Tag Archives: Belly Laugh

Whatever Wednesday: Anatomy of a Laugh

Most new mothers will tell you about the first time their child laughed. Not giggled, not chuckled, but laughed from the depths of their very souls – a belly laugh jiggling on up just like that of Jolly Old Saint Nick. And they’ll do it with a grin full of reminiscent whimsy on their faces. Today it’s my turn.

Much of our second daughter’s life is composed of celebrating simple milestones on a delayed schedule. But it’s okay because this is our normal. We embrace this, celebrating each new achievement as they come. The bonus to the delay is that many of these milestones we get to really share with her which makes it even more special.

When she blew up a balloon for the first time – we were beside ourselves. When she blew out the candles on her own this past year as she turned four, I had to leave the room because I had tears threatening to break the dam of my perma-happy mama face. A little composition and I rejoined the party, laughing and downing cake with the best of them.

This past week, Charlotte developed an annoying habit. She over-laughs at everything. When I say over-laugh, I mean, over-laugh. Think a Seinfeld laugh track on speed and pumped up a zillion times past the highest volume of which your ears are capable. And she now over-laughs at the most inopportune moments at things which are not even funny. Now, Charlotte is a jokester. Her goal in life (and she’ll tell you this) is to make everyone laugh and smile. All.the.time! She is just not happy unless you are smiling, giggling, or tickling her. Then a glint in her eye sparkles and all is right in her little world. Course, snatching toys from her little brother (like she is no doubt doing right now because he is screaming) also makes her happy. We’re working on that one.

As many of my regular readers know, we have struggled with Charlotte’s speech development due to her cleft palate. She has greatly improved but we are still on an upward hill toward improving her speech. One of the sounds we struggle with are the “glottals.” Now for those of you who haven’t earned an unofficial Ph.D in speech therapy, I want you to put your hand on your throat and make a “guh guh guh” sound. Your “adams apple” should move and you should feel the sound vibrate at the very back of your throat. That is a glottal. Because of Charlotte’s cleft, she learned how to make several sounds by slamming her vocal cords shut instead of using her pharyngeal flap which is what helps make the glottal sound. It’s TOUGH to unlearn something your body has naturally adjusted to doing – it’d be a bit like learning how to walk all over again.

In researching for this post (I know, it’s a Whatever Wednesday. I’m supposed to ditch the research. But I like research), I tweeted Dr. Greene to ask him when a baby normally laughs first, making it clear I was asking about belly laughs. According to Dr. Greene (in 140 chars or less so be nice), “A: First laugh varies a lot. Some do by 2 mo. Most at least giggle by 3 mo. Evaluate if no belly laugh by 9 mo” Charlotte has always laughed. She was a happy baby. But her laugh was high-pitched as happens with most cleft babies as they lack the muscle control to make deep glottal sounds. Many cleft babies must learn how to make their glottal sounds later in life.

As the week progressed, Charlotte’s laugh slammed into me much like a mad seal barking at an intruder. Then last night I had an epiphany.

Charlotte, through her mad seal barking, has been practicing her glottals.

And by George, she’s really and truly BELLY LAUGHING.

For the FIRST.TIME.EVER.

Do you hear me?

My baby, at FOUR YEARS OLD, is finally belly laughing.

What a sweet, wonderful moment when the belly laughter comes!” Dr. Greene commented in response to why I needed the research.

Yes indeed. A Sweet, WONDERFUL, and AMAZING Moment.

Belly Laugh away, sweet Charlotte.

I promise if I ask you to stop it will be with love, gratefulness, and a warm heart.

And because Mommy has a headache and is fresh out of Excedrin.