Laughing Till It Hurts

I realized this morning just how many things over the years have been so serious, so... depressing.  One of those moments where I caught a glimpse of the many things I've been through that have just been plain old tough.  Certainly not fair.  Just as this very sobering thought was beginning to really gel, I was caught off guard with one memory after the other of some pretty funny stuff. For every painful experience, it seems I can match it with laughter.  

I'm not talking about your regular laughs, either.  It's those times where you catch yourself laughing so much it hurts, while trying to catch your breath. Finally you end up muttering something that sounds like "whoo" as the laugh dies down, only to bubble up again a second later.  

Most of these times are of the you-had-to-be-there variety, but I do have an all-time favorite that translates fairly well.  Especially if you are a parent of more than one child.

Sitting across the picnic table from my friend Dianne, at "play group" (which, by the way, was so much more about us mothers needing to have other grown-ups to hang out with than providing enrichment for the kids) while she feeds her youngest child a bottle.  Her daughters are 6 months old, 2-year-old twins, and the oldest, 3½.  We are talking about the changes a mom goes through from first-time mother to the follow-up kids.  (Nothing against the follow-ups, it's just that the transformation from being a first-time parent to parent of more than one is palpable.)  Unaware that as she goes on in vibrant detail about how carefully she would go to a quiet place to nurse her newborn eldest, sure to coo lovingly, making eye contact at all times of course, and how WOW that's all changed now, the bottle has slipped from the baby's mouth and formula is dripping down onto the little cherub's face as she tries catching the drips with her tongue.  We other moms are all laughing so heartily as Dianne shares her story, tears of laughter streaming, that no one can make words and tell her what's up.  Of course when she realizes what has happened, we are all vaulted into further fits of "I can't breathe!" 

This morning I am thinking of so many times I've eeked out "I can't breathe!" - many times on the phone with Kerri and something just hits us both as hysterically funny, and as many times with my husband Paul when we are home in the evening watching sports and just being what we call "goobers".  

Yes, the painful times are still there, but I am forever grateful for so much laughter along the way.