On Joy

The highly anticipated “Hey Diddle Diddle” DVD arrived in the mail yesterday. It did not disappoint. To borrow Amy’s description, Leo practically vibrated he was so excited to watch it.

Last night, as I performed my evening delicate balancing act of cooking dinner-unpacking lunchboxes-unloading-loading dishwasher, Leo watched his new “movie” in silent rapture. Silent, that is, except for when he was jumping up and down and exclaiming “Yay!” and singing along with the lyrics.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again. Leo’s ability to express joy and celebrate the littlest things in life is humbling and inspiring. And I do mean celebrate. I know this is true of many kids, but I’ve never seen it like I see it in Leo. Another bonus? You always know where you stand with Leo. When things are good they are very, very good. When they are not they are…not.

It’s not just that Leo expresses happiness differently and more, shall we say, exuberantly. It’s that he prefers to be happy. He actively seeks this joy. It’s the good old default setting that I wrote about once. I think about this often, especially, say, when he's run to the back of the mini van or decided he absolutely does not want to get dressed for school. Sure those moments are maddening and bang-my-head-against-the-wall worthy. But they are fleeting. And they are only a tiny part of the whole, complicated package that makes up Leo.

I was talking to a friend the other day about our kids and she mentioned how she felt almost frustrated with her typical child, for not being more open about how she felt about “fun” stuff. Was she having a good time? Did she think what they were doing was exciting? With her other child, who has Down syndrome, there was never a question. If she was happy everyone knew. And if she wasn’t, well, you know the rest.

What I wouldn’t do to attain the place that Leo has found. Oh I do, but not with such ease. Luckily, Leo’s glee is often contagious.

Leo with Grandpa at Laurelhurst Park, summer 2008. Just look at that face.

Ebullient, unrestrained joy is a beautiful sight to see. I hope you get to experience it someday. It truly makes all the hard stuff, well, not so hard.