Monster See, Monster Do

For some, being entertaining seems to come more naturally than it does for others.  Being fresh to this whole blogging thing, I have found it a little more difficult than I had originally anticipated to get what I’m thinking out there in a way that is as funny, witty, and entertaining as it appears in my head.  And I have to say, I’m a little jealous of my kids when it comes to this ability.  For them, it seems entertainment, whether finding or creating it, is a cakewalk.  For my kids, funny seems to just come naturally.  They are hilarious - and not just because I’m their mom and I think that they eat rainbows and poop butterflies - but because they really are just funny, and the kicker is that they don’t even know it.

For example, I’m in the kitchen making dinner one night and my four-year-old rushes in and stops in front of me all like, “Hey mom, check out THESE babies!” As I turn to look, I see him rotate his arms downward and flex in serious muscle-man fashion, then lift each arm to his mouth, one by one, and KISS his biceps!  KISS HIS FREAKING BICEPS!  Then he runs off and I just stand there, laughing and shaking my head as I ask myself “What just happened? Was that my kid? He’s FOUR YEARS OLD, where the crap did he get that from?”

And though I can usually count on the little one always being a character, his brother definitely has his moments, too.  One day they were both playing some imaginary game that involved light sabers, kung-fu moves, live-action sound effects, and the couch as a spring board (which is something I’m not too incredibly thrilled about and is the source of repeated time-outs - but we will save the couch kung-fu for another time).  On this particular day, CJ had the brilliant idea that part of his kung-fu mastery display would involve a running leap onto the couch, followed by a full somersault roll over the chaise lounge and back onto his feet.  Only, it didn’t quite go as planned.  Instead, he ran toward the couch, jumped up and landed on his knees, bounced off of the cushion and over the side of the chaise lounge, and landed flat on his butt on the floor.  Before I could even ask him if he was alright, he leapt up off of the floor and announced “I’m OK!  It’s alright, I’m OK!”

Of course I just sat there and laughed.

When I ask myself why it’s so much easier for them to be so funny, the only answer I can come up with is sheer lack of inhibition.  They are so far away from caring what anyone else is thinking, doing, feeling, or saying that they’re just free to do and laugh at what they feel is funny, and say whatever is on their minds. Now, I know I’m not the first person on the planet that has ever made this connection (in fact I’m pretty sure it was this same basic concept that led to the development of Wacko Jacko’s Neverland Ranch), but what I’m essentially saying here is maybe it isn’t such a bad thing to act like a kid sometimes - to throw the confines of every day responsibilities and the realities of your life away for a moment, embrace a little immaturity, laugh at the silly things and just be happy to be.

I know I’m no philosopher and I have no degree, but it seems to just make sense to me.  Especially lately as I’m struggling with my own take on the world and where I am in my life.  Like a lot of people that have made personal sacrifices to raise kids, I’m still juggling that age-old question about what and who I want to be when I grow up.  Part of me is content with the pieces I already have in place (I always wanted to be a mommy), but another part of me longs to do so much more with my life.  I guess what it essentially comes down to is this: do I want to be the kind of person that takes themselves and everything else so seriously in order to achieve my goals, that I make it virtually impossible to enjoy the small things that surround me every day?  I know that I don’t.  And I think it’s in these times of questioning and self-doubt, what I really need most is to be able to laugh and let go - and there really isn’t anyone I know who is better at laughing and letting go than my monsters.

So, even though I am the one that is supposed to be leading by example and molding and shaping them into the functioning adults they’re meant to be, I find that, from time to time, I am actually looking to them as the examples as they mold and shape me.