You gotta smile. You gotta laugh. If you can’t figure it out then come visit us… you will soon enough. It’s hard to think that anyone can go through hard times, tough times, good times, sad times and all the other ups and downs in life without smiling and laughing. It’s the next best thing to ice cream and bourbon (the first for you, the latter for me). I’ve been around so many people in the last couple years that just don’t have the desire to smile or laugh and to me it is sad. There are so many serious attitudes and personalities that don’t let humor in. And all I can do is laugh at it too. OK, I’ll admit that a lot of my own humor is generated from sarcasm but a lot of it is also good wholesome humor and fun.
Autism. Sounds serious, right? This was the only word the Doctor wrote on the page that had Shane’s diagnosis. One word. We took the results of Shane testing and his “diagnosis” and went to the team at the Sussex Consortium in Lewes, DE who we had met with the week prior about Shane and finding school solutions for him. We had a meeting set up at our house and we met at the kitchen table. After showing Kris and Susie the diagnosis… Brooke and I looked at each other and laughed. We laughed at the fact that one word written on this paper summed up Shane to this point and would set the stage for every move we made going forward. Really though, we did laugh, because we were expecting a much more in-depth diagnosis and summary from the Neurologist we met with. You know, something with big words and test results and something that showed symptoms and a prognosis maybe. Nope, just one word.
As Brooke and I met at the table with Kris and Susie we went over all the paperwork needed to get Shane started at the Consortium. Little did we know at the time but we were entering a phase of our lives that would forever be changed by everyone at the Consortium and we met some of our very best friends here. But more paperwork and more observations were needed. Shane sauntered into the kitchen during our talk and was on a mission for some Pringles. If any of you have heard the stories of Shane and Pringles, don’t spoil anything for everyone else. Keep in mind that Shane was just about to turn 2 years old the week after this meeting. For quite some time Shane had come to love Sour Cream and Onion Pringles (the green can). But not just ANY Sour Cream and Onion Pringle… an absolutely perfect and pristine Pringle – no chips, dings, scratches, cracks or dents… it had to be perfect. Susie and Kris did not believe us when we stated this and we laughed a lot about it but we had to have Shane show them. Susie took out a Pringle, broke off a piece and handed it to Shane. Shane took it in his hand, looked it over and threw it back up on the table. “Not good enough” Shane was probably thinking. Kris then tried to outsmart Shane by taking 2 broken Pringles and overlapping them so they “look” like one perfect chip. Again, back on the table it went and a high-pitched screech of frustration followed quickly. One last try by breaking the tiniest of tiny pieces (barely noticeable to the naked eye) off the chip and handing it to Shane. He held it up as if he were looking inspecting a precious jewel – checking the light and the edges for any… NOPE, it wasn’t perfect either. We laughed a lot through this process as our reality was visible to other people now. Shane’s reality was coming much more into focus for his two newest advocates. Shane did finally get his perfect Pringles and snacked a bit as he wandered around the table in the kitchen. That is, before he climbed up on the table and started running back and forth on it. Yes, he’d run about 4 steps from one person at one end to the other at the other end, non-stop! No reason other than it’s just something he wanted to do. We allowed it to further show Shane’s great comedic acts and finally set him down to run off into the living room to climb on something else.

So there we were in what many would consider a tough time. We just got a diagnosis of Autism for our 2 year old son. We were newly relocated to Delaware 2 months previously and we had a world of unknown “stuff” ahead of us. And yet here Brooke and I were; in our kitchen laughing about the antics of our son with Autism. We had to laugh. It was always an outlet for us. We would continue to laugh at every moment that was worth of laughing about. And let me tell you – there are so, so many!

Laughing. We do it all the time now, for many many years. I laugh at myself as much as other people laugh at me (and sometimes with me). I laugh in the moment and laugh long after the moment as well. I hope you can find a way to laugh too. It helps everything seem so much better… if only for a moment. But then… there are more moments that follow. Laugh. Laugh a lot. Laugh often. If even for the silliest of reasons. Just laugh.

