The Question

Just a few minutes ago Atrain asked me a question that I have been waiting for him to ask me for a few years. We finished our nightly routine: read our scriptures, said our prayers, read a book and made small talk about the day. And then, I kissed him and asked--as I do every night--if he will hand me his cochlears. He looked at me with a small, thoughtful smile and asked,

"Mom, why do I have cochlears?"

My heart filled with love and confidence. I could feel God helping me through the conversation I have been thinking about ever since I held my 5 week old baby with bright red, glowing hearing aids on.

"Some boys and girls have cochlears, and some don't," I said. "Just like some boys and girls have glasses and some don't--some babies need cochlears and some need glasses."

"What do you think about that?" I asked.

"When I take off my cochlear," he said as he proceeded to remove the coil from his head, "I can't hear on that side...watch...hear?"

"Yep." I said. "And did you know that when you were a baby and you didn't have cochlears to hear, God told me that you are so special...and that you would be blessed to hear so well with cochlears."

My heart burned within me and I could feel my eyes start to well up with tears as God reminded me, again, how special the boy staring at me really is. Atrain was nodding his head as he listened intently to every word.

"God loves you so much, Atrain. Ever since you were little, God has told me how much he loves you and how good and special you are." I said.

Atrain grinned kindly and he said, "And when you grow little, you can have cochlears too."

"Maybe," I responded, "I would love to have cochlears, but I will never get to grow little like you...just bigger."

"Then when you are big, you can have cochlears too" he added, and then continued to let me into his world. "And look, when both cochlears are off, it's really hard to hear," he said as he took both off. I mouthed, "wow" at him, and he quickly put them back on with a smile.

"How does that feel?" I asked, honestly curious.

He thought for a moment, and then said, "Kinda scary."

My stomach got a little heavy when those words came so clearly out of his mouth, but I could feel the Spirit move our conversation along. "But momma and daddy are always here, and you are so brave, Atrain. You are the bravest, strongest boy that I know," I said.

"Look!" he said as he flexed his muscles and made a fierce, fighting face. "I am strong."

"I know. I'm so proud of you. And God knows that you are so strong. You make me strong" I said and let a few tears go. "That's a happy tear."

Atrain smiled at me and gave me the biggest hug. I am so proud of that little boy. And tonight during our conversation I was reminded just how much God is aware of him and aware of my mothering needs. I was impressed by how simple, but profound our conversation was. I hope I can raise Atrain to understand what Christ meant when he commanded us to "love thy neighbor as thyself"--a commandment that I am constantly working on. There are all kinds of people in this world, and we need to work to understand and rejoice in our differences and develop empathy for each other's challenges. Atrain doesn't fully understand the challenges ahead of him, just as I can't fully grasp the challenges ahead of me. But, I know that God does. He can help us "turn the other cheek." He can teach us true charity. And, he can prepare us for whatever is to come.

Mechanical Mommy

The husband and I only saw each other for a total of about 40 minutes today—most of which I spent stressing over our schedules. Stupid. Between meetings, church, school, work and play we haven’t had a decent conversation in at least three days. I feel robotic, like my heart is a cold, calculating clock, ticking its way through the day…counting down to May 7^th, the day the husband leaves for his away rotation in Houston.

But there were many moments today when the boys brought me out of my mechanical mindset. After trying again—unsuccessfully—to get Jdog down for a good afternoon nap I took them both outside to the playground. Atrain and I had our swords strung securely through the belt loops of our jeans. We slashed them through the warm, spring air until we met up with the swing set. I decided to see whether or not Jdog would enjoy a little turn on the baby swing, so I stuffed his soft blankets around his chubby body until he was secure and cozy in the baby seat. Then, I gave him a little push. A large, toothless smile grew across his face and was followed by a sweet squeaky giggle. Atrain gave him a little shove and Jdog giggled again. “He likes it!” Atrain said with giddy surprise in his voice. You see, swinging has never been Atrain’s strong suit. I’m not sure if it has something to do with his hearing loss and malformed vestibular system, but he has always been easily unsettled on the swing set—unless he’s pushing himself on his belly, “Peter-Pan” style. For some reason he enjoys that. But, if you swing him while he’s sitting upright, he’ll hold his breath and beg for you to stop him.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Atrain asked to be placed in the baby swing adjacent to Jdog’s. “Go slow,” he said bravely as I set him inside and gave him a little push. He held tightly to the seat, but soon began to smile as I swung him in synch with his brother and sang the “Swinging high and swinging low” and “Whenever I hear the song of a bird,” songs my grandma always sang to me on her big tree swing. They both listened intently, smiling at me and at each other. Then we played a few silly swing games like “tickle the tiny toes,” “see the silly mommy lie under our swings,” and “kick the mommy so we can laugh like Hyenas as she exaggerates a fall.” Too bad bodies need food. If it weren’t for dinner we could have stayed out there until the sun set.

I hope to spend a lot of time on the swing set this summer. I need more simple reminders that life shouldn’t be overshadowed by the stress of messy schedules. I need more time singing swinging songs to my boys. There is a sweet spirit that whispers peace to my heart and reminds me that, “for all His creations of which I’m a part, yes I know Heavenly Father loves me.” I hope that in spite of the stress that may make my mind a little mechanical every now and then, my boys know that too.