The Best Medicine.

This morning, I reached across the bed with my leg and rested my foot on Avrien's stomach. I have this thing, where I love being close to him, and being next to him, but I can't handle the heat of a long, leisure cuddle. I do this in my sleep all of the time. Avrien often wakes up with a foot on his back, shoulder, stomach, or leg. Since the baby sleeps with us, he sometimes wakes up with a foot under his back and a diaper in his face.
Sorry Ave.
He never complains about it, and he is still able to laugh about it. This morning, as my foot was resting on his stomach, he reached down and tickled the bottom of my foot. I spastically retracted my leg back to my side of the bed. "Stop!" I whined, half asleep. When I felt that the coast was clear, I put my foot back on his leg. He did it again. "Cut it out!" I said. He started to laugh. "I'm serious. Stop it," I said, as I tried not to laugh. We couldn't help ourselves. We woke up at 6am this morning laughing. This was a beautiful start to the day.

When I was pregnant, God put an immense amount of joy in my heart because I would laugh, and laugh, and laugh. I would laugh, until I cried, my entire pregnancy. Mother Teresa said that, "Joy is the echo of God's love in our hearts." My son, George, is such a joyful child. Sometimes, I wonder if God made him such a joyful child, that his joy spilled forth into me as I carried him.

My hope is that I laugh my way into old age. My students tell me that I look young. They may, simply, be saying that to get an 'A' in my class. Not a chance, but I will accept the compliment. I have one student that tells me I look 18 all the time. "God bless you!" I say back.
Could it be the fact that I laugh with them? We laugh together, and laughter makes us all the same age, I guess.

You don't have to be 16 to use it.
You don't have to be 21 to take a swig of it.

It is what it is...the very best medicine.