the storm

We shut the door on the kids. That simple act, arguably, was one of the best parenting moves we've ever done.

We had just come back from a church retreat at Timberwolf Lodge. Jon and I were exhausted. All of the people who told us that we were crazy to do a weekend retreat with a newborn (and 3 other kids) were absolutely right. it was crazy.

Despite the craziness, the kids had a glorious time. "This is better than being at home" was David's proclamation as he and Claire and Jacob "settled in" for the night in our 6 bunk bed cabin room, not falling asleep until close to midnight both of the nights we were there.

When we got back home on Sunday afternoon, we unpacked and then had the brilliant idea to put the kids to bed at 6:30, thinking they would fall asleep immediately upon hitting their pillows.

No such luck.

The first sign of the storm was David, at the top of the stairs, yelling "It's a party!" "Go back to bed" we said. A few minutes later we heard a big thud and some muffled laughing and screaming.

This is what we saw when we opened the door to their bedroom: the three kids stripped down to their underwear/diapers, all the bedding from the beds and the closet in a huge pile in the middle of the room, pillows being thrown every which way, and all of them yelling "It's a party!" (though in Jacobese it was "Pardy! Pardy! Pardy!)

As I said, we looked. We shut the door. We went downstairs and let them celebrate for another 1/2 hour.