Humor

Day 21:  Humor

“Having children is like living in a frat house - nobody sleeps, everything's broken, and there's a lot of throwing up.” -Ray Romano

I love Ray Romano – I saw him at the Comedy Cellar in NYC a long time ago, long before his successful T.V. show – and he was hilarious.   I especially love that quote by him – it’s life, summed up in one funny sentence.  I appreciate anyone that can poke fun at themselves.  Humor is life’s greatest defense.  Particularly in times of stress, a good laugh can bring despair to hope and give us the much needed push to keep going. 

Humor was the first thing that I loved about Billy.  He made me laugh in high school, and nearly every day since.  Even at the worst times, he can throw in a joke or a sarcastic comment to make an otherwise intolerable situation tolerable.  I need these moments of comic relief.  And while this is true in everyone’s life, living at Camp Chaos (as Billy affectionately calls our home), having a sense of humor is a necessity. 

I remember when Coleman was in Children’s for the Leukemia.  He was miserable from the chemo, and a high dose of daily steroids added to his rather unhappy disposition.  To boot, the steroids made sleep elusive, so we were left with a cranky, geared-up firecracker who was unable to be pleased.  The only comfort he found was going for walks in the stroller.  So we loaded him into it day and night, whenever we could, and walked him around the hospital, around the gardens, even around the block – whatever we could do to keep him content (happy would be far too optimistic – content was achievable).  Billy and I alternated every two or three days at the hospital, taking turns spending the nights with Coleman.  One night Billy was trying to console Coleman, and it was proving to be impossible.  He would walk and walk and walk, but as soon as he brought Coleman back to the room, he would start to cry.  So off he would go again, walking and walking.  That night he walked the entire neighborhood around Children’s, finally bringing Coleman back up to the room around 2 a.m.  He quietly parked the carriage in our room, walked back out and up to the Nurse’s station, and told them “He’s asleep finally.  I am going downstairs to get a bite to eat.  If he wakes up, shoot him and send him to the E.R.” and turned around and walked out.   We laughed about that comment for weeks.  And then, years later, when Emma was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, we asked the doctor if there was a cause.  He answered “It’s just bad luck.”  Billy replied, “Oh Good.  That’s our specialty.”

From illness to Autism, there are certainly plenty of reasons to be sad, plenty of reasons to want to knock on God’s door and just say “Seriously?”  But we try to take it all with a grain of salt, to laugh because the only other option is to cry.   Life can be ridiculous, so we choose to take the mature road be ridiculous right back. 

·         At the party the other night, all was great until my brother shut the bathroom light off.  And Coleman screeched “BATHROOM LIGHT!” and the very loud party suddenly became very quiet.  Everyone looked at Coleman, and then at my brother.  And then everyone verbally berated my brother for turning off the light. 

·         Coleman loves to watch people jump in the pool.  But it is imperative that everyone jumps together.  Remember if we ever ask this of you while you are here, please stick to the countdown, and jump at “go” and not a moment before or God help you, you will jump again.

·         Coleman loves a crowd, loves to see people laughing.  So if there is a lull in the din of noise at a party, Coleman will yell “Laugh everyone!”  Please obey and laugh.  Why tell jokes when you can just tell everyone to laugh instead?

·         Speaking of jokes, Coleman has one joke that is from an episode of the Backyardigans.  The joke asks “Why did the chicken cross the playground?” and the punchline is “To get to the other slide.”  He says it all in one breath, no pause, and then laughs hysterically at himself.  We prompt him to tell his joke to people when they come over.  He says it,  all in one breath, and then he waits for your response.   Please keel over laughing uncontrollably as we do.

·         Coleman likes to watch doors close.  So doors at the supermarket that feature the electric eye to open and close the door when you come and go are problematic for us.  We leave the store, and he turns to watch the door close.  Which it doesn’t because inevitably someone is coming out behind us.  And someone else is coming out behind them.  And so on and so on.  And next thing you know, I could have done my entire shopping order over again it has taken so long get past the damn door.  It is possible that I may have once put a carriage in front of the exit door to prevent it from opening automatically so I could get out of Supermarket hell.  I’m sorry if it was you that I blocked. 

·         As much as Coleman hates to sleep away from home, he also hates when the girls have friends sleep here.  If we prepare him ahead of time, he handles it well, but last-minute sleepovers, which so often occur, really irritate him.  So we may have asked your child to hide in a closet at bedtime for us.  “Where’s Pheobe?” he’ll ask when we go to say goodnight (which is absolutely unavoidable).  “She went home” I lie.  And pray that she doesn’t make a sound from the closet.  Don’t judge me. 

We need these tiny victories, these little jokes on life to make some days bareable.  Because not all things are laughing matters, and sometimes frustrating times are nothing but frustrating.  Like last night when we went up for bed and the girls had already brushed their teeth.  I know it will shock you when I tell you Coleman has a thing for watching the girls brush their teeth.  But since they were done, and already lying down in bed, I told Coleman he would have to wait until the next day to see them brush their teeth.  And then ensued the yelling, crying, hitting, and hair-pulling, pleading for them to please brush their teeth again.  It would have been a lot easier to just make them do it.  But it was late, everyone was tired, and we just said no.  But for Coleman’s OCD, who knows what could happen if he didn’t get to see them dribble toothpaste all over the sink.  He was a wreck, and just didn’t know how to calm down and in the words of Queen Elsa, Let it Go.  An already late night turned into an even later night, with everyone going to bed completely upset.  We were beyond witty remarks to lighten the mood.  He has been equally nasty today, ordering around the girls and their friends, and being generally disagreeable.  This is not his usual charming personality and he’s not all that fun to be around.  I like the happy him a lot more.   

So when we can, we grab those jokes, throw out those comical remarks to keep us all sane.  It’s worked so far.  And when all else fails, we’ll just say “Everyone laugh!”