The Price is Right

        I remember watching the show "The Price Is Right" with Bob Barker as the host. As a teenager, I was deeply disturbed that all these women would run up on stage and kiss Mr. Barker when they had won the chance to play the next game. I never believed the price would ever be right for me to want to do that. I saw a value in my kisses, no matter how innocent it was. I wish I could always be mindful of the value of my words.
        Recently, I was reminded of that. A Bible study I attend on Tuesday mornings (while my school aged girls get to take an art class) talked extensively on that topic. If I had to give my day a theme, it would've been "overflowing pee".  I'm getting pretty used to the never-ending pile of baby clothes, burp, rags and soiled wash clothes (which is what I use each diaper change to deflect the fountain of pee my 3 week old son produces). However,  I wasn't really expecting him to overflow his diaper during Bible study, leaving a large wet spot on my jeans. After taking him to the bathroom to change his clothes (wish I'd have had a fresh change too), he proceeded to pee all over his blanket that I used to cover the changing table. How does that work? How can there possibly be enough urine in his tiny bladder to overflow a diaper, and them two minutes later douse a changing table?? I determined that I would still enjoy my remaining time at Bible study and I did.
        After Bible study, my 8 year old informed me that we'd have to go to Walmart immediately because there was only half a bowl of cat food left...despite her telling me Saturday that we had half a bag left of a 14lb bag. Her approximation must have been off because our two cats took three weeks to eat the other "half". The day was especially biting cold, and I didn't relish having my wet jeans freeze against my thigh. At least, we were already out of the house. I hadn't planned snacks for being gone so long, and it was a little grating to hear declarations of hunger the whole trip...a bag of almonds and pumpkin seeds in my diaper bag don't look very appealing next to the suckers, Twizzlers, and pez at the check-out line. I did tell my 8 year old daughter at the end of the trip that I was thankful that she took such good care to fill the cats' food bowl that she was aware they needed food today instead of neglecting them. She smiled a little at that.
        We'd made it through all of this without the baby waking up, but that was all about to change. My four year old declared that she needed to pee as we pulled away from Walmart in a voice of panic. I told her that I'd be stopping to donate some formula at a local church, and she could come in with me to use the potty. Then my two year old chimed in that she too had to go potty although I'm convinced she more curious about the different bathroom than really needing to go. At that point, my newborn began wailing. There was no warm up fussing. It was a full-fledged scream-so-hard-you-cannot-breathe cry, and I could quickly see the situation derailing. I switched gears and told the four year old she'd have to use the emergency potty we stow under the back seat in our minivan. I also told the two year old she could just use her diapers if she needed to. (I know that is so anti-potty training/good parenting, but I can't listen to a baby cry). We were only 10 minutes from home and real food for lunch (and dry jeans). I could feel my anger rising when I got back into the van from dropping off  the formula only to find my four year old talking to our screaming infant instead of sitting on the potty. I decided to try out my Bible study lesson and ask for God's peace. I didn't have an overwhelming infusion at that moment,  but it did feel good to yell to someone who wouldn't be hurt by my volume or what I was saying. Remember my theme for the day? Well, my four year old had to pee so badly that she peed over the front edge of the potty onto the carpet. As my 8 year old complained about the smell in the van, I was quick to quip that at least she didn't have to clean it up. As I finally pulled away from the church, the baby stopped crying; and I realized how pointless my anger over all this was. It was just making the situation worse for all of us. I cried out again to God to ask for His help, and I began to tell the girls about the story of my wet jeans from the baby. I started recounting other stories from when my 10 and 8 year old had overflowed potties or had emergencies, and suddenly the mood lightened. There were smiles on my older daughters faces because they'd forgotten these tales as well as smiles from my little ones who weren't around to know these stories. My anger completely vanished, and I did feel at peace. The value of those words were priceless, and at that moment I could feel every one soothing our souls.
        Our main passage from Bible study was 2 Corinthians 4. Verses 8-9 say, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted,  but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. " Thank God that I might have been peed on, hungry, and at my wits end, but He heard my cry and answered me. If I could kiss Him right now, I would. Since I can't, I will instead kiss the five children He has given us instead.