A little laughter

Laughter is good for the soul.

Laughter reduces stress and strengthens positive coping skills. Tell that to a mother of little ones.

The call came late in the afternoon. It was my grandson, Matthew. “Grandma, what are you doing?” The sound of his voice told me he wasn’t calling to chat. He was in Minnesota on a visiting chef business trip. Grandma Janet was on call to help with his three boys and their mother.

“Jason and Tiberius were supposed to be taking a nap, but they found the jar of Vaseline. Keerstin is having a come apart. Could you help?”

Living just three blocks away has lots of advantages. I got there almost as quickly as a toddler could unscrew a jar of Vaseline.

I walked inside the door and Keerstin looked like she needed a friend and a week’s vacation on a beach … all by herself. I had been there. I knew, all too well, that look.

Now you need to understand she and Matthew have a three-year-old, two-year-old and an infant. On a good day, she has her hands full. On a bad day, she is like a juggling trapeze artist who now has Vaseline on her hands.

I handed her a few dollar bills which I knew would pay for her favorite Starbucks drink. “Keerstin, you need a time out, go out for a few minutes I’ll handle the boys.” Her smile told me at that moment I was her favorite GaGa. She thanked me and off she went.

I walked into the family room and there on the west end of the sofa was three-year-old Jason and on the east end was two-year-old Tiberius. Baby Thomas was tucked in the swinging Mamaroo. He was sound asleep. The older two had been put in “time out.”

Tiberius looked at me with the most innocent of eyes, “GaGa, I be bad. I opened de Baseline.”

Photo provided

It took no time for Jason to speak up and within seconds he gave the decree that Tiberius was the guilty offender. It took every bit of composure this GaGa could grasp not to burst out in laughter.

I told Tiberius he was not bad he just did a bad thing. He smiled such an innocent smile touched with a bit of orneriness. I had seen that same smile on his daddy and grandpa.

Keerstin had given them a bath and cleaned up the Vaseline. I was just there for the after-party.

Thirty minutes later Keerstin walked inside the house carrying her Starbucks coffee like it was a trophy for surviving what I knew would be one of many disasters of motherhood.

They happen. And she will survive.

How do I know she will survive? I did.

You see, the grandfather of those boys got into Vaseline when he was a toddler. He didn’t just smear it on himself but into the brown and orange shag carpet in his room. Have I ever mentioned I hate shag carpet? We didn’t have Starbucks back then. I do remember my mother coming to help while I scrubbed and scrubbed and shed a few tears as cleaned up the sticky, greasy, it won’t all come out, mess. Have I mentioned I hate Vaseline?

The attraction to Vaseline must be hereditary.

Motherhood is hard. Fatherhood is hard. Not only do little ones need a time out but so do their mommies and daddies.

Keerstin still wasn’t laughing when I left their house but someday, she will. She will have a story to tell. Her soul will laugh as she tells her story to another mama whose little ones found the Vaseline. There is such power in empathy.

I have a feeling I will be putting Keerstin in a mommy time out again. Three little boys will keep us all having come aparts as they discover new adventures and things to get into.

I probably shouldn’t tell her how difficult it is to clean up baby powder when the container is emptied. Her soul can only take so much laughter.

A cheerful heart is good medicine: but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength. Proverbs 17:22 NLT

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.