Paleoanthropology and laughter (yes for real)

Hi friends. 

While working the hospital one fine day, one of the cutest old men you've ever seen wanted me to read a story in January's National Geographic. It was about Ella Al-Shamahi- a paleoanthropologist who also does stand-up comedy. Her paleoanthropology gig is nothing to laugh about- she digs fossils in the Middle East to research Neanderthal evolution. Whoa.

She said:

"Some places where I research are quite dark. It's incredible therapy to find the funny in it. The stage is an escape. There's an entertainment component, but it's also very selfish. You're escaping from the formalities of life and data. You can be ridiculous. People let you be ridiculous because the places you take them can be very fun."

Did you read that? Wow. I hadn't previously realized the similarities between paleoanthropology and my life. (Although Waylon is *kind of* a Neanderthal... He prefers to be naked, dirty, and he only eats red meat.)

I think I'd like comedy to be the next stage in the evolution of how we present special needs parenting. I've said it once, and I'll say it again- if you are facing a mountain in life, if you can find a way to laugh, you can surpass it.

For the 3rd year, I am proud to participate in an amazingly hilarious and therapeutic comedy show/fundraiser called Evening with the Rents. It supports a very special summer camp for kids with special needs- Camp Encourage. And, um, well, it's tomorrow. 

I've been rehearsing for months, my lines are (mostly) memorized, my outfit is picked out, and dress rehearsal is tonight. It's go time. I promise you we've put together three hours of hilariously therapeutic comedy- all I need is for you to join me. Also a good BM would be nice so I can feel skinny on stage. 

Are you struggling? (Who isn't, really?) Join me. We'll laugh through it.

rents.brownpapertickets.com

Groupies

I told Travis a month ago that we were going as a family to the Catholic School's Week kick-off concert at the kids' school. Last year, he gladly stayed home with the baby. But the concert was so good! How could I convince him to go? I said, "Travis- it's like AC/DC was at our children's school. You can't miss it again."

I just really really really wanted to be able to go somewhere as a family. Do you ever feel like that?

But still, just before we left the house, I got the usual- "Why don't I just stay home with Waylon and Lucy? You can go with the other kids and have a good time. It would be so much easier that way."

Easier? Yes. Most definitely. But heck to the no, I said. I just really really really want to be able to go to this as a family. Am I repeating myself?
We did all the prep work– "Waylon, we are going to the big kids' school. There will be music. It will be loud." We packed the headphones. The iPad. We drove separately, just in case.

Turns out, the kid loves live concerts.

Who knew?

Specimen A: 

I was pretty sure he would trip and crash into their set. Props to the Mikey Needleman Band for not stopping and asking the stimming/spinning dude down it front to take it down a notch.

Specimen B: 

He danced with his sister. And she danced back. In front of her friends. Her body language said, "Yeah, this is my brother with autism. Isn't he awesome?" Per usual, that girl amazed me with her unselfish love for others, especially Waylon. She owned it.

Parents of kids with autism: don't be afraid to try new things. Go places. For every five or 10 or 15 or 20 times your kid melts down in public and you are thoroughly embarrassed, there will be one time they far exceed your expectations. And your love tank will overflow.

We are groupies.