The World Needs More Belly Laughs

About six years ago, I noticed a change in my son. The once blonde-haired, bubbly little boy had lost his contagious belly laugh. Even now, I believe it happened over night. And I have searched my mind for events or situations that might have stolen it from him. I've even watched the home video of him the night before his sister was born. His smile lit up the room as he bounced from the love seat to cushions and back around. He made countless trips from the chair to the cushion, each bounce causing this rippling laugh straight from his gut. That rumbling laugh could break any frown. These days I keep a close eye on my daughter, who's belly laugh has stuck with her an incredible three years longer than her brother's. Even at the age of six, little things like dog tricks on really bad TV, cause her to laugh from the deepest parts of her tummy. Warm giggles, eyes-clenched-shut smiles, radiate from her small body in waves. This time around, I find myself stopping to watch, listen and try to memorize these moments. However, earlier this week, their grandparents stopped briefly to see their grandkids. Both, our son and daughter, were tired and were supposed to wind down for the evening. Instead, they chased each other around the house. You could feel their energy and with each giggle, laugh or squeal, it became harder and harder to ask them to settle down. The belly laugh even made a brief appearance from my son...an occasion worthy of noting. There's a huge life lesson to be learned from a really great belly laugh, and although it's extremely cliche, it's true: Laughter is the Best Medicine. It is far easier to let the weight of responsibilities, let downs and the unknown to drag down the corners of your mouth. Furrowing your eyebrows is a far more natural movement that a simple chuckle. If we celebrated the good and the simple "funny" in life a fraction of the time that we delegate to negativity, belly laughs could make a comeback. With that comeback would be positive feedback, stronger friendships and healthier bodies. My belief is that my daughter's role as a little sister to her more serious brother is to remind him to laugh. To be silly. And to be reminded of all the simple goodness that surrounds him. His role for her? To protect, offer guidance and provide a shoulder in those moments she's led to question her optimism.