Day 506: Weeds Wielding Empty Beer Cans

I just lost my blog. AGAIN! I was about three quarters of the way through it, sitting as I am at my desk like a big boy, typing it out on the iMac, when suddenly the power went out and it got gonzo'd. Balls! It was a good entry too! Probably my best ever!! (I can say that now because you have no chance of reading it, making that statement impossible to prove). I've learned my lesson from years gone past and will not try to replicate the entry. It's too frustrating and takes far too long. Not to mention the fact that when I finish it I am invariably aware of how far off the mark the second attempt was from the first. 

No doubt I'll hit some of the same points, talking about my day as I was, but it won't be the same! 

So Blaze slept the entire night last night. I put him to bed at 9:45 and he didn’t get up until around the same time the next morning. I’ll withold too much excitement at this being potentially a ‘new world order’ as it could well have just been a perfect storm of sickness that wiped him out; just stuffy enough to be able to breath freely without choking for air every five minutes, but still sick and weak and groggy enough to sleep HARD because his body is trying to fight off whatever has him engaged in battle. 

We’ll see how tonight goes but at least for now we have reason to celebrate. 

It’s been a long road to get here but who knows, maybe we’ve turned a corner. He seems much better this morning, with much less snot drool running out of his nose. He still has a bit of a flem riddled cough, but as long as it’s loose and not causing sharpened shards to cut into his throat meat every time he coughs we’re on the right track and moving forward. Hopefully the next few days will see him back to his old self, which I would very much like to see, even if it means getting up a couple of times through the night to chill him out. 

I will say that the putting him to bed in his crib really didn’t take as long as everyone said. He was a little rough the first night, and still pretty upset the second night, but the last couple nights I’ve just rocked him a little after getting the handoff from Jeannette, and then slowly lowered him face down into the crib. By the time his face hits the mattress he’s out. I don’t know if it’s a good sign, that he falls asleep so easily when in the presense of his father -throughly discouraging considering his father happens to be an entertainer- but again, at this early point in his life whatever role I have to take on is what I will happily perform. 

Jeannette is feeling much better thanks for asking. She’s a tough bird, this one. There was no more puking yesterday, just the one time, in the bag that I neglected to clean up. After that she was a little naseous throughout the day but didn’t get sick again. She refuses to stay down this one. She’s like Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke, taking an ass kicking but refusing to just stay on the ground. I’ll have to help her with the idea of doing nothing, as it’s a form of non-action I perfected long ago. I don’t do it much anymore mind you, but when you’re body is struggling it’s a very important skill set to be able to call on; the ability to do absolutely NOTHING -save the usual cell death and reproduction that occurs to your body every nanosecond of your life. Jeannette, by the looks of it, has never been able to master it. 

I don’t get to lay around much anymore. Being a new parent will do that to you. Well, being a new parent will do that to you if you’re the type of person who wants to properly take care of your kids. Oh sure, we could plop young master Blaze down in front of the TV and then lay around on the couch all day, but is that really helpful for anyone?  

I suppose not everyone is convinced that actually attending to your child, aside from just the basic food, shelter and clothing, is something that needs to be done in equal measure to those fundamentals of life. I base that opinion on the amount of kids out there who don’t seem to have a clue as to how to operate in a civilized world. The me monsters out there, just roaming around waiting for the world to sort them out itself; and usually in quite painful fashion. 

From my point of view, a child is like a garden; which is already a dangerous metaphor to use considering how terrible of a gardener I am. Nevertheless, you either see them as mobile plant life that has to potential to grow up to be a majestic flower in adulthood, or a weed that does little but throw empty beer cans out the window of their rusted pick up truck and call everyone they see a ‘fag’. 

From my point of view those are your options. Option number one is the intended form of human. Option number two is a regression into a more 'jungle' form of animal. Both paths are equally walkable. The first one takes some effort on the part of the gardeners who first planted the seed. 

The flower requires the more work from the gardener. No question. Weeds will just shoot up on their own, stealing whatever light they need to steal at whatever cost to the plants around them. Weeds don’t give two shits about order and harmony. I know, my yard is currently full of them; both in small, plant form, and large, tree form. Those large trees are coming down of course, as my intrepid French woodsman continues his chainsaw wielding assault, and the smaller versions will be dealt with in short order as well.

Just as soon as I get the hang of the more important garden, which is currently downstairs playing with Amy on the living room floor. 

See, now all this made a lot more sense when I wrote it the first time around! Balls!

I’m at least convinced of one thing, that all our hard work with Blaze will make the next kid that slides down the life shoot much easier to deal with. Not ‘easy’ mind you, just ‘easier’; in the same way that the first few days and weeks of being in prison are going to very difficult on your person to say the least, what with the food issues, the roughness of polyester in those orange prison jumpsuits, the beatings, the stale air (list not framed in order of shock to the system)…  but by month ten you’ve gotten into some kind of a routine that you’re reasonably able to deal with and things aren’t all that bad. You’ve even found a glop of grease under the table in the kitchen that helps with the skin rash caused by your jumpsuit.

It's the same as having kids!!

You heard it here first guys; kids are like prison. 

Okay, not the precise idea I was going for, but you get the idea; no matter your situation in life, you either adapt or die. 

Anyway, that’s it for this entry. I’m bummed I lost the first one, as the weed/flower comparison was much more aptly done. But what are you going to do? Sometimes the lights go out. 

Today I’ll continue work on whatever the hell it is I do, with the hope that I’ll complete cartoon number two and post by tonight. 

Have a good one munks!

|mp

mp