Yes, I just started this post by saying poop. Because I’m a (mostly) #boymom. And for some reason the mere sound of this word elicits undercover giggles and hearty chuckles from everyone in the room. Even me. And I’m supposed to be the sensible one in the group.
And I was. Really. I used to be the person that needed each knick-knack (though few) to be in the exact right spot. Not an inch off, exactly where I had them placed before someone so offensively knocked them an inch away. I used to be the person that didn’t allow poop jokes, or even the mention of poop. I was the mom that frowned and cringed when my children (and husband) made inappropriate sounds at the dinner table. I was the proper mom.
But now, now, I am the one being reminded that we shouldn’t be saying “poop” at the dinner table. Now my children remind me that we can’t make certain jokes. Now I’m the mom who laughs with her children.
Believe me, I still love rules and order, but I have also learned to smile, to laugh, and to be the teller of the “poop jokes.” Because I have learned that laughter is vitally important. It may not be the lifeblood of the family, but it is invaluable. Laughter is the fighter of the family. I know, that sounds counter-intuitive. Laughter as the warrior? But laughter is powerful, friends. Laughter has the power to break down walls, to unite hearts, and to carry joy.