I am a Mormon, so I do not drink alcohol or do some other things that lots of every day people use as coping mechanisms. I've thought of taking up sky diving, but my darn brain and heart won't cooperate. What is my vice?
You probably would never guess Deadliest Catch. Welcome to my guilty pleasure.
Sometimes I just want to sit back and be entertained. I want to just turn my brain off and get lost in the story. Probably why I love books so much. Totally another escape for me. I have been plowing through other people's stories lately to avoid looking at my own. I can't sleep anyway, so why not stay up lost in a good book?
Back to the Discovery Channel.
Who would have thought that I have been watching a show, from the beginning, about a bunch of crazy's in the middle of the Bering Sea, crab fishing. I know-it doesn't make sense for a thirty-something housewife to be connected to guys who swear like the literal sailors they are, who fight all of the time and smoke like chimneys. Yet, I have been hooked for years and can't wait for each new episode. I cried when Phil died. I congratulated Edgar for wanting to be a better father. I mourned with Jake when his dad went missing, not long after he lost his special needs sister. I love to hate Keith. I wanted to slap Jake H across the face and pack his bags for rehab myself. I love those Hillstrand's and their affinity for blowing things up and playing practical jokes. They are my favorite. I totally am jealous of Wild Bill's hair. I have cheered from my couch when things were good and I have felt a pit in my stomach when I see empty pots. When the Coast Guard has to come, I am practically biting my fingernails. I obviously don't watch it when Cole is around (thank goodness for DVR), and have learned that I can't watch it before bed. Too much drama! Makes for wild dreams. I must say though that the producers of this show are absolutely phenomenal. The cinematography is incredible and the stories that they weave of these men who literally risk their life for the deadliest job out there is something that entertains and moves me.
No Real Housewives of Anything for me. Give me Captain Sig any day.
Things have been stormy on our home front. There have only been 2 days in the last three weeks that Cole has not needed rescue meds for seizures. Small ones, big ones and everything in between. His behavior has been out of control and he has turned into a full-blown bully. We have decided to lower his Keppra, but plain and simple, we are exhausted. I consciously choose every day to not eat my feelings, because I think it would just never end. I can't really have a GNO, so I spent some time on Saturday reading and catching up with my DC episodes on the DVR. Saturday evening we tried to go out to dinner as a family and take a little break. Cole kept saying that he wanted rice and beans, so we headed to Cafe Rio. He had been struggling all day, but then again, he is struggling constantly now. We were prepared, kind of.
As we were pulling out of the driveway, Brian realized that we did not have the oxygen. I said that we wouldn't need it, being optimistic. We ran into a bunch of friends when we came in and I thought, "This is great! We are doing the same, normal thing that every one else is!" Insert foot in mouth. We ended up having to lay Cole out on top of a nearby table, near the end of our meal.
I was actually in the process of meeting my friend's mom when I realized that Cole needed my help. I had to say, "Excuse me" and pick my seizing child up off of the floor like it was an every day occurrence. Oh wait, it is. Working with efficiency that we have perfected over time, we took care of things, with open mouthed onlookers. It was actually the first time that a stranger came right over and asked if I needed help. There have been so many times when I have been alone during seizures in public, or needed assistance when there have just been stares or people rushing away like we were offending them. So-I was grateful for the people who asked if I needed help. I actually had this one under control, but it was nice to know that there are still good people out there. If you see someone trying to take care of somebody who is having a seizure, ask if they need help. They might not, but at least ask! Off my soapbox. Thankfully his O2 stayed in the right range and it was over soon.
When we were on our way home, covered in drool and leftover tortilla, I thought, "When did this become normal?" We try so hard. We always celebrate the victories, but every so often the stacked up failures just get to you. It is like our vessel is covered in ice and we are constantly trying to beat it off, only to be totally iced over again in a few hours. It is back-breaking, tiring work but you get a major pay check in the end. They get millions, I get my little boy. At least I get to sleep in a big bed and don't have to wear 6 layers just to go outside ;)
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