I hit the motherload.

Just minutes ago I hit the motherload. Under one of the seats of my minivan, just waiting for a diligent mother, was a lost Barbie DVD, the pre-teen’s favorite flowered flip-flop, and the toddler’s teeny pink croc. Wow, two pairs of shoes have been rightfully reunited and that makes this mother very very happy!! I won’t tell you about all the discarded Easter candy wrappers, and candy (some chocolate) and cheez-its and fruit snacks and french fries I had to wade through to hit my motherload, it would just be embarrassing and may make you question this mother’s luck. Or worse, my ability to teach my children hygeine. “Cleanliness is next to Godliness, dears. (In my sweetest tone)  How many times do I have to tell you?” (In not such a sweet tone) No, let’s just focus on how totally lucky I am.
I was on hands and knees with my hindside perfectly wedged between the carseat and the van door searching diligently for one thing and one thing alone: the pacifier. The dreaded yet much needed pacifier. I am not talking about the baby needing it, although she is addicted. But, once again, this post is about me and my good fortune, not my children and all that is wrong with them because of me. No, I am the one that needs that pacifier. If it’s up to me, she will have it until she is five, and in kindergarten, cause let’s face it, my house is loud, and getting louder every day. 
My four girls could take on my family of upbringing without a worry. Who cares that we’d be outnumbered by three? We would win a decibel contest…with flying musical instruments.  I am talking by the brass section or even the percussion. So, every bit helps in the hushing of my brood, and that teeny pacifier is my saving grace. And for some reason the baby likes to play fetch with mommy. The little monster. She knows when I am most needing silence. And she always seems to know when mommy is most desperate for quiet. Which only happens when we are down to the last pacifier. You would never believe me when I tell you that we really do own 6 of them. You especially wouldn’t believe me when I tell you that at least once a day, we can’t find a single one of them. I would love to share all my sane moments with the inventor of the pacifier. I do have one question though, why couldn’t God send an nondetachable perfectly matching built in one for each and every baby? Those darn velcro tie things can’t withstand the wrath of my 2 year old.
Back to the motherload. Mother’s Day was last weekend. I scored. My amazing husband (and I guess my kids too) got me a beautiful silver ring, a pedicure and a Costco membership. How could I ever complain, right? Wrong. Do you know what my best mother’s day gift was? Remember I am the luckiest girl alive. My motto is all or nothing…especially when it comes to cleaning. My children’s real gift to me on Mother’s Day was a whole sippy cup of milk…wait for it….dumped everywhere (and I mean everywhere)…wait for some more… on the second pew back… in the middle of Sacrament meeting. On the baby. On her blanket. On the pew. On the carpet. On every single toy and every single snack baggy and every single page of every single board-book. Even on the hymn book. You see, I am the luckiest mother alive and Abigail had helped get the baby’s “shut up and be happy bag” ready for church as part of Operation Pamper Mom Day. She did a great job. She just forgot one thing: the plastic piece that holds the milk inside the cup.
This luckiest mother alive…and smartest mother alive ..sent her hubby out with the screaming baby. The baby had accomplished her role in helping to spread (or should I say pour) the joy..everywhere and was upset that she had no milk left. And who knows where the pacifier was. It’s always hiding when we need it. I used a diaper and the dry portions of the baby’s blankie to soak up as much as I could. And then I took out my baby wipes and had sanitizer for the rest of the sour prevention duties. In the background I could hear people. They were faint in volume compared to my task at hand, but I think they were talking about how wonderful their mothers were. I am not quite sure why they thought they were so wonderful, but I have a good idea, or two, or three. 
All the while I am thinking, “Oh how lucky I am to be a mother. Someday when I am dead, my kids may get up in church and talk about how wonderful I am.” They won’t even recall this fiasco. They won’t say “only a mother can handle a situation like that.” And as I am having this conversation with myself, I finished the clean up job and found the pacifier under the pew. I simultaneously had the thought that they won’t have to remember this. No they won’t have to remember any part of it, because hopefully, if I have any luck at all, they will someday get to live it. The motherload indeed. I couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day.

And here I am a few days later. Once again, a pink croc is missing and we are down to the last pacifier. Yes, the cycle will continue on forever. As long as there are women out there who are willing to have children.

17 comments

  1. Thanks for the real glimpse into motherhood. That sounds just like our van and some of our church meetings. What an adventure. OUr new baby is NOT taking too well to the pacifier that we regularly gag him with.

  2. I actually would believe having a bunch of binkies and not being able to find a one! You should have seen us last year on our vacation. we took every binky we could find at home, probably about 10. and inside the confines of our van, there were times we couldn't find 1 single binky. Now that he's been off the binky for 6 months, we find them all over the house!

    And God DOES provide a perfectly fitting binky for every single kid. It's called a thumb. And at almost 6, our short1 still turns to his “natural binky” from time to time.

  3. Oh how I can relate to these moments… the Mother's load… more appropriate title for this post I think.

    My grand-girls have a ton of flops (Miss Maddy's terminology) and when its time to head out the door do you think we can easily find two matching flip-flops??? Nope!

    This is REAL life…

    ToOdLeS.

  4. I actually would believe having a bunch of binkies and not being able to find a one! You should have seen us last year on our vacation. we took every binky we could find at home, probably about 10. and inside the confines of our van, there were times we couldn't find 1 single binky. Now that he's been off the binky for 6 months, we find them all over the house!

    And God DOES provide a perfectly fitting binky for every single kid. It's called a thumb. And at almost 6, our short1 still turns to his “natural binky” from time to time.

  5. I like your title Sheila. It would have been perfect. Just sad I didn't think of it first. I saw a kid at the park the other day wearing two different flipflops and I asked myself why not? 

  6. Lynette, I have always been glad that none of my kids sucked their thumbs, but right about now I may start praying for a thumbsucker. 

  7.  Hi Marilyn, I still have an e-mail in my box to respond to from you. I wanted to give you a proper congratulatory message. Is this #8 now? I always lose track. I thought you guys were done. I will hope that the baby will take to the pacifier quick, even though your kids are much quieter than ours, I am sure you need a little respite.

  8.  Don't know if I've told you before or not but….I love love love reading your blog.  I'm not witty at all, or funny, or a good writer…and you are all of them.  Bravo…bravo… ::slow clap::

  9. I hope this comment moderator is working. Thank you so much Teresa. You are too sweet. It's comments like this that remind me how much I love to blog. I am glad that you have enjoyed something. Anything. Even if it's just one sentence. I also appreciate you commenting so I can see if this is working. 

  10.  Thanks Kathy. I was just reading your blog too. 🙂 I am going to e-mail you one of these days about getting together. We are mostly settled in now, but will now have a lot of our weekend full with track meets and softball games, but I totally want to get together. Maybe I can get LG to take the baby for lunch one day and can come down there and take you out.

  11. Alice I love ready your blog it makes me laugh and cry sometimes. I miss my kids being little and so wish I could turn back time so I could. By the way my daughter is back in Utah her blog is http://jessychad.blogspot.com/.  You should ck it out sometime when you get a chance. Take care and miss you.

  12. Love your blog!! I look forward to checking it out each day when I get to work. I know I will always smile.

  13. Ok funny Kathy. I thought you were my other friend Kathy. That is why none of this actually made sense to you. I actually need to go and check out your blog. I am going to do it right now. 

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