They say that laughter is the best medicine. That laughter actually makes a person healthier. I haven't really had a good laugh in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I laugh, I find things funny, particularly, hubby and some of the things the kids do. But a good, strong, tears rolling down my face laugh, not so much.
Hubby says that I am too serious. My siblings like to say I am too. Which, probably means I am. I just don't take responsibility lightly. When I was teaching, I wish I could say I was the funny teacher...cause who doesn't like a teacher who is funny? My classes were fun, the kids generally liked me (I think), and learning happened all the time. However, I was always professional and a little cynical. Seasoned teachers told me I acted like a veteran. The things I said, the way I held myself screamed old timer. Yep, a nice way of saying I was serious, that I didn't have that new teacher glow. It was not meant as an insult, as seasoned teachers kinda felt threatened by the newer, younger teachers. New teachers have energy, they have pizazz, and many have that young/good looking thing that even if they are terrible at the job, the kids still love them. One student once told me that I hung out with the "popular teachers." I think she meant the younger ones in their twenties opposed to those in their 40s-60s (cause at the school I taught we didn't have many in between...most were within 10 years of retirement). But, I could hang with the older crowd and fit right in. The other new teacher had problems being able to relate to their mentors.
As a stay at home mom, I take my job very seriously. What I do is important, I have to convince myself of this daily or I would just get depressed. But I am not the "cool" Mom. I never will be. My parents were the cool parents. My Mom used to pile all the kids in the neighborhood in their station wagon and just drive around turning right or left when the kids told her to. My dad would bring home the company truck, pile the kids in the back and take everyone out to ice cream. These things would never happen in my home. First, hubby isn't too keen on kids other than our own. Second, all that gas wasted, and I would not feel comfortable driving all the kids around in the neighborhood. The responsibility scares me. Yep, I am too serious.
Last night Cookie asked me to come play in her room with her. So I obliged, since really how long is she really going to want to play with me anyway? One day she's going to be slamming that bedroom door asking me to please leave her alone. She told me she wanted to give me a show and to get in the closet (lucky girl has a walk in). And then she sang and danced and intermittently between the singing and dancing she started burping and farting. I was laughing so hard tears started streaming down my face. My sides hurt. And Cookie kept laughing because I was laughing. Then she' ask me to stop so the show could go on...but she'd start to giggle, then she'd burp and then I'd start laughing again. It felt really really good. I love my Cookie and I was reminded that sometimes I just need to let go, stop worrying about the laundry or the kitchen that has yet to be cleaned and enjoy my kids. Because they are really really funny.