Confessions of a Nervous Laugher

I am a nervous laugher (NL). Pure. Simple. Embarrassing. How do you know if you are a NL? Well, let's see: You find yourself laughing at very inappropriate times. Not simply when someone bites-the-dust right in front of you. This is more like when you witness an elderly person who is falling and you can do nothing to help, can't catch the fall, can't stop the pain, can't even comfort that person.......and your response is to laugh. Uncomfortable? Yep, that's me. I cannot help it! I don't think it is funny but it is my response to extreme stress, helplessness, and uncertainty.

I worked with a college kid one time who told me that I was downright awful. Then proceeded to tell me that I was going to ruin my kids' lives, if I didn't stop. Ouch!! Later he confessed that his mom is a nervous laugher, and then I understood. He suffered a horrific hockey accident that left his leg completely filleted. What did his mom do in the hospital? Choke back the uncontrollable laughter that was trying to escape. Sad? I've been there. I know her pain. Knowing it hurt his heart, broke mine. For him; for my boys. My single prayer is that I helped him understand that his mom wasn't laughing because she thought the situation was funny but because she was unable to help him. 

I knew it was high time that I wrote about this funny little, not so funny issue of mine when I was sitting in a bible study group a few weeks ago. As we went around the table, doing what a group always does the first time meeting, the leader explained that if I started laughing, it wasn't because I was being awful, but rather I'm a nervous laughter. Lol!! I almost died laughing! Then she proceeded to give an example of a time when I found myself unable to stop from laughing at a funeral! Praise the Lord! I know! I feel awful! I don't confess that because it is funny, I do so because it is not! As a side not, the leader was not throwing me under the bus; telling this groups this ditty about me was complete wisdom. It was not malice in any way --quite the opposite. Because we would be studying and sharing very serious information with one another --they needed to know. My strong desire is to never hurt any person's heart!

My first confession:

Noah, who was four, was playing Buzz Lightyear with the neighbor kid. As they ran towards each other, the neighbor's laser gun connected with Noah's mouth --completely slitting his lip almost all the way up to his nose. It was a bloody horrific mess. John picked him up and ran like a crazy person into the house, mumbling threats of retribution against the poor neighbor kid. (Can you tell who the panicker is??) As he held Noah in a tight grip, I had to convince my sweet husband to calm down and hand over the child! Literally, no joke. John panics and grabs hold of the child and will not let go. He looks like a rabid, ferocious, big daddy bear protecting his cubs! And it doesn't help that this glazed over look of death, makes me laugh! After I talk John into giving me the child, one look and I knew we had to take him to the doc --dread filled my heart on many levels. Why? Because we are going to mob up in that doctor's office with all our craziness in toe!

When we arrived at the doctor's office, they ushered us into a room then proceeded to explain the procedure they would need to perform. Giggles were already rising in my chest when I signed him in. As they explained, the giggles hit my face, pasting a hysterical looking smile on it. In my head I'm yelling at myself, "Knock it off!! He is going to be okay!!" 

The first part of this procedure was to wrap him up in a sheet like a burrito baby! "Oh! My !Lord! Jesus! You know this child is gonna flip out," I chanted to myself trying to lessen the blow of nervous anxiety that was bound to come the minute Noah started to panic. No luck! Noah started to scream and fight us (why are small children SO strong?!?), and the more he lost it, the more I was unable to hold back the giggles bursting through my steal tight resolve.

Once we get him tightly snuggled up, the doc brings out the needle. A whole new level of hysteria fills the room and punched me right in the gut --I laugh out loud as I try to calm my horrified Noah. The doctor gives me a, "Are you crazy?!?!" look. This causes me to laugh harder, where at this point I know I need to start joking to cover up the fact that I cannot quit laughing (I'm the only one laughing at these "hilarious" comments that I'm making). Can you say, AWKWARD?? I'm laughing, Noah's lost his dang mind, and John is mad dogging everyone in the room as he is close to passing out because he has now held his breath longer than any human being should! Connor? He was sleeping soundly in his car seat like the sweet little pumpkin he is.

After what seemed like an eternity (can this doctor sew any slower, for the love of GOD!!!), we are finally packed up in the car, completely exhausted from each of our own bizarre emotional responses. Connor? He's now awake and smiling with his big-shiny eyes that are crowded with the longest lashes in the world *smile *blink-blink *smile.

Me? I'm praying fervently to my gracious God, begging that the doctor doesn't call children's protective services on us!

This my dear friends, is why people tell us all the time that their should be a reality television show about our lives.

......long sigh........ I hope I'm not ruining my children!! Lol!

This looks about right; rocking and all!!