I Believe We Should All Roar

Hello!

I believe we all should roar.

For at least a few months now, there has been a lot of roaring going on at my house. Being very busy, I tuned out the roaring along with the microwave beeping, the washing machine buzzing and the telephone ringing. I have become accustomed to tuning in and out at will. The roaring was just another tune-out.

When I talk about roaring, I mean actual lion roaring-with the loud, deep throat gravelly roaring followed by the happy smirk and giggle from my six year old son. I'm not sure what really precipitated roaring to be such a happy phenomenon in my family, all I know is that my husband and son have been "roaring" between the two of them for some time now.

It's kind of ritualistic when I step back and observe it. One, usually my son, bounces down the stairs, his eyes on his dad at the computer, sneaks up behind him and lets out a lion cub roar. Then my husband, feigning surprise and fright, turns around and belts out a great big daddy roar. Then the two of them start wrestling and roaring and eventually they settle into activities.

Now, I'm not much of a roar-er. (At least the animal kind.)

Since Christmas though, my husband has been in and out of the hospital battling a kidney stone and infection. He's been home in between admissions but, as you can imagine, feeling a little under the weather. Over the past two weeks, I've become the object of "roaring." At first, I thought it was silly and cute. But as the roaring became more persistent, and almost constant, I felt I had to take a moment to analyze the situation.

What I realized was this...my little lion cub was missing his big lion dad and had no other way to express his unease except to roar at me. So being the cool, hip, lioness that I am, the next time lion cub roared at me...I roared back.

Well, after my roaring, little lion cub looked at me, laughed and said, "You don't scare me like daddy does." I took that as a challenge. So for the last week or so, I've worked on perfecting my "roar." I roar in the morning when I wake my son up for school. I roar as we put on mittens and coats and boots. I roar at stop signs and in the grocery line. I roar so much I'm going hoarse and all I get is a giggle, and a "you don't scare me."

I almost gave up, that is until we were on the way to pick up dad from the hospital Saturday morning. The two of us were standing in the elevator "driving" up to the third floor. It was silent. I looked over at my little lion who was staring at the elevator floor numbers lighting up as we ascended. He was very intent on our journey. I smiled to myself and took in a huge breath. Then I let out the most hugest, growliest, guttural lion roar that even a real lioness would have stood up and been proud.

My little guy jumped, then smiled, and exclaimed with a big-faced grin, "Wow mom, you scared me." I nodded like it was nothing and said, "There's more where that came from," and I hugged and tickled him.

Now, there's a whole lot of roaring going on in our house, and I've never been more tuned in.

Hope you find something to roar about in your home this year.

Have hope,
Donna