Motherhood Rocks!

Somedays the only treasure at the bottom of the pail of motherhood is the gift of laughter.  Today, I’m not digging in the diaper pail; I’m knee-deep in a different kind of pail. (Don’t keep reading if you’re weak stomached!). A bright green mop pail, a well-used ice cream container, and an industrial strength car-washing bucket have found their way into our home thanks to a sudden storm of flu bugs.  The kids affectionately call these little-used containers the “puke buckets.” But I call them the “patience pails.” There’s nothing like a twenty-four-hour bout with the stomach flu to test a mom’s patience and perspective.

Thankfully, I’ve got an extra-measure of both today since I was the one who started this whole flu-fest. I camped out on the bathroom floor Sunday evening, then stumbled through Monday with a toddler audience cheering me on each time the toilet called my name. But by God’s mighty act of grace, I was pulled from the throw-up trenches just in time to pull my children out of the same hole. 

After an entire night of bucket duty with my six-year-old, I met my green-skinned firstborn in the bathroom this morning and went to the garage in search of yet another pail.  At 7 AM I was in the midst of switching the soiled sheets from the washing machine and swabbing Hannah’s head with a warm washcloth, when Luke stumbled into the room with a full bucket and a bloody nose.  It was at that moment that I realized I hadn’t seen my baby for a while.  “Where’s Maggie?” I asked no one in particular as I rinsed the car wash bucket in the laundry sink. 

As if on cue, my dear Miss Magdalene came toddling out of the craft room where hours before her sister had been putting the final touches on a 100th-day-of-kindergarten-project. Left overnight to dry, the neon green posterboard  featured rainbow letters proclaiming “Kindergarten Rocks!” Below the clever caption one hundered candy rocks glued proudly with blobs of white Elmer’s glue proved Hannah’s ability to count to one hundred .  However, no masterpiece is safe with a one-year-old on the prowl.

 One quick glimpse in Maggie’s direction confirmed my hunch:  there were not 100 rocks left on the poster anymore.  The rainbow colored drool dripping from my baby’s bulging cheeks gave away her secret.  With a chocolate smile, Maggie hugged my legs and grabbed the closest puke bucket. “Mine!” she declared as she toddled away with the smelly pail in hand.

Against my better judgement I decided to forgo the battle of the bucket and just let my territorial toddler have her way.. after all, she will soon probably need the pail to catch a few half-digested chocolate rocks. 
In celebration of pure survival today, I’m going to eat a few chocolate stones myself and be grateful that from the bottom of the bucket, there’s nowhere to climb but UP!

Today’s Treasure:  “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”
                                                            -Proverbs 17:22