Wednesday, November 17, 2004
On Humor
I don't understood the Three Stooges. I know, I know--some people would say, "What's there to understand?!" What I mean is that I don't understand why some people find them funny. From what I've observed, it's usually men who glean entertainment value in these oddballs. Someone once explained to me that their brand of comedy is called "physical humor." Now I've got a name for it, but I can't say that that has helped me to appreciate it any better.
This afternoon Max, Boo and I were playing in Boo's room. The futon on the floor has become a favorite place for the boys to tumble around. Mother that I am, I'm partial to its cushioning effect. Today Max created a new trick. Standing near the futon with his back to it, he began to balance on one leg. Then he extended his hands out to his sides, tilted his body to the left, and began to flail his arms in a mock attempt to remain vertical. Finally succumbing to gravity, Max fell sideways onto the mat with a laugh.
And Boo, ever the dutiful audience for his big brother, erupted into giggles.
So up popped Max to try another position. This time he fell backwards, his feet folding over his head like a hinged door. Boo Boo burst into hysterics.
On and on they went, Max perfecting backwards kamikaze dives and Boo egging him on with sheer delight. My little men--they evidently have in their genetic code an understanding of what makes the Three Stooges funny.
And I laughed along, too.
This afternoon Max, Boo and I were playing in Boo's room. The futon on the floor has become a favorite place for the boys to tumble around. Mother that I am, I'm partial to its cushioning effect. Today Max created a new trick. Standing near the futon with his back to it, he began to balance on one leg. Then he extended his hands out to his sides, tilted his body to the left, and began to flail his arms in a mock attempt to remain vertical. Finally succumbing to gravity, Max fell sideways onto the mat with a laugh.
And Boo, ever the dutiful audience for his big brother, erupted into giggles.
So up popped Max to try another position. This time he fell backwards, his feet folding over his head like a hinged door. Boo Boo burst into hysterics.
On and on they went, Max perfecting backwards kamikaze dives and Boo egging him on with sheer delight. My little men--they evidently have in their genetic code an understanding of what makes the Three Stooges funny.
And I laughed along, too.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Trouble and Joy
On Friday evening, Don and Shelly Wood invited me to the opera. Although I hadn't seen Madame Butterfly before, I had surmised much of the plot, particularly that all would not end happily for the opera's namesake. Even so, I had not anticipated that Butterfly would be called upon to surrender her 3 year old son to his father. The adorable child who played the boy resembled Max, and as Butterfly sang her final anguished aria, it was all I could do to keep from coming emotionally unhinged. On the way home, after I was in a more composed state, it dawned on me that the young boy is perfectly named: his mother calls him, alternately, Trouble and Joy.
This evening as I put my own little Trouble/Joy to bed, he again asked for "some skin." With his head was resting on my bare stomach, I asked Max how he felt. He said, "Safe." And then he said, "Let's talk about my feelings." We play several versions of this game, but this evening our conversation went like this:
- When do you feel happy, Max?
- When I'm smiling.
- When do you feel sad?
- When I'm in a time out.
- When do you feel scared?
- When a monster chases me.
- When do you feel excited?
- When I see something I like.
- When do you feel silly?
- When I shake my head like this.
- When do you feel shy?
- With Jackie. [Max was hiding his head like an ostrich when Jackie and Shelly came by today to take me to lunch.]
- When do you feel nervous?
- When I take a nap.
- When do you feel angry?
- When I'm in time out.
- When do you feel loving?
- With Don and Shelly.
Therapy is expensive--really, really expensive. But helping Max forge an emotional compass to navigate the travails of boyhood and beyond? That is truly priceless.
This evening as I put my own little Trouble/Joy to bed, he again asked for "some skin." With his head was resting on my bare stomach, I asked Max how he felt. He said, "Safe." And then he said, "Let's talk about my feelings." We play several versions of this game, but this evening our conversation went like this:
- When do you feel happy, Max?
- When I'm smiling.
- When do you feel sad?
- When I'm in a time out.
- When do you feel scared?
- When a monster chases me.
- When do you feel excited?
- When I see something I like.
- When do you feel silly?
- When I shake my head like this.
- When do you feel shy?
- With Jackie. [Max was hiding his head like an ostrich when Jackie and Shelly came by today to take me to lunch.]
- When do you feel nervous?
- When I take a nap.
- When do you feel angry?
- When I'm in time out.
- When do you feel loving?
- With Don and Shelly.
Therapy is expensive--really, really expensive. But helping Max forge an emotional compass to navigate the travails of boyhood and beyond? That is truly priceless.
