Little Lady Words: The Second Asterisk

I want to reiterate that Husband and I have made a conscious decision to take Little Lady seriously and receive any emotion or problem she expresses. We are not always successful, but our hope is that we can instill in her now a sense of safety and acceptance and trust so that she can depend upon that when she’s older and life’s troubles for her are more serious than finding her baby neigh.

Right here, I must recommend you go back and read Little Lady Words and Little Lady Words: The First Asterisk (if I can recommend my own writing).

Being on this journey of finding words with Little Lady, Husband and I are learning so much about communication with each other, with others, and with God. We are learning that it’s okay to have circumstances larger than our vocabulary. We are learning that we can accept the emotion and the spirit of a message even if the words lack. We are learning that everyone needs to be received with safety and acceptance, whatever word they share.

And I am learning – once again – that I need God to help me understand. In fact, without Him, I am prone to misunderstanding. I’ll give you a real-life example that packed a wallop for me.

Little Lady and I had a rare momma-daughter outing recently. As we drove down our dirt road, I noticed a plump brown bunny in our neighbor’s yard. I slowed to a stop and rolled down the window for Little Lady and urged her to look. “What do you see?” I asked her. “Do you see any babies?” “Baby haha,” (a bird) she said first. Then “Baby buzzzzz,” (a bee). But the bunny sat there, nose barely twitching as it munched something green, and Little Lady had never seen a real bunny before, so I wasn’t sure she even noticed it. I said, “Look at that one with the long ears and the fuzzy tail! Is that a baby hop hop?” She squealed as every little girl ought to squeal when something new and exciting happens, and she exclaimed, “Baby hop-hop! Baby yum-yum!”

I.

Was.

Mortified.

Baby hop-hop, baby yum-yum? Bunny yum-yum?

Did my precious, innocent Little Lady just tell me she wanted to eat the bunny?

She is a Yooper – born to the Great Upper Peninsula of Michigan; and she is from a hunting family – on Husband’s side and my own; but I don’t think anyone has taught her anything yet that would convey to her that baby hop-hops are food. Maybe Uncle Jesse – but I really don’t think so.

I mean… we haven’t told her they aren’t food, either, but… Baby hop-hop, baby yum-yum? Really? My brain just couldn’t process it.

But we’re accepting what she speaks to us, remember? We’re actively trying to receive any emotion or experience she shares, even if it doesn’t make perfect sense to us. So I tucked my surprise away and said, “Yes! Baby hop-hop, baby yum-yum! Isn’t he cute?” And she said, “Baby hop-hop, baby yum-yum, baby aah!” (“Aah” is her word for heart or love. So now she loves to eat bunnies.) She then broke into an excited cry of “Hi baby hop-hop,” which startled the bunny. He scurried away.

Run, bunny; run.

When Little Lady and I arrived home from our date, I shared the story with Husband, who laughed and said, “I probably should have told you – I started asking her ‘yum-yum?’ when I think she wants to eat. She probably just meant to tell you the bunny was eating.”

I’m not too proud to admit I laughed at how easily I misunderstood what Little Lady said to me that day.

God doesn’t misunderstand us. Our lack of vocabulary doesn’t confound Him. Our words are limitations in many regards, and even when we think we have effectively stated what we know to be true, we often find misunderstandings easily. We just seem to have a knack for it, as relational, communicative beings. Perhaps life would be somewhat easier if we could always understand one another.

And then, perhaps such a life would be dull.

It is, after all, in the misunderstandings that we learn the true value of all we say and all we leave unsaid. The words we omit are often just as important as the words we choose. It’s like the sculpting of an elephant, right?

The stone we chip away (all that is not the elephant) is just as important as the stone we leave on display.

From my heart to yours,