laughing

I love my kids. I love playing with my kids and I love laughing with my kids. We laugh a lot. Both boys are so crazy and spunky and have the wildest personalities. When Dax is crazy, Wyatt is crazy. When Dax is being silly, Wyatt is being silly. It’s kinda like getting two for the price of one. They are a package deal. Wyatt wants to do everything his brother is doing. They make me laugh every day.

Lately it seems that Dax will do anything and everything to make us laugh. Which doesn’t take much actually. He doesn’t have to try very hard to get me laughing, he’s really actually pretty funny. I’ve already had visions of him in school being the kid who falls off his chair to get a laugh or the one making silly faces at the other kids across the room. I thought I was ready for those school years, but some days I know we are no where close. He hasn’t really grasped the concept that there is a time and a place for everything and while falling off a chair might be funny, it’s also a distraction. He’s learning these little lessons, so I think we’ll get there.

But, in the meantime, he cracks me up and I let him be who he is because it makes us all laugh. And laughing is just fun.

Yesterday Wyatt was napping and Dax was playing. I remember when I was younger my mom would sometimes come lay down where my sisters and I were playing and close her eyes and we would think to leave quietly, but she would stop us and say she loved to listen to us play and so we would stay. Yesterday, I did the same exact thing. Dax was playing; his imagination was running wild, so I closed my eyes and listened. It was soothing and heart-warming and comforting and peaceful. I never really understand what my mom was “listening” to when she would do this, but I totally get it know. You just listen to your little boy (or girl) be a little boy, and it’s touching. I can’t really think of another word to describe it. It kinda tugs at your heart, at least it did mine. Maybe because I finally slowed down long enough to enjoy him and soak up every bit of the great little boy that he is.

Well, it’s also very relaxing and I think I must have dozed off. Next thing I know Dax was inches from my face resting his head on my pillow. He’d cuddled underneath the blanket next to me and continued to play quietly talking about a spaceship and hero and rescuing Hercules. I didn’t really follow his train of thought and all his mind was going through at a mile a minute, but I kept my eyes closed and kept listening. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. He was being so sweet and cute and my heart was so happy. I decided to open my eyes and tell him I loved him. His huge green-blue eyes were starring right at me. He looked right back at me and beat me to the punch. He says in the most sincere, heartfelt way I have ever heard this boy speak, “Mama, I love you.”

I melted. We say I love you a million times a day, but this was different. I was sure that I would remember this moment for a long, long time. It was just simple and sweet.

Then it abruptly stopped. Not a millisecond after Dax says he loves me, he takes his little skinny fingers, says something along the lines of “Dongggggggggggssssshhkkk” (with a little spit I might add) and flicked my nose.

And then I knew for certain I would remember that moment for a long, long time because we laughed our heads off. The most laugher I have done in a long time and Dax’s eyes just sparkled as he laughed his little face off because he was so proud of himself that he had me laughing.

For some reason the rest of the day was a breeze. I guess the little flick of the nose knocked some sense into me. It made me realize how much good a little laughing can do. How much silliness and ridiculousness is good for the soul. I’m happy, because right now I have two little boys who remind me of this every chance they get. Yup, lucky for me, I have two personal clowns that are all mine. And that’s pretty awesome.