Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Staying Hydrated

This... Is how I feel.  I scoffed at folks who assured me that I would need to find my sleep.  Like Captain Jack Sparrow searched for gold, like Doctor Who searched for companions, like Enterprise searched for new life, and new civilizations.

Surely my son who was rocking out an awesome schedule proudly, like a teenager proudly displays the new tattoo under his sleeve hidden from his parents, wouldn't cause me or Mrs. Awesome any trouble.

Surely, we were special...

Surely, we were different.

Well, we're not... we're really not.

Little Awesome has certainly been awesome in the "Look how much formula I can guzzle" department.  Or the ever popular, "Abstract wall painting with my own pee" has a nice distinguished vibe to it.  Or perhaps he watched "The Voice" one too many times and thought, "Louder surely must be better."

Don't get the wrong idea. I am, and always will be a silver lining kind of guy.  I find it great that the panic attacks are subsiding when I pick up my son.  Slightly ever more confident that his neck isn't going to snap like a dry twig.  I can't carry that burden that I've caused some irreparable harm to my son, and not to mention that the grainy videos that play in my brain of countless scenarios of how I would be the catalyst that my son would lose a finger or scar or whatever.  I am thankful that the video library in my head is drastically reducing in size each day.  Feeding shmeeding, I got this.

I'm taking comfort in the everyday "awesome" stuff that would otherwise not get noticed.  I'm thankful for my ability to help my bride in the home as much as I can.  Doing laundry, fixing bottles, catering to the ever increasing needs of our spoiled dogs.

In the moments when we're both tired and frazzled because Little Awesome has been up teaching Death Metal Bands from Norway how to scream, there comes a moment when he makes a different sound, or stretches a different way than he did yesterday, that I'm reminded that it's only been two weeks.  Every day is new to him and every little movement, or sound, or today's bout of gas is different than yesterday.  He's hoping that in some way, we will help him figure it out.  That even though he can't talk, and we don't understand what he's saying - he doesn't understand "English" either... He just might understand patience, understanding, and love.