Tears and Bathrooms

Last week I was having my usual adventure fighting my thoughts (I'm doing better with this -- really -- in both combating negativity and staying joyful in the first place). But last Wednesday was one of those days when I felt myself getting slogged down, even when I was trying...even when I was relying on God...even when I was doing all that I could do. I was attempting to do some shopping at Kohl's while I had a babysitter and I just couldn't find anything, so I stopped in the bathrooom before I left.

While I was in the stall, I heard a mom and a little boy come in and start chatting together. The conversation reminded me so much of times I used to have with Anna when she was little. The girl was such a riot and was always saying things that cracked me up. I forgot everything these two were saying, but I remember at one point the little guy chirped up something like, "You buy me things just because you wuv me, right mamma?" and I could hear in her response that she was smiling. He kept talking as they walked out and I could hear him walking down the hall gabbing.

Next thing I knew my eyes were welling with tears. I don't know what it is with me when it comes to tears and bathrooms. If I were to admit how many times I've cried in public bathrooms...well, it wouldn't be pretty. I'm better than I used to be, and let's just say I have a system down that involves waiting, deep breaths, and wiping the red from around my eyes with wet paper towels.

I'm not sure why I was crying, but I know a couple of the thoughts that were rolling around up there. Will I ever get to talk like that with Ethan? was one, but that really wasn't the big one. I guess the looming thought was If only. If only I'd known I might not have another opportunity for such adorable conversations with my child, after Anna. If only I'd stopped and cherished them even more than I had attempted to cherish them.

As a side note: Ethan is starting to talk. I used to worry if he'd ever talk. I know that we are beyond that. He's talking! He's working on putting words together! It's at his pace, and sometimes his style is rather quirky, but he is making progress. Thank God! But of course my tendency is to always want more.

I walked out into Kohl's a few minutes later and already I could feel whatever I'd been feeling start to subside. First of all, I saw the kid and he was probably 3 or even 4. There I was, comparing Ethan to a preschooler. And as for being like Anna, well...Anna was Anna. Ethan was Ethan. Wouldn't it be just fine to enjoy him and the wonderful things about him?

That evening after dinner Ethan started asking for the nativity set again. To explain: we got the cheesiest nativity set for Christmas from Dan's great aunt (who loves Good Will bargains!). It lights up and plays music, the whole nine yards. Ethan loved the thing and I had just called it "Jesus" because nativity set seemed to be a mouthful. Every once in awhile Ethan thinks about our Christmas stuff (like the tree) and starts looking for it. So Ethan went over to where the manger had been, put his hands out on either side, questioning, and said in his Ethan way, "Where's Jesus?"

"Jesus is in the basement," I said, immediately realizing how crazy the words sounded, and Ethan ran over to the basement door and waved. "Bye Jesus!"

I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe and the tears were running out of my eyes. Jesus. In the basement. And even as I laughed I was able to relish how incredibly thankful I was.

My little boy, who I feared would never talk, was asking questions and making connections. No, he wasn't the boy in Kohl's or his precocious big sister. But he was making me laugh. He is bringing me joy.