Of Few Words

At 15 months old, our sweet (b) still doesn’t use a ton of words that can be clearly understood, but boy does he ever know how to communicate. We are discovering he has a little ornery streak which is often displayed by cutting his eyes around to see if anyone is watching what he is up to, or trying to distract our attention when he is caught doing something he shouldn’t. He likes to point or take you by the hand and lead you to where he wants to go or to what thing he wants. He has no problem swatting something out of your hand or off his highchair tray when he doesn’t want it, and oh the laughter… it is completely infections and consuming when he is trying to be the entertainer or keep up with his big brother. 

 One night this week he woke up crying in the middle of the night. It is fairly unlike him, so I checked for his paci, it was there in the bed with him. I tried to offer a drink- that was swatted away. I tried changing his diaper, he still whimpered. The noise and nightlights woke (A) who came in to check on us. (b) launched himself out of my arms and towards his daddy with a HUGE smile. He then looked directly at me, waved, and said two words he does speak clearly “bye-bye Mama!” Without a lot of words, the communication was pretty clear- the daddy’s boy had found what he wanted, and I was given a free pass to go back to bed (no arguments here!) 

 As I have been watching the political climate of the country, the things said on social media, even situations I have found myself in lately, I think more often that I might need to take some lessons in communication from my toddler. Sometimes, my words need to be few. I can communicate just as much with my actions towards others, or the things I choose NOT to say as I can with the words I do choose to say. And I will admit, sometimes that is a hard pill for me to swallow. All my life, I have never been accused of being short on words. But sometimes, the words simply do not need to be said. If they aren’t going to accomplish anything, they don’t need to be said. If they are falling on deaf ears, they don’t need to be shouted louder. If they may not be understood, don’t risk the misunderstanding.

 I am realizing it is far more powerful at times, to swallow the words, and do something instead. Though I was frustrated with the pencil drama in that 3rd grader’s desk, it was more powerful to simply walk to my supply closet and create a different solution instead of voicing my frustration with his disorganization and the distraction it was causing him. The 4th grader didn’t need to get any farther behind on his math, so instead of reminding him that I was tripping over his belongings for the 6th time of the day, I simply picked them up myself and organized them out of the way (though I wanted to shout to the world how much I need COVID restrictions to go away so we can have student lockers back). As my stress level and frustration levels have been higher than normal, I often find myself wanting to speak more than normal. But I am being reminded that there is no need to join the “noise”, communicate with actions, kind gestures, and holding on to those words instead. 

  “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” James 1:19