Gas Pump Art and Six Missionaries

This post was written in my van on the road to Mazatlan.

The trip has gone better than anticipated as long as we don’t travel during the babies’ fussy time between 7 and 9 o’clock at night. In a small town before we stopped for the night, we came across this interesting architectural detail at a gas station…


This may appear to be old gas pumps aligned in a formation, but if you look closely, you will see that they were fashioned into water fountains! Who would have thought of such a thing? Here’s a close-up…


These pumps were surrounded by a beautiful flower garden…


…and seeing this display of creativity inspired me! As they say, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”!

Later that evening, I snapped this shot in our hotel room…


Something that may surprise you because of the fact that I have been a housewife for almost twenty years and that I love laundry so much (see THIS post) is that I’m not a top-notch ironer. I don’t think I’ve ever actually ironed all of the boys’ shirts at one time (as shown in the photo). Usually, the two boys who are twelve or older have to iron their own shirts, the shirts that belong to the two middle boys usually get taken out of the dryer before they get too wrinkled and get hung up for Sunday, and as far as the twins’ shirts go, I forgo the ironing because I figure they are so cute that no one will notice if there are wrinkles in their clothes. However, last Sunday, after everyone was ready to go to church, John decided that he would iron the twins’ shirts, so I guess that was a subtle message that I need to do the same from now on.

But I digress. Because the shirts had been stuffed by little boys into varying suitcases, and the two oldest boys who would normally iron their own shirts had volunteered to care for the twins, I was left with the job. (As a side note, the only good advice I ever got about ironing was on a TV show. The suggestion was to iron all the small parts of the shirt first, like the sleeves, collar and the difficult double layer on the upper back, before ironing the two front sides and the back. This has definitely improved my ironing skills and I hope it helps you if you are a struggling ironer like myself.)

Anyway, as I stood and looked at all six freshly ironed shirts, I was awed that God had given me the chance to raise six of His sons. I thought of the fact that I am raising six missionaries in training, my own little MTC if you will, and I felt so grateful that Heavenly Father has given me this opportunity and that he has faith in me, that I can do this. As long as I stay worthy to have His Spirit to be with me, I CAN do this. I’m so grateful that I live in a place where church, school and community are all interconnected and that my three oldest boys have a worthy father-figure and my three littlest boys have a worthy father to teach them in the paths of righteousness. I’m grateful for my three daughters as well, especially for my oldest, who has shown me what it means to experience the fruits of my labor as a mother.

So, those are the musings of a mother on a Sunday afternoon, in a van with my husband and eight of our kids, on a curvy mountainous road to Mazatlan.


Kid Quip of the Day:
If you're still with me, you get to read it. Lucky you...

My husband, after changing the two-year-old's diaper: Okay, Johnny, can you go throw this diaper in the trash can now?
Johnny: No thank you.