Today was a rough day. Lots of screaming, crying, and pouting...not to mention throwing things at heads...mostly all by me. (Spencer calls it spousal abuse. I call him a big baby.)
It ended, however, in absolute bliss.
You know those moments when the world just seems to slow to a standstill, you take a deep breath, and know that you'll remember this moment forever?
Yesterday, the only thing Ezra could talk about was seeing the fireworks. He ranted, he raved, he reminisced about last year's fireworks that Grandad set in the road. When the long-awaited darkness fell, we bundled the kids up, drove a mile up the road, found a good spot to watch from...and then the heavens opened and the rains came...and came...and came. We stuck it out until the 9:30pm start time just on the off-chance they somehow started the show anyway (after all, Ezra did say a very serious prayer about the rain stopping so we could see fireworks), only to turn around and morosely splish and splosh our way home.
Today was just as wet. I knew that in case of inclement weather (which had obviously happened) they were planning on setting the fireworks off tonight (the 5th), but as it had rained on and off all day, I didn't consider the chance of them actually doing it. Not to mention the kids were more then a little cranky from last night's un-fruitful rendezvous. So, to bed they went like normal, as did my husband. (paper route=very early bedtimes)
Well, at about 9:30 tonight, just as I was finishing up a quick run to Wal-Mart, I walked outside to be greeted by fireworks in the distance. Racing home as quickly as five miles over the speed limit would allow, I got home only about 12 minutes into the show. Rushing inside the house (and dropping items along the way), I woke up Ezra and told him there was a surprise outside. When he saw the fireworks, he couldn't stop his tired, little boy smile. Because of the big trees up and down our street, we couldn't see much of the show, but that didn't matter to Ez. We just sat on our wet lawn and watched the sparkles of color through the leaves.
At one point in time, Ezra asked me why I just got him up, instead of everyone. I told him that this was something that I just wanted to share with him and that sometimes being the biggest is tough, but sometimes it means you get to do special things. Then we giggled about how Scarlett would be running around and splashing in the puddles, instead of watching the fireworks and Georgia would most likely be laying on the ground whining. I remembered then what it's like to be a very small one in a family of many. Those times spent with just Mom or Dad are rare and priceless. When it comes to Ezra, especially, I spend time alone with him so infrequently. He has some difficult personality traits and would prefer to spend time with Daddy, so when we split the kids up, I typically take one or both of the girls and Ezra goes with Spencer. I guess I just forget how much I love just being with Ezra, my very first baby, and how much he loves just being with me.
Another thought I had was how our loving Father in Heaven found a way to answer a small, towheaded boy's prayer. Like I reminded Ezra last night after his very serious prayer, God answers in all sorts of ways, often in ways that we're not expecting. Yesterday, the rains didn't stop like Ezra wanted them to and he didn't get to see the much-anticipated show. But you know what, the rains did stop today and he did get to see his fireworks after all. I guess sometimes you just have to wait out the storm first.