The Family That Laughs Together… Laughs Together.

Once a year, my husband’s college best friend flies to Colorado from Minneapolis and they chill in the mountains for a few days together. This isn't a rustic outing full of hiking or fly-fishing, but more like a beer, movie and music festival in a cabin on a mountainside. I call it his bro-mantic getaway. He is responsible to no one but himself. Last weekend...it happened.

Matthew and I truly parent as partners, dividing the labor that is parenthood equally. So when he leaves town, his absence is plainly noticed by both me and the kids. Suddenly, I am responsible for driving everyone everywhere (this year Audrey helped me out big time) as well as still getting work done. Most noticeable however, is that we all laugh less in Matthew’s vacancy. His constant quips create much of the snickering that pervades our home, and we love to laugh. The first day or two he is gone we run off the reserves of jokes told within the moments before he left, but by day three things start feeling a little…serious and somber. I feel pressured to tell jokes and make any of our protégés smile, but realize Matthew possesses a sense of humor more suited to our children - a gift.

When Matthew returned home this time, a tangible sense of lightheartedness accompanied him...an almost audible sigh which has me thinking about laughter, and its power within families. A good chuckle together enhances our connection. We have so many inside jokes and developing these brought us together in the beginning. Our kids still titter remembering the time Matthew was pumping gas and suddenly jumped onto the roof of the mini-van and leaned over the edge of the window - peering at us all with a quizzical expression. Giggling broke out from both shock and embarrassment.

Life is too short to skip laughter. As parents, especially of kiddos who have experienced trauma, it is easy to be very serious about everything. I am reminded of the quote by the Indigo Girls, “The only thing you've ever done for me is to help me take my life less seriously. It’s only life after all.”

While teaching groups of new foster parents at Hope & Home, I ask them to remember the fun, carefree moments they experienced during adolescence. We can either join in the fun of that time with our teens, or stand outside of it critically. If you have never cruised the highway on a summer night with the windows down playing Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” at a high volume while waving glow sticks, I highly recommend it. It's very good for the soul.