The Gift You Are

I’m sitting on the floor of my bathroom, propped up against the tub, waiting for Bug to decide he is done repeating the word “bubble” and also done with his bath. I’ve already washed him, and I suppose I could rush him. But I don’t like to. I like him to enjoy his bath. And he does.

What I don’t enjoy is sitting here bored while he splashes and talks and plays with his boat and his duck. I am here to make sure he doesn’t drown, but I’m not really present. To be honest, I’m a little annoyed that he needed a bath just when I had so many things to do tonight. To be even more frank, he’s been annoying me all day.

He’s at a stage in his linguistic development where he repeats things, a lot. He is learning how to form words, like bubbles, more, and hot. He is feeling his tongue, lips, and teeth work together to make words. He watches for our reactions when he says words and he us learning multiple meanings for words. He is working so hard, and he’s driving us crazy with his endless chatter.

So I’m lounging here on the floor, scrolling through my WordPress Reader feed for the tag “devotional” and I see something titled “The Gift You’ve Been Given” and I click it. It’s a reblog from somewhere else and it tells a story that’s valuable but not completely relevant right this minute. But it makes me think of the gifts I’ve been given.

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