What's a Friday Without a YAWP?

"I sound my barbaric YAWP over the rooftops of the world."

~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Perhaps you are asking yourself, "Just what exactly is a YAWP?" I'm so glad you asked.

YAWPing is simple. You just throw back your head and yell, "YAWP!" at the top of your lungs. Your mouth should be wide, wide open for most effective YAWPing. For Team Lawson, a YAWP is a way of affirming our joy at being alive. It is strange, and a little bit odd, and freakishly fun to do out the car window. Our YAWPing is one of those little family things; like a secret handshake. It draws us closer, gives us a giggle, confirms our status as a solid unit. We love to YAWP!

Like most things, YAWPing is better shared. A friend and I carpool twice a week to and from work. Our children are friends, and we always have a great time. Back in September, Sloane and I introduced our carpool buddies to YAWPing. We all love it! I wish you could see us some Friday: all the windows rolled down whatever the weather, five mouths stretched wide and hollering "YAWP" out every window. Then we laugh and laugh.

This week we had a staff meeting just before going home. My friend and I were yak-yak-yaking about all the concerns facing our school right now. Suddenly, a little voice pipes up from the back seat. Sloane says, "Momma? What's a Friday without a YAWP?" The adults immediately stopped worrying and commiserating, and we all rolled our windows right down. The five of us YAWPed and YAWPed and YAWPed. And, you know what? We never picked our troubles back up. Instead, we laughed all the way home.

Thank you, Sloane, for the reminder to YAWP. Sometimes it is just better to holler and laugh than worry over things that you can't change. Sometimes talking with a friend helps, but laughing with a friend always does. Thank God for children. They remind us to celebrate, to laugh, to live a YAWPing life.

And a very happy, YAWPful weekend to you all.

Sursum corda!

Miracles

from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle?

As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with anyone I love,
Or sleep in the bed at night with anyone I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,
Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;

These with the rest, one and all, are to me
miracles

This image of Uncle Walt is from Weekly Reader. The rooftops of the world photo is from Getty Images.