God in a Pretzel

I don't have a lot of pictures on the walls of my home...yet. We have been living here for almost two years now and still a lot of wall space is empty. And the thing is we have so many (too many) great photos to frame. So, it was this realization that gave me the energy to go shopping yesterday. I went shopping yesterday with Lily. After two minutes in the first frame store it suddenly became incredibly apparent why I do not go shopping (and why the house remains photo-less). Lily was bucking in her stroller like a little wild stallion, crying and yelling, and trying to grab at everything. My first thought was why the hell did we decide to wean her from her pacifier during the daytime and then my second thought was the secret stash of suckers in the diaper bag. (Mind you, I had already exhausted the fruit snacks on the five minute drive from home.) Well, that little toddler grabbed the sucker and basically chucked it down the aisle, started crying in earnest, and I knew then what every mother who has experienced something like this knows deep in her heart: 1) I am screwed and 2) If I stay here any longer I am going to start crying along with my daughter. Holding back the tears, I left.

So I collect myself in the car, turn on some obnoxious children's music for Lily, and muster up the courage to go to yet another store. This time I decide to carry her instead of attempting the stroller...and off we go. Naturally, this store doesn't have anything I am looking for and the prices are all hidden and stuff is piled everywhere and I feel the panic rising inside. Suddenly, a warm feeling comes over me and I wonder if God has decided to warm the cockles of my heart while I am shopping. Ah, no. Lily's diaper leaked out and that would be urine warming me through my pee-soaked shirt. Lovely.

I courageously/insanely decide to make one more stop before heading home. By this time, my nerves are shot, I'm starting to get a headache and I need a serious caffeine fix. I dash into World Market to make an exchange, plop Lily into the cart and fly down the aisle trying to find my replacement teacup. Naturally, Lily starts crying and bucking, it's official now, we are so d-o-n-e. I hear a little voice off to the side ask, "Why is that baby crying, Mommy?" and suddenly there is another cart beside me. A kind looking woman stops and smiles and then asks me if my daughter would like a pretzel. Through the chaos I must have managed somehow to communicate the word "yes." She opens up the brand new tub they are buying and hands Lily a big, salty, chewy pretzel. And suddenly...peace. For the first time that morning Lily is quiet and content and I am able to actually look around at this wonderful store and make my exchange without feeling totally out of control and crazy. The woman smiles warmly at me and comments how she has three more at home, including a set of twins. All I could manage to say to her was this: bless you. And, oh, how I meant it.

Those of us who have had moments like these during the craziest times know what this simple act feels like. It feels like grace. The day didn't get all that much better and I felt like a basket case for the rest of the afternoon, but in that small moment I felt calm and cared for. And, so then, there it was: God in a pretzel.