Abundance....

Today I took NBO to Sam's Club.

I hate taking them to Sam's Club. Three kids and a cart that's made for two kids leads to fighting and/or whining the whole time. Yes, I agree that this should be a non issue since at least one of my children is too old to be in a cart at all. Tell that to her.

Then there's the issue of where I'm actually supposed to put the items I came for--most of which are in large boxes--since there are two children in the cart. So, inevitably, I end up piling boxes on top of boxes, and around children, and under the cart, and OK, fine, on top of children, and then putting a few smaller items precariously on top of the boxes. By the time we leave, it's hard to tell there are kids in there at all. Until I hit a speed bump in the parking lot and everything falls off the cart.

Then you get a glimpse of the kids.

I also have a new reason to hate going to Sam's club. B now uses the potty. Yes, it's true. This is a good thing, right? Sure it is. Except that now of course, he has to go to the potty often, which at Sam's Club means I have to take him and O out of the cart, which means I first have to remove the boxes that are surrounding them, and then do it all in reverse when we come back. In addition, this new potty experience leads to conversations I never imagined myself having, like:

"No, you can't take your bagel in the bathroom".
"Bagel in bathroom!"
"No bagel in the bathroom".
"Yes bagel in bathroom!"
"Bagels are not allowed in the bathroom!"
"BAGEL IN BATHROOM!"

Just in case you're wondering,  he didn't bring the bagel into the bathroom.

I also find myself saying things I never expected to say, like:

Please don't lick the shopping cart, Get the cheese stick out of your nose, Stop spitting yogurt at your brother, and Please don't run with the salami.

Having said all of that, I also love going to Sam's Club.

 I love that I can buy huge boxes of diapers. And wipes. And paper towels. And juice boxes. I love that, if I wanted to, I could feed my kids lunch by walking around to the sample stands. Not that I would ever admit to it actually do that, of course. Without a doubt, all of this is excess, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't cause me to have some middle class American guilt. But behind the excess--the reason for the excess, and the reason I love theses trips--is abundance.

Three kids who need to eat. And drink. And, of course, poop. In fact, I think they do a lot more of that than eating and drinking, but I digress. I know that I'm incredibly lucky to be able to walk into a store and buy everything we need. I may wonder exactly how that credit card will get paid off, but I know that it will get paid off. I don't wonder how my kids will eat this week, or whether they will have clothes to wear to school, and thankfully, I never had to seriously consider using cloth diapers because they might be a cheaper alternative (and trust me, while I appreciate the valid concerns about our environment, that is the only reason I ever would have considered using them).

Maybe I have a love-hate relationship with places like Sam's club because taking the kids there is just like my life in general, only on a smaller scale.

It's exhausting.
And difficult.
And chaotic.
And messy.
And frustrating.
And exhausting.

And yet, as O is throwing apples on the floor and an elderly lady passes us and smiles--actually smiles--I am reminded once again that in the midst of all of this, there is simply abundance. 

I sometimes wonder if my kids have any concept of  this. I suspect they probably don't.

They don't know the concept of abundance because, fortunately, they have never known deprivation.
They don't how lucky they are to have a refrigerator full of (mostly) healthy food, because they have never known otherwise. There's nothing special to them about having  a father who works so hard and a mother who is able to be with them all day because, in their world, that's just the way it's always been.

At this point in their lives, they don't have any idea what abundance even means.

But me?

I have a pretty good idea of what it means, because behind every exhausting, difficult, chaotic, messy, frustrating day of motherhood, there is an abundance of just about everything good.

Sometimes, you just have to move the diaper boxes to see it.