My Twenty Minute Ride Home

When I was growing up, I simply refused to show hormonal emotion. I even took pride in the fact I could watch Steele Magnolias and not shed a tear. This is no longer the case (and don't get me started on that darn movie...I bawl like a baby every time). This "release of emotion" all started back to when I first got married. The Cajun and I (like most people) had an interesting first few years of marriage. The man could not seem to learn how to read my mind, or the huge hints I would send out. Thus the tears....
Then things got worse after I birthed a 9lb human. Suddenly those stupid Hallmark commercials would just ruin me. And then I tried to potty train this ninja....and again....and the last time I tried, he got it. I'm not sure if you have ever tried to potty train a stubborn male being at a young age or not but its a type of hell on earth all on it's own. I can still hear myself yelling "JUST GO TO COLLEGE IN A DIAPER!!! I NO LONGER GIVE A FLYING FART IN SPACE IF YOU SUCCEED AT THIS OR NOT!". (Pretty isn't it?) And of course with each addition ninja and their potty training drama, this hormonal emotion is now no longer able to be held back in any capacity.
So now being a weak weeper, tonight as we drove home from my parent's house, while Penatonix Christmas CD blared (they begged me to put it in) and all ninjas were singing along at full volume, I looked into the rear view mirror and the tears began to fall. See The Cajun was following us home in his own vehicle, so in this one reflection, was everything I held so dear to me.
I began to cry a bit more remembering the years when we didn't have kids and sleep was a familiar thing, finances were decent and laundry didn't seem to breed overnight. Of course more tears came as I remembered the work of my newborn ninjas, their sweet breath against my neck, and loud cries of desperation that only subsided when I picked them up in my arms and told them it would be alright. None of which I'd trade for sleep, money or clean clothes. I cried for the moments I will never get back like tonight when their sweet, innocent faces hold all that is right in the world. For their teen years when I will no longer be the one they go to for the questions parading around in their minds. For their first heartbreaks, for the first time they truly question God because life threw them a curve ball no one saw coming, and for the fact that some times living is so difficult. I'm sure by now everyone in passing vehicles has debated whether or not to call some kind of hot line for the bawling woman in a tan mini van possibly holding children.
Life....it's so bitter sweet. And if we let it, it's sorrow, regrets and pain can leave us emotionally fatigued. It's ok to cry, it's okay to feel hurt, and pain. But at the end of my crazy moment, I decided to remember the things that brought joy to my life possibly with laughter that caused wet undergarments.
Like the time my oldest ninja, while on the changing table, skillfully shot poop all down the walls of the hallway in our house. When the two youngest one's say their nighttime prayers imitating a purposeful southern drawl. Or all the many times I've scared The Cajun and seen nothing but questioning and terror across the face of a 6 foot, brawny man. There is not a day that goes by when we as a family don't laugh either at ourselves or something else. And that is something I will always cherish.
Laughter....some times it is the best medicine. "A cheerful heart is good medicine" Proverbs 17:22