My people, my little people, they wonder. I’m sure I’m often unaware of the thoughts that touch their inquisitive minds and sensitive souls, but I exert an effort to be vigilant in my listening, just in case an opportunity quietly arises to have a meaningful conversation about something real. It’s nice to not always be the one from whom the hard stuff originates, the predictable doomsday mother. No, I much prefer it when a thoughtful exchange falls in my lap though more often than not, it’s a wistful query that I must intercept before it floats by me.

A diaper coupon being used as a bookmark. My daughter asked if I was planning to actually use it. Well, yes, I said, when I need to buy diapers again. “When are you going to potty train, Amos?” she asked. I didn’t share that I annoy myself wondering the same thing nearly every day. Just last night, I had put him on the potty before his bath and you would have thought I was trying to flush him to China. Panic, absolute panic, not to mention confirmation of what I already knew, he is nowhere near ready. I told her I didn’t think it was time yet.

Blair: Maybe when he’s four. Me: I don’t know, but what if he never gets potty trained? Do you think that means God will love him any less? Blair: No, but people might make fun of him and what if I’m at “boring school” and can’t stop them? Me: Good point, let’s think of some other things we could help him learn that he may be ready to do. Blair: Eat with a spoon, read a book, carry his own backpack, fall asleep in my bed? Me: I think eating with a spoon is a great idea. Blair: Mommy, I don’t want to go to “boring school” anyways.

Me: Blair, I don’t want you to either.

A conversation of wondering, talking, pondering and relinquishing quite big dreams and worries about the future of my two youngest children. A boy and a girl, different in most every imaginable way, except the one that matters most concretely. Sibling love is the tie that binds them and that wondrous length of cord leaves me to marvel that their paths shall be quite lustrous and wondrous to follow. Potty training and boarding school, just tips of the beautiful iceberg that we call life.

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