. 

 In the real world, however, things are never as they appear in your dreams.

I never would have dreamt that I would be cuddling my new niece at her 24 year old auntie's funeral. I didn't imagine that our family heart talks would be amongst funeral planning and mourning. I forgot that kids fight and pee and make giant messes, especially when there is a large group of them ages 5 and under. 

 And I couldn't have possibly imagined the thankfulness I felt toward God that I was here during this delicate, amazing, but very painful time in our family's life. I never would have envisioned the sheer awe I felt at our Creator when our camping trip on an island on the Atlantic Ocean resulted in some of the most breath taking sun rises and sun sets I've ever seen, and that my kids not only had some of the best times of their lives with their grandparents, but also with their great grandmother too. 

I also never thought I would believe in magic, but hearing my 3 year old scream with delight on a roller coaster, "I'm jutht thoooooooo happy!" made my heart almost burst with joy and had me believing, for the day at least.

I couldn't have fathomed the sheer relief that washed over me when  I walked through the exit doors at Vancouver airport, knowing that helping hands were just a minute away to help me wrangle 3 sick kids and all the luggage. 

And just in case you were wondering, here is some travel advice when voyaging with small children. 

 1) Do not think about germs when your child decides to have a temper tantrum by hurling themselves on the floor of the carpeted airport, face first. Or when they drop that sucker on the ground and put it back in their mouths before you can stop them. Or when they drag their blankies all over the airplane and then bury their face in them. If you do, you will be convinced just 15 minutes into your flight that you will need emergency services and be quarantined and need biohazard suits upon landing. Come to think of it, maybe you should just dress your kids in a biohazard suit for the trip, just to be safe. 

2) Night flights do not always ensure that your children will doze off. In fact, it may cause them to be even more awake and hyper. 

3) Even though it seems like a good idea while camping to have 2 kids in a bike trailer and one on the back of your bike to pick up your take out dinner, don't do it. Your pizza will fall cheesy-side-down in the sand, and you will have to face the wrath of 3 hungry kids. 

4) Even the lightest turbulence can cause a child's tummy to hurt. Bring 3 extra plastic bags per passenger. One to puke in, one for your clothing, and one for your neighbors' clothing should the vomit be projectile. Oh, and bring cash to pay for their dry cleaning bill.

5) Expect the unexpected. Always. 

6) Do not forget baby wipes. 

7) Bring a change of clothing. For yourself. You will be grateful to have it after that bean and onion salad falls into your  lap and another's diaper leeks all over you. Just saying.

8) Be very, very, very nice to your flight attendants (and teach your kids to be too!). They will then bring you oven-warmed cookies, sneak your kids extra cheese, crackers, and fruit from 1st class, and hold your baby while you go to the loo. They can make or break your flight, so remember to treat them right. 

9) Know that if your children have acted like perfect angels for 3 weeks, you can expect the temper-tantrum volcano to blow when you are finally alone with them on your return flight. That bean salad didn't just fall in your lap. And that diaper didn't leak because it was faulty... angry kids throw things and babies can only handle being held on your lap for so long before they lose it and thrash and twist and do everything they can to get out of your death hold on them during turbulence. 

10) Enjoy your kids. Remember that it is a fun adventure for them if you make it one. Let the 5 year old take the baby for a walk around the airport on her leash--er, baby harness.  Treat the scary airplane bathroom noises like a spaceship that's blasting off.  Pretend to be secret spies sneaking through security and that you just got caught when they want to do drug testing on you. And the best advice  I could give is: Just grit your teeth, don't stress, and take what comes minute by minute.  There are many kind people that will  help you. Don't be shy in accepting their offers to take a bag or take the suitcase off the baggage carousel. When things go awry, keep your cool and just go with the flow. And you'll see that not only will you survive your trip, but you might even find some moments where you have fun.  And the icing on the cake is that in the end, you will look back on that trip and have a good belly laugh when you think of your idiocy in traveling alone to Europe with 3 babies. 

Fin

On Impulse Buying

I used to be described as an impulse decision maker. Julien says I possess the ability to reason from A-Z without stopping at BCDE.....) and come to the right decision. In recent years though, I've tamed myself and learned through my marriage to "slow down" for the sake of my husband and everyone else who reasons differently. While we often come to the same conclusion, I've learned to bite my tongue and let him go through A, then B, then C all the way to Z so he can process everything and come to his conclusion without me pointing out what, (to me), is the obvious choice.
Every once in a while, though, that impulsivity breaks through, and I end up doing something that, to most, seems kind of nuts.

Case and point.

I was transferring photos from last summer to the external hard drive and reminiscing about the fun times with our extended family and dear friends in Paris. That took me to pictures of our old flat with its view of the Eiffel Tower. Which led to my taste buds tingling for foie gras with onion jelly and a fresh crusty baguette with hand churned butter. Which led to me thinking about the next time we could go back and enjoy the Tuileries garden and walk along the Seine river. Which led to me remembering all the good times in Paris (obviously forgetting the hard ones). Which led to homesickness for the land I called home for so many years.

I sighed and turned off the computer and came upstairs to clean for the 90th time that day. Our house is for sale, you see, and with regular showings and 3 little kids, it's a full time job keeping it show ready. As I was tidying, an idea started to form in my head. "What if we went back in October or November? We could surprise the family! Hmm, a whole 2 weeks without having to keep the house ready? Sounds good to me!"

 So I worked out my not-really-serious-just-a-dream- plan in mu head, finished my tasks and went back to look for flights to the city of lights.
Tickets, of course, were unreasonably expensive. Layovers were too long between flights. The dates I thought could possible work didn't for one reason or another. And then, at the bottom of one flight search, a bright blinking sign: "Vancouver Paris flights up to 70%off!"
I never click. Like, ever. But this time, for whatever reason, I did. A flight, leaving less than 2 days later, had a huge fare drop. It was direct, no layovers. Cue my impulsivity.
My plan from A-Z was complete in less than 2 seconds, I called my husband, rattled off the details, got his accord, and threw myself headlong into buying the tickets for myself.
Voila, that's the story of how I "impulsively" bought tickets for a "whirlwind"trip to Paris. I am elated, excited for my girls to stay in their other homeland for a bit and see their much-missed and often thought-about family.

While it looks to the world that this is a crazy, random, whirlwind of a thing to do, I actually think it's been a long time coming. A taste of extreme joy in the midst of a very tough year. A year where I was diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder that causes migraines, temporary paralysis and painful pins and needles on a permanent basis and for which there is no known cure. A year of illness, surgery and then emergency surgery for my youngest baby. A year of watching a few loved ones battle cancer. A year with no breaks or reprieve or breathing time. And I feel very very blessed to be able to go and change up the daily status quo, to spend time in prayer and read my Bible in one of the most beautiful cities on earth (minus the doggy-doo; you can read that story here)

I have to admit that I am kind of terrified for the flight, but many have gone before me, and all I can do is take it minute by minute (and excessively bribe my children to be perfect little angels!

So for now, please pray a Bon voyage for us, and au revoir et a tres bientot!

300

The 300 men stared down into the valley from their mountainside perch, sizing up the seemingly innumerable enemy below them. 

Their leader was a fearful man who had no hope of boosting courage among his tiny ranks. It was a fair assessment to say the odds were clearly against them. 450 to 1 in fact. A chance of 0.002% that they would win the battle. Their task to take back their homeland was, simply put, impossible. 

As I gaze down at the valley of my life tonight, I feel like the fearful leader. The odds are against me, 450 to 1. 

*Watching a parent battling a dreaded disease that already claimed the life of the other.

*The difficulties that accompany a yet to be diagnosed neurological disorder that randomly comes and goes, leaving my face paralyzed, other parts of my body in severe pain, and my fine motor skills almost none existent.

*The mental and physical exhaustion that comes with raising small still-not-sleeping-through-the-night kind of kids.

*Having 3 very accident prone, surgery requiring kind of kids.

*The overwhelming demands of keeping a house in order with toddlers around and hands that don't cooperate.

*The challenge of being a good wife to my hard working and not-here -very -often husband, even after a long day of cleaning up spilled milk,  being covered in oatmeal and boogers, and playing referee to little squabblers.

*The major task of homeschooling my oldest child.

My odds of winning this battle are 0%, much less coming out alive with my sanity intact. I cannot do this on my own. Of my own strength, I have nothing to bring to this battle. Nothing. My body is weak, in pain, and uncooperative. My mind is so very tired from 5 years of severe sleep deprivation and stress. My spirit is crushed from watching my loved ones get sick. It is abundantly clear that I don't have the strength to make it through even one more day. 

The 300 and their leader have quite an extraordinary story. Their mission was impossible. They had a 0% percent chance of winning, and were trembling in their boots. Why would they go into a battle they couldn't win? 

 It's because God himself put these 300 in this position of impossibility so the people would know His strength. To show that human impossibility was not only possible, but already accomplished with Him.

Those 300 men won their land back in a landslide victory with only glass pitchers, torches, and trumpets. Not even swords. The strategy God used to win the battle was so ridiculous to our way of thinking. And yet, it showed how much we really don't know, and just how powerful God is.

What's my point in telling you all this? 

Well, it's a sort of confession. I had a friend tell me she didn't know how I was hanging in there and said how strong she thought I was. The truth be told,  I am not making through the day on my own. As much as I would love to take credit, I can't. The me that is hidden to most of the world is fragile, lonely, broken, exhausted, and discouraged. But the One sustaining me does the impossible. When I make it through a day in one piece,  I am a testament to His mercy. To His strength. To His comfort. To His patience. Not my own.

Some days, I get it wrong. I forget to start my battle on my knees before the God of heaven and earth. I try to do everything on my own strength, to feed my own pride and let everyone see how strong I am. 

On those days, I have a 0% chance of winning. I fail miserably. I am reminded of how frail I really am. Because the truth is that I cannot do this alone. Nor was I meant to.

If there is one thing that I am slowly learning through all of this, it's that sheer desperation and dependance on God is actually a good thing. He is the only one who can accomplish the impossible. And so here I am today, telling you straight up that I am not getting by on my own strength. I am not strong, but actually very weak. But in my weakness, I am made strong.

It is God who is strong and carries my load. It is God who gives me the patience when I can't get the diaper tabs open because my fingers aren't working. It is God who comforts me even through the illness of those I love. It is God who gives me the physical strength to make it through the day even when my eyes are stinging from lack of sleep and my patience lacking. It is because of God that I can make it out of bed every morning to face the difficulties I know are waiting for me.  It is God, and ONLY God.

I don't know what other difficulties lie ahead for me. I'm sure there will be many. But I choose (minute by minute!) to let God fight this battle for me. He's the only one who can. And history would dictate that in the end, when all is said and done, there will be no dispute that it was God that carried me through.