I took a week off work and spent most of it so far playing with Elijah each day. We went and saw Shrek Forever yesterday and he acted like an angel. The best he could for a 3 year old at a movie.
He saw the preview for the new Karate Kid and was completely mesmerized by it. I think I might break the rule and take him to it since it has a bunch of kids in it. I was a big fan of the first two back in the day so maybe adding Jackie Chan to it might make it something cool.
It's gonna be tough to go back to work. I will see Elijah again though next weekend.
I bought the little dude his first guitar and damn if it is not significant. But I think he appreciates it and it gives he and I some commonality at night when we are being quiet and having some music time. Mostly, lately, I play him music with good melodies or over the top singers and he gets totally hooked into it.
Little guy is a bit zonked after yesterday. I took him to Santa Cruz so he can enjoy all the rides and beach fun in the sun. We went on everything we could since there are height restrictions. He would not be scared to go on anything if we could get him on it.
I loved the day with him. Spending a lazy day with him today and some lazy time tomorrow, then a small birthday party to signify his third.
I woke up at 2 AM and Elijah was crying in his bed. I went in and he was all sweaty. I thought for a moment that he just had a bad dream or something. I comforted him back to sleep... Half asleep myself, I stumbled back into my bed and was out.
Only to be woken a 1/2 an hour later by his cries, "Elijah sleep in Daddy's big bed!"
Okay... So I picked him up and when I walked by the bathroom I saw in the mirror he was flush red.
I gave him motrin and unzipped his jammies and cooled him down with a wash rag for about 10 minutes. He was calm... I was calm. I left him unzipped and threw him in bed with me.
He cried for a pillow and blanket and went back to sleep.
About 3-3:15AM, I hear the loudest shriek in my ear. It was Elijah... I flipped over and saw his eyes rolled back in his head, gasping for air and spitting everywhere.
Well... Been there before. The 5 seconds of panic from waking like that went to, Elijah is having a seizure. Really... the only thing you can do after witnessing this 4 times now is comfort him. He is gonna seize for a minute and you are not going to like what you see in your little boy's eyes. You have to keep thinking he will come out of it and you hold them so they get through it.
I just held him as he slowly stopped and just made sure he kept breathing which he did. He completely passed out though and he was running a 101 degree temp in his arm so he was probably much hotter inside. I took off his jammies and cooled him with wet rags. I tickled his feet and hands to make sure he moved them and I talked to him and he responded but he was out. 15 minutes later... We were both asleep. He was hyperventilating before the seizure a bit and I had not really noticed before but now in retrospect. He woke breathing calmly this morning at 7:30. I got him dressed and he played like normal and it was just 4 hours later.
I have been wondering though all day if he had a couple in his own bed which is why he cried out initially. The doctors keep telling us... This is normal... This is normal... This is normal...
To see him walk out of Starbucks this morning with his cup of apple juice put a tear in my eye.
Wow... it has been two whole weeks since I moved out on my own. The dead silence of the new neighborhood is so relaxing. The quiet around here is relieving. Yet I have been gone 5 of the days on the road.
I got in from Kansas at 1 AM yesterday and it was my first full day in my home office. I got a lot done. The doors were wide open all day because it is unusually warm here right now. The expected high is 78 today which is absolutely crazy for it being November already. You would expect 59 and foggy with lows around 39 and a chance of rain every week. I am a weather freak because of my career path.
I get to enjoy Elijah this weekend. He is coming down and we are going to have some fun. I need to go find some train place or something to take him to for fun. Jamestown has a whole train thing so I think I am gonna head up there. Or maybe up to Placerville (so I can sneak a wine taste or two in as well). Should be fun stuff, just the two of us hanging out.
I bought a huge bed for him that I still need to put together for him from IKEA.
I have been feeling great pain wise until today. Hard to move my left arm easy and I am limping hard. Plus I am out of medication because I thought I was needing less and less. Suddenly... WHAM!!! Big pain.
Well... Not "the" last night but the last night I could conceivably have out on the town here in Sactown. (Sacramento, Stephanie)
On 10/31 I officially move out of the house. It is kind of scary but it is a new beginning. Just picking up from a town that I have lived a significant portion of my life in. The last 9.5 years anyway. No more doing what I did... running down the street to a Midtown bar, close enough to walk if your tipsy, close enough to drive if you want to chance it and never more than 6 bucks in a cab away.
I out grew the life I had when I first got married down here. I had my infamous rock band thing. I was in a band for the first 2 years I lived down here. We were called Perception. I was the lead guitar and vocalist of the group. I had a killer drummer and a bass player who only wanted to riff off of one chord. We were a jam band. We sounded like a cross between The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Primus and the Red Hot Chili Peppers... At least that was what each member contributed. I rocked a few bars the two years we were together. We could really jam. The vocals were a challenge over the bass player. I felt like I screamed most of the time anyway. We did some cool covers of Come Together and Hey Joe plus some cool original tunes. Sometimes we sounded tight and others we sounded God Awful.
I came back tonight with Elijah. I had gone to set up the electricity and gas at the new place and try to pick whether I want to stick with DirecTV or switch the Comcast. I want to pick what the right thing is for the price. I really like direct TV. I came back thought with a text page. A page from a buddy who lives near where I am moving saying, "Dude... Sake Bomb's at the Stone Grill". I was like an hour late to the text page but I was like, "Ya... still there???" He was and I ran over and had a beer and some Crown on the rocks. It was just fun.. acting like a 30 something, yelling in a bar for an hour or so. Kind of gets it out of your system.
I am moving back "home". It is not..."home". I don't have a "home". My parents live a couple of miles away. I found a cool house with decent rent and really cool appliances, granite counter tops, gas fire place... the works... on about an acre of land. It is a bit big but it felt like a "home" when I walked it. When I stared off the deck to the ravine separating the houses across the way, I remembered when I was 15 climbing over that hill where the house is perched now, when there was nothing, I mean... Nothing there at all. In that ravine there was the remains of a cow. All was left were bones. Just a skeleton of a cow that hide died down in the ravine. I remember the image of how white the bones where. How the cow was picked clean of it's flesh and skin. No organs... nothing. Probably not dead too long either because there were hardly any flies... I remember rolling up on my bike about 15 feet away. No smell... just almost a cartoonish white of the bones like the cow was brushed clean with Rembrandts or something. And that is what I am calling home this time. A place where I was "picked clean" once before...
I never really have been lost as a person. When I moved to that area, 21 years ago, I moved thinking there was a new world. I had come from an area that was over populated. San Francisco-suburb. Full of diversity and people. People everywhere. Houses built 10 feet apart. You could put your ear against my bedroom wall and hear my Nicaraguan neighbors fighting out loud at night. It used to scare me when I was 5 or 6 when I new what was going on. But I moved out of there when I was 14. I never got to come of age in my birth home. Just lived until the most awkward time of my life... 14. Right in the middle of 8th grade.
I went from a city of 100,000 to a city of barely 200. No cement for my Santa Cruz Skateboard, stage V independent trucks or Slimeball wheels. No hills. No curbs... dirt, rocks and more dirt and rocks. Hot, Hot, Hot summers and moderately chilly mornings. Rattlesnakes... I went from being a punk hanging out at the 7/11 who ollied his skateboard over bikes for quarters to shooting a bow and arrow and wrapping my life around my music because I was so fucking bored in Calaveras County.
I went to school where I was hated within 45 minutes of being in the new school. I stumbled over someone's foot walking across the gym in 2nd period PE because I had tweaked and had my knee drained a week earlier from a skateboarding accident. Having enemies off the bat, and then when they heard I was from San Francisco... wow... that did me in at 14. It seemed every week I was in a fight. Everyday I was punching and fighting back. This happened all the way through until late in my junior year when they just gave up picking on me... and just ignored me. I had my plan though. I had developed a talent. I plotted my way through school, checking off required classes with A's and B's so I could get into that 4 year school on my smarts and talent alone. So when I did walk out of high school, I could do so with my nose in the air and my fist raised high, and a big "fuck you" smirk on my face when I signed my name to a $10K annual music scholarship to UOP.
I was humbled a bit. Someone stopped me long enough to tell me to see the forest for the trees. To go at this world kindly and forget what the past told me to think. For some reason... it may have taken me 14-15 years to get it right. Perhaps it is right now... Who knows? But then I think of Dave Matthews when he sang...
Eat drink and be merry... for tomorrow we're dying
So... what's next? No idea. I moved to where I felt I would be most comfortable and not where I felt I would like it the most. I will be 45 minutes from Elijah and know that everyday I put my head on the pillow, unless of course... he is with me. He is always with me. I cherish the times I am with him each time we are together. I like showing him the areas I would throw rocks around my parents house or where I would explore or where I would climb next. I think about him every moment these days, even while I work. I don't do my job for myself. I do it for him and him first. People can say what they want about Elijah and my relationship with him. But really, they just don't know like I do. They don't see me with him. They don't see him running with me. They don't see me wrestling with him. Or consoling him when he is hurt... getting him a cookie when he is being good and watching Elmo curled up next to the TV with him. Somedays, people might think he is what broke me and his mother up. I like to think now that he is what makes me who I am everyday. Who I aspire to be and who I want to be there for his every need.
It's a new chapter... A new story and a new adventure and a chance to dream again...
One is for envy and one just for spite The cuts in my heart, they show me your eyes Don't make it better by twisting knife, Turns all by itself, on to someone else
Your self-liberation, we'll leave this behind, Beyond slings and arrows that rain on our minds You'll make it better shaking it off It never mattered anyway...
If we don't make it alive, it's a hell of a good day to die All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long And it's ashes to ashes again, should we even try to pretend? All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long
The banner you're waving is burning and red It's blocking the sun light that shines overhead You against the world, diamonds and pearls, Voices inside you churn, watch the city burn
Your own liberation will leave them behind All the slings and arrows that rain on your mind, Don't make it better break it 'cause It never mattered anyway...
If we don't make it alive, it's a hell of a good day to die All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long And it's ashes to ashes again, should we even try to pretend? All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long
I won't calm down...
The banner you're waving is burning and red, You against the world, diamonds and pearls... It never mattered, mattered, Mattered anyway!
If we don't make it alive, well it's a hell of a good day to die All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long And it's ashes to ashes again, should we even try to pretend? All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long,
All our light that shines strong only lasts for so long!
At 12 yesterday... I get a call from daycare... Elijah has a high fever. And we all know what happens when Elijah has a high fever... and we all remember the first time.
So at 12:10... I am at day care and he is having a seizure. Eyes rolled back... stiff... burning up... shaking. (If you want to see one is like go here...)
We're pros at this now but dude... c'mon! Enough already.
The daycare ladies were very concerned and visibly shaken with this as I would expect. I walked in... like it was no biggie... been there, done that... got the t-shirt. I sat until with Elijah for around 5 minutes while we waited for the ambulance, trying to cool him off, and bring him back to awareness. It took a bit but he came back.
The firemen were totally cool. DW showed up at the same time. She's a teacher at a school around the corner and as she was leaving school she saw the fire truck racing by knowing it was for Elijah. The ambulance came and I hopped in with Elijah and we rode in the "big truck" 15 minutes to our hospital. No sirens... Elijah was awake and fine but really scared obviously with all of the stickers and shit they connect up to you to get vital signs.
We got into the emergency room around 1 pm, where we spent the remainder of the day and evening visiting with the sick and hurt people that rushed by. The hospital is under construction so they had to remove like 12 beds into the hallway, so Elijah got the spot in the hall with a lot of traffic.
The shit they did to the poor guy. IV's... Blood draws... the catheter attempt to get urine (YEEEOUCH!!!... I did not watch!!) Hours and hours of observation by the staff went by. We got to visit with lots of nurses and people there for treatments. Some were pretty sad situations to witness, like the 90 year old man with heart trouble or the kid with food poisoning (must have been tomatos!!). Oh and Lawryde... there was this dude there with his elderly mother who looked just like Hunter S Thompson who kept reading and writing shit in his book. He was kind of an asshole too which I thought was cool.
I hate to say it... But I love people watching. I don't stare at sick people, that is wrong. I more or less stare and observe the patient's families walking in and out. When they bring flowers... or when they express laughter or consult with each other. Like outside in the waiting area... Oh my God... there must have been this Middle Eastern patriarch that was sick or something because dude... there were like at least 100 family members there... all really well dressed. You wonder what the sick or injured person is like to have that much of a family come to a hospital.
I am digressing...
Elijah is fine... No idea what caused the temp spike. Febrile seizures are "normal" even though they happen in 2-5% of the kids in the US. Why is 2 to 5 out of 100 considered normal? 2-5 out of 100 is like the number of three point shots made in Shaquille O'neal attempted so far in his career. If you hit 2-5 out of 100 shots on goal with your hockey team, your coach is gonna get pissed at you if you don't pass!!! (Can you image having a hockey rink in your basement?) 2-5 out of 100 is not normal.... But when I use "the Google", other sites on "internets" are telling me it is normal... Like wikipedia... which could be edited by any sick individual who wants to spread disinformation about something. (Snipe... Bring It On)
Anyhow... I have to make a run after lunch back to the doctor with Elijah so we know for sure he is just fine and not just acting like a 2 year old for the hell of it. Daddy... and Mommy for that matter were in pain sitting there holding Elijah all afternoon and evening. Mommy got some of Daddy's pain medicine when she got home. I hurt so bad I fell down last night.
Daycare people are so nice... they called to check on him last night to make sure he was okay. I took him in to get his shoes this morning so they could all see him alive and well.
Uggh... is it Friday yet!! Slammed out 20 hours already this week. I am tired.
Cool thing happened Sunday. I am having dinner with my Mom and Dad, brother and sister in law and my son Elijah. We are sitting there doing what we usually do... rip on my mom. And everyone is laughing and having a good time...
Elijah, laughing and smiling and rocking back and forth with his spoon, eating his potatoes, looks over at my mom and points at me and says quite clearly and precisely, "That's my Dad!"
No one is there... Elijah has the whole thing to himself. So what does he do first? Runs to the swings... Once he was done he ran back to the slides. So I just followed him watching to make sure he doesn't fall through one of those gaping holes they have about 5 feet up. Tan bark is soft but dude... Any OSHA compliance?
Then three older kids show up with their mom... And they just pound the slide... I had to shield Elijah from these kids so he didn't get knocked over. These kids reminded me of a ringer playing on a C-League Hockey Team. Kids just that since they where bigger and better than little Elijah, they felt they could beat him at "slide".
Sidenote: If some of you have been following along on this blog since November of 2004, you realize by now, that I am a class A ASSHOLE!!! I am the biggest jerk you will ever ever meet, when I want to be. 9 year old kids not withstanding...
So how could I win, get them back and continue to nourish and lovingly enjoy Elijah's playtime as he explores the world of amazement at the local park? Well, I am 5 foot 11, 185 pound blockade... that is what.
You want to enter through the fun crawl space? Not when I am standing in front of it, watching Elijah climb each stair shouting, "Up! Up! Up!" as he makes his way to the big slide.
Wanna climb up the big slide the wrong way so my son cannot go down? "Excuse me please, Excuse me PLEASE!!!" Loud enough so your mom that is more into her girlfriend on the phone, hears and gets annoyed and she has to come pull your sorry little asses off the slide and threaten to take you home.
Then there is the 7 year old that asks why Elijah is wearing a diaper. "Why is he wearing a diaper?"
"Because he has to.."
"Why?"
"Because he is a baby.."
"Why?"
"Because he is only a year and a half old"
"Why?"
"Because he and his mommy conceived him sometime in November of 2005..."
"Why... What's conceived?"
At this point, I tell the kid to shut up and play.... Jesus Christ...
Then I cannot get to Elijah fast enough and the dirty little kids try to help him by dragging him by the arm.. 15 seconds of that was too much.
There is some bad parenting in this world and I am glad I am not going to be one of them...
I took Elijah for a walk tonight. He has this little monkey backpack with a leash. It is so funny pulling this thing out. He loves being on the leash.
I took him down the front steps and basically said, "Where do you want to go?" He just took off... I followed letting him walk. Keeping him from the street... or from sticking his fingers through the fence to touch the yapping dog behind us.
He stopped to greet the neighbor... I think he called him Samuel... which is funny.
We walked a few blocks. Elijah is a little short so we has fun climbing the curbs.
He later found a stick. The dude loves sticks... He swings them around and loves to hit cars so I have to block him from hitting cars. I am considerate of other's paint jobs on their cars.
So I was watching him walk... and he goes down one block partially and then suddenly wants to go back the other way. Okay... so he went to the corner and turned. Where was he going?
We walked down the next street to the middle of the block. We ran into a couple with a baby. The baby was like 3 inches taller than Elijah. I was like oh my god. Yet she wasn't walking yet. She was 6 months younger than Elijah. She was intrigued by him. I kept laughing and she would mimic me. The parents just thought Elijah was so cute. Elijah just stood looking at the baby. I think he made a friend...
We moved on after 5 minutes and I suddenly figured out where Elijah was leading me too. The Park... he knew exactly how to get those 6 blocks with turns down the street.
It is amazing how right now you can almost have a conversation with him and he is pulling all this really smart stuff like leading me to the park.
He realized though it was dark and wanted to head back... Of course he wanted to be carried so I held him up... 23 pounds and chronic pain... I was numb when I got back.... But I could have walked another hour with him in my arms.
I spent the weekend with Elijah at my mom and dad's. What a weekend, especially with the seizure and all. Every doctor and everything I read tells me that febrile seizures are not uncommon and that kids grow out of them but dude... freak... me ... out! Holy Shit... I never got to rest like I planned too. I figured, I'd have him down there... he'd run around... Oma and Opa would be playing with him and I could chill for an hour or two on Sunday morning sleeping in or something...
My parents moved me from a big city with hundreds of thousands of people to this desolate little town of 200 people when I was 14. This ironically was the first night I have spent in there has in roughly 9-10 years. Wow!! Things I forgot. I stayed in my old room on the top floor. This was a cool room because it was the highest room in the house and I had my own bathroom. It was really private but I was probably stuck up there for my Baritone Horn/Tuba playing I was doing back in high school and college. I don't know what I sounded like downstairs but I was stuck up there for a purpose with all the practicing. It must have been loud. I wasn't liked so much in the beginning when we first moved there. Music became my refuge... my outlet... I'd blow those horns to make them sound like nothing else before. There is an feeling of peacefulness when I walk into that room... A box of my old hot wheel cars was outside the attack door that the other grand kids have played with over the years. I browsed through them to see if my two favorites where in there: Porsches... a white and a black one. Both RS's I believe...
To this day, my parents house does not have central heat and air. I was reminded of this this weekend. It was chilly yesterday afternoon so the house was cool. My parents are experts at building fires and accumulating firewood for their stove. They had a nice roaring fire going when I got in from the hospital. It was nice...
But I was reminded of how really out of civilization they are. Their internet speed blazes along at a whopping 31.2 kbps on dial up. Satellite TV is a new concept and they seem like they "just got it". My cellphone had faster internet speeds to see this blog, check email, etc. It is just so backwards to me. I can walk down the street with my iPod and pick up an open WiFi here in Sactown to check my email but out there... nothing. The nearest neighbor is a close 300 yards away. Everything is just far away as far as convenience. I left Elijah at 7pm Saturday night to run 15 miles up the road to Starbucks so I could be on the internet at a decent speed to collect all my work stuff. Posting my blog yesterday was a chore, watching my mom's computer, which has a decent amount of speed, try to upload text to blogger.
But spending the night in my old room was odd, especially with Elijah. The bed was in the wrong spot... It used to be over by the other wall and I was reminded why at 5:45 when the sun came up. The room is also bigger than any single room in this house which also shocked me because I felt it was so small growing up. The smells though, were the same. That house never smelled like my first home, there is always a smell there to me that seems to remind me when I am there that I am only visiting. Same smell I smelled 20 years ago at 14.
Then there was the bathroom. This huge bathroom with a toilet in the middle of the room. You feel really isolated and almost naked doing your business there. The cool thing though about this toilet though is when you are taking a leak, you can see the lake. But I think the shocking thing was the mirrors in the room. For the 8 years I lived there until I finally moved out (the 3rd time...LOL) I entered that bathroom every day. Nothing has changed. The fittings, the mirrors and the sinks. But the mirrors... so many times I had looked at myself in these two huge mirrors to shave or brush my teeth or something. What was weird is that you have this memory of yourself and these mirrors and what you looked like in them in the frames and how much different I look now 20 years later. I didn't seem to age so much those first 8 years but the last 12... sort of took it's toll I guess.
I forgot how many clocks made noise in their house. 11 o'clock.. tick tock... I thought all night long as Elijah gasped through his snotty nose while laying on my chest all night upstairs. I didn't sleep much but it was very peaceful for me to hold Elijah like that for me last night. I love my little boy, far beyond my own imagination...
It was nice to have my mom make pancakes this morning. She just bragged the whole time how she doesn't make pancakes or breakfast for my dad anymore but the cupboards are lined with Bisquick. My poor mom though, she always tries to reconcile and/or revise history for the sake of her own sanity. All the same stories I had heard hundreds of times I had heard again this weekend. I kept having to either finish them for her or cut her off because I felt they were stupid and had no point. I guess I am mean for doing that but my mom I think never wanted to live there. My mom and dad are great. Been together going on 43 years now. Pretty much perfect raising us and stuff. But something about being out there always bugs my mom. It always relates to the vastness of the yard which used to be 10 acres until they sold 5 a few years back. It's the lack of everything out there, like trees at first (my dad took care of that) or the lack of the neighborhood comfort you might get living in a city. My mom was always a suburbanite... I think I put my finger on it finally. She is forever lonely out there without actually being alone. Puzzling if you think about it? To my dad though... living there is Mecca. Give him his trees, his garden and his tractor and he'll never stop moving. No matter driving 40 minutes to work each way. He doesn't care. The weather is great most of the year and he's got his stuff to take care of. We took Elijah out on the tractor. Totally unsure but I bet the next time he sees the tractor he'll want a ride. My dad has only 200 hours in 20 years on that tractor, 100 of which are for driving the grand kids around.
I left at 4 o'clock today. Elijah's rough weekend was made easier though even though I was immensely stressed out. Never got to shut the switch off this weekend and I got a rough start in the morning... I gotta make the time to take care of myself...
So I took Elijah out to the country to spend the night with Oma and Opa. He has this little cold that I talked about yesterday, where he "faked" mom into leaving him home.
This morning I had got him some kiddie Sudafed type liquid medicine at Walmart when we went out for our Saturday morning latte, pastry and car wash. So we gave him a dose this morning and I gave him another at 1 when I got to Oma's. The left to VS for some soy milk.
10 minutes later... as I am heading into town... I hear Elijah coughing... but it was a weird cough... I look in the rear view: Eyes rolled up back into his head, white foam coming out of his mouth... convulsants...
Shit I thought... What a run! Between the roof collapsing from the rat chewed pipe, the storm blowing glass onto the Porsche, the storm window being blown out... the fence... the cat making a repeat trip to the vet for the asthmar, the electrician... now this.
So I called home yelling at the answering machine until DW picked up. Then since I was right there... I ran into the fire dept. driveway. No one there?!?! WTF? Elijah "looked normal" as opposed to the blue color he turned during the last seizure. Still not acknowledging me. I had him up in his car seat. I stood up scratching my head... Fire station... paramedic ambulance right there (like 300 yards away), where are these people? Fuck it... 911
Then suddenly, paramedics came in like a minute, the garage doors open to the fire dept and I had like 15 dudes checking out the Porsche and my son in his seat. Elijah was just hot. I had pulled clothes off and assisted the paramedics strapping oxygen to him. In all...12-14 minutes, Elijah came out of it. Never cried. Just had a look on his face like, "Hey fire trucks!!" They gave him a stuffed dinosaur and I signed my life away. We were 15 miles from the hospital so I chose to drive up myself.
I took him in and waited. He was real hot. They checked his vitals and his temp was 102. Wow... a kid who was throwing rocks at the house, wicked sick minutes later was just too crazy. I had of course was in a minor state of panic but felt stable when I took him into the emergency room. They took care of him. Motrin to bring down the temp. Chest x ray. They gave him Benedryl to decongest him.
Basically... the doctor thought the Sudafed crap accellerated his body temp and that chance again for another febrile seizure. He'll grow out of it eventually but...wow!!!
What's next?
He's sleeping on the couch... peacefully... Poor little guy. Rough day.
Elijah "faked" being sick so I got him home alone. I did it. I survived. He napped for two hours. We went to the park. He ran up and punched a kid in the face who was being an ass. The kid deserved it. He was 10. I mean it was a closed fist, which is a new thing this week. Right to the cheek.
He didn't drop a deuce.... (yet...)
The above video is the funniest thing I have seen in a long time. Enjoy.
My left arm has been feeling weird the last few days. It's not pain necessarily it is weakness and a vibrating that peaks in my forearm but really goes from my finger tips to my neck. It's that feeling you have just after you shook the pins and needles out of your leg or something when it falls asleep. It's the end of the pins and needles, that cold kinda of dark, weak feeling. When I was in Denver the other day I got out of a car that I had been driving in for a few minutes and I headed into the restaurant. I sort of fell to a hand rail on my left. I felt all week. I just fell. Kind of weird, especially when every disease that cause that I have been tested for; all negative tests I might add. WTF?
Watching Green Bay and Seattle play football while I work mad finishing some reports for work. I gotta lot of shit to get done for people. I just keep plugging away though. I thought I would take a break and do some typing.
Funny story regarding Elijah this morning. I took him out for coffee like I always do on the weekends. He is getting so good at walking so I let him down to follow me into Peet's Coffee. It's a long sidewalk to the store so he is totally safe. And he loves to just walk so we walk slowly to the store.
So we head in and I hold the door. We walk to the counter and I order my Latte and a Cinnamon roll. Elijah loves it! He stays close and we walk to sit while the coffee is being made. I sit down in a chair at a small round table and Elijah climbs up and sits down like me at the table. I notice this dude and his woman with their kid sitting and enjoying coffee. The dude looks at me all inquisitive and shit.
"Hey..." he says, "How old is your son?"
I am shocked because Elijah is usually confused as being my daughter because he is such a pretty boy.
"Um...17 months?" I say...
"Wow...", he says, "I wish my son can do that. My son is over 2 years old and we have to help him do everything."
"That sucks, "I say, and I just turned and handed Elijah a piece of the roll. Not paying attention to that family the rest of the time. I showed another cool trick. I left Elijah in his seat and walked the 5 feet away to get my coffee. Elijah sat smiling and eating his cinnamon roll.
This is actually part two... Part one isn't as funny... If I sound like I had a massive cold... I did. All the stuff is out of the room when I did the floor. It's funny and Elijah is great.
Yeah... Elijah loves Opa and Oma's house now. Now since he has discovered the sheer pleasure of burning piles of brush. The sinister laugh and exciting applause he wailed as he danced in the smoke was a key sign that he was having the bestest time:
Here's some more great fun as Opa burned more leaves and twigs from the Eucalyptus pile. It was cool man... He had a cool day running out on the "farm". (LOL Calaveras Country... a farm, heh heh)
A distant shot of Elijah with his newfound bestest friend Opa. Next time he wants a ride on the tractor.
This post revisits many of my more famous themes from posts like, The Starbucks line, Verbal Assaults in parking lots regarding my choice of vehicle and my personal favorite Elijah.
Okay... so last night, the first night in say, 3 weeks that I went to sleep at a normal hour on my own power... only to wake up at 2:30AM. I put on CNN on sling box on my laptop so I can bore myself back to sleep. Nothing more boring than an early morning Lou Dobbs replay. The reality is though, I turned on Fox so I can anticipate the big Mitt Romney speech and learn more about the crazy fuck with the AK-47 in Omaha. (I guess if you leave all the pieces in close proximity, a kid will grab a gun and go to town... So sad this kind of stuff happens). I went back to sleep at 3 and woke up at 7 when I heard the doors slam.
Anyhow fast forward to reality... I got out of bed at 8 forgetting DW was taking the day off to relax. It's actually cool because I got to take the Cayenne to Starbucks for a cup of my liquid elixir. So I roll in and just like a movie, there was a parking spot right in front. I always call that spot the "movie spot" because when a car rolls up on a business in a movie they always get to park in front. You never get to see them run in the rain across the parking lot, dodging cars and splashing through puddles.
My cell rings and it's Elijah's day care. The nice lady there is asking me to come by and look at Elijah's finger. He somehow got it caught in a door. It sounded a hell of a lot worse than it was. I think it scared him more than it hurt. But I am the emergency contact during the week so I figured I just head into Starbucks and then head over to day care.
Fat chance...
When I opened the door of the Porsche to get out there was rather large woman standing in front of the Porsche. I gave her the,"Do I like generous? I don't have any money!" look. She goes, "I CAN'T GET IN MY CAR!!!" So I humor her... "Why?"
She's like..."You parked to close to my car..."
Thinking of Elijah... Do I say sorry? Do I ignore her? Do I say sucks to be you?
No actually, I go assess the situation because I clearly was well within my line. Sure enough I walk over to the passenger side and her tires are on the line and I am good, Teeny-arm's-widespread distance from her door. I mean... I know people larger than her who could have gotten in. I am not being mean, unreasonable or nasty. There was space. She did not want to attempt it for some reason. It is a tight, urban, downtown parking lot off of Broadway.
She goes..."I can wait for you to get your coffee."
Ah... I struck fear into her... Was it my attitude? My stern, internal dickhead approach to life?
"No...", I say..."My son is hurt at daycare... And all those cooks from the Chinese restaurant are getting their coffee. Look at the line. I'd be wasting more of your time. I am gonna just run and see my son, that's why I was on the phone."
I got back in and sped off. I was pissed the whole time to day care. Why did I let my guard down and not be a jerk on this one? Must be my Christmas spirit.
Elijah was fine. Definitely not a happy camper... Poor little guy. I went back to Starbucks after seeing Elijah.
Do not buy the Ginger Bread slice at Starbucks. It tastes like ass.
