grace in the ridiculous

So... picture this, if you will.

The children and I are sixty miles from home, shopping in the late afternoon in the back corner of a large department store. I am wearing a lovely white shirt and holding Abraham when suddenly... I smell something. And feel something.

Oh dear.

Does this kind of predicament ever happen to the rest of you mommies? Or are your sons not so incredibly adept as mine at blowing out diapers? Because there is nothing like wearing a white shirt and suddenly discovering that you are covered, and I do mean covered, in baby poop. Copious amounts of it.

We were so far away from the restrooms and the stuff was escaping the diaper so fast that I ended up doing a change right there in the toy aisle. Have you ever been mortified? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what mortification looks like. Kneeling in the toy aisle, covered in baby poop, frantically trying to wipe it away with a plethera of baby wipes, changing a wriggly toddler, trying to find a spot in my purse to tuck the boy’s soiled clothes and that awful diaper...

No, wait. I forgot something.

The real mortification came ten minutes later, when I had collected myself enough to brave the walk to the front of the store. Not having grabbed a cart, there I am trying to balance two photo books and the photo frame... items which I’d been intending to buy for months, and I finally made it to the store, and they were all on sale, and there was no way I was leaving them behind... and trying to cover my soiled shirt by placing Abraham in front of it. (Because he still doesn’t walk, so I still have to carry him.)

And he threw the biggest fit he’s ever thrown. What an amazing fit!

His rationale behind the screaming, which continued for a full ten or fifteen minutes until we got out of the store, was that I had let him play with a delightful red fire truck in the toy aisle. Apparently, his assumption was that it now belonged to him, or something, and he was absolutely outraged to the point of angry tears that I made him leave it there... and even did him the indignity of asking him to say goodbye to it! The nerve!!

It has been so long since Rilla even got whiny when we left the toy aisle that I’d forgotten children did such things. (Silly me!) Rilla quietly and obediently picked up the toys she’d been playing with and put them away without even an ounce of protest. Having never, ever been given a toy from the toy aisle, I don’t think she’s aware that such things can even happen. (Oh, how thankful I was for her obedience that day!)

Abraham, though, had apparently not yet received that training. Somehow I hadn’t realized that we hadn’t gone through that yet with him! So what could I do but let him scream as I carried him to the front of the store... and through the checkout line... and to the car? (It was an amazing fit!!) Next time, he will know that things which we play with in the toy aisle have to stay in the toy aisle, and I expect that the screaming will be reduced to only a bit of grumbling.

But still. I guess the point of this little tale... only one of many crazy, unbelievable things that have happened to me since becoming a mama... oh, the odd places that I have nursed babies! and the bizarre things I find myself saying!... is that motherhood has the most lovely way of humbling me. And stretching me. And growing me up.

And I guess the odd thing is that even in this situation, mortification really isn’t the right word for it. I found myself mired in disbelief at a few points... is this really happening?? okay, yep, it is... but the real matter at hand was how to handle the situation in a way that would properly train my children. They both needed to know that Abraham’s screaming would not get him his way. And for some reason, I was so focused on that aspect of it, I didn't even blush all that crazy way through the checkout line as he continued to yell and cry. Even though I'm pretty sure some other people were embarrassed on my behalf, and likely doubting my abilities to parent.

Even more than all of that, though... I guess I can’t sum it all up here, but I read this post on another blog today that really did describe it better, how all of the crazy things that happen to us as moms are opportunities for transformation. (Department store blowouts and meltdowns included.) They are moments when God allows us to truly live out gospel application in the most unexpected kinds of ways. I don’t know if that all makes sense, but I feel like I’m starting to get it. Sometimes. In the moments when this stuff happens and God somehow enables me to get through it gently and compassionately and without losing my mind, I feel like the gospel is beginning to take root in all aspects of my life. Because there is no way I could do that kind of thing without Him.

Read this other post and maybe it will say better what I’m not really explaining so well.