According to the patron saint of motherhood comedy, Erma Bombeck, “There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt” (if you don’t know who she is look her up)
Until motherhood, this thought didn’t really resonate with me. But now....I’ve got enough experience and material to write not just a book, but a series.
Who here can feel me when I say that there are more days then not. Where the cereal bowl gets dumped four times at breakfast, you’re ALWAYS running late, your car smells so sour you’re gagging but can’t find the dang bottle that you know is lost under one of the freaking seats. One of your kids forget their shoes, your car runs out of gas in the carpool line, you walk into glitter glue all over the kitchen table and floor (after you just finished cleaning up the other disaster), and then to top it all off, you look down and there’s a legit little piece of poop just chillin on your shoe. You don’t know whether you should cry, curl up in the fetal position, be mad or run away.
It's in these moments I can't help but laugh hysterically. I can honestly say motherhood Has me laughing when I want to cry, crying when I want to be mad, and mad when I should be laughing. It’s got my emotions all crazy! The one thing I am so grateful for is that motherhood has taught me how to laugh not just more about life but at myself.
They’re really truly is a freedom in being able to be silly and witty and goofy. When we can laugh at ourselves and worry less about how we look or worried if somebody thinks were doing it wrong. Or worry less about if we look like a complete idiot doing it. Because I’m pretty sure we do most of the time.
“If you can’t make it better, you can always laugh about it”