Middle Aged and Out to Eat

As a child I remember going out to dinner and sitting in the booth or at the table and watching the other people who were eating dinner. I am not talking about the 2 year old staring at the guy cleaning his false teeth. I am talking about just seeing and observing "normal" people eating dinner.

I would sit and wonder who they were and why the groups of people were together. I was looking at them as a mix of adults and children or just a group of adults. What I would try to figure out was what the relationships was between people. Most often I figured that the were a group of friends out with their family. It did not cross my mind that they were brothers and sisters spending time together. I also remember feeling sad watching people eating alone, I still do.

Growing up we did not do that kind of things with family. The one time I remember eating out with extended family, and I was not even there! It was the time my youngest sister was out to dinner with my other sister, mother, and "famous" great uncle and her getting sick at the table.

My father's brother and sister were 20 years older than him and we never or rarely got together with them for meals let alone going out to eat. My mother was an only child and did thing rarely with her cousins.

It never occurred to me that those "old"people could be brothers and sister enjoying time together.

It occurred to me this last Saturday night that I was one of those "old" people and the people I choose to eat out with are my sisters and their families. I was reminded of those time as a child looking around and wondering who those people were. I also realized that I truly enjoy the company of my sisters and their families. I think I knew this before but on Saturday it became embedded in me in a way I have not felt a truth in a long time.

I could not help but wonder what Son was thinking as he observed our table and the other tables. All I know is that I still watch the world around me and try to figure out the relationship are between people. I felt like I did as a child.

I guess that is why it hit me that we were one of those a groups of people eating out I remember as a child and I still felt like I should be sitting in my child seat watching and wondering.

Under Estimating Children

One of the things I have to keep reminding myself about children is that they are often smarter than adults. Whether it is getting us to do something or give them something they want or just going ahead and doing it themselves, children are often two steps ahead.

This might be because they have little else on their minds except to learn and explore. One of the reasons I think time appears to go by faster as we get older is because we have the “been there done that” attitude for most of the world around us. As a child we spent time looking at the grass and bugs or watching the clouds go by. As adult we might look at the clouds and spends as much time as a child but our minds grasp clouds and make determination if it is going to rain or not, without seeing the “bird” or “tree” that children observe. Time for children is slower because they are anticipating what might be, instead of making assumptions as to what is.

I know, I know - a person's own child always is the smartest, cutest and most amazing child that ever lived. They have to be that in our minds so we can handle the brain dead things they do as teenagers or adults.

That said I have to share with you some of the things Son has done to bring me back to appreciation of what might be, instead of assuming what is. Son is 2 years 5 months old:

While sitting at the dinner table staring at a pile of Banana slices, anticipating not eating them, he line them up in a row counting each one with a tone saying “ I am not eating that one 1, I am not eating that one 2 ....“

After coming down the stairs in the morning he ran to the refrigerator and with open arms as if giving a blessing, saying “ red, red, Red.” The red light, that signaled locked or unlocked, on the in the door ice and water was off. He keeps saying this until the lock is put back on and the red light appears.

Last night at dinner I asked him what he wanted for dinner after he had eaten all the things I had given him. He said “Mickey mouse” (he is not much of a meat eater but if he wanted a mouse --)so we went though pretty much every box in the pantry asking if this is what he wanted. With the response of “Noooooooo,” that relayed the tone of "you stupid man." That is until I got to the box of crackers that has a picture of Goofy on the back and he says “Yes please.”

I wish I could be that observant, enjoy time as it passes slowly instead of assuming many things and then wonder where the time went. Like the time I spent writing this blog.

The Wheeze from Above

Last night a little while after I went to bed, as I laid awake feeling bloated from all the fat and carbs I had eaten that day. Repeatedly asking myself when do I do this to myself. The this being, over eating to the point where sleep is uncomfortable and accumulating enough gas to let loose burbs that could pass for a fog horn.

As I laid there feeling like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloon, I heard over the baby monitor Son wheezing. Which in my book is not a good thing. Son had been coughing for the last couple days. So much so, with so much repatriation, that we were able to teach him to cover his mouth when he coughs, which he now does about 80% of the time. The other 20% is usually right in my face.

Hearing the wheezing my mind went to ronchi and rales. Son had a fever yesterday, along with the cough. My mind raced to pneumonia. In my carb and fat addled mind all I could thing to do was wake up Dr. Wife (who had been asleep since 8pm, it is know around midnight.)

I ask, "Is that wheezing coming from Son?"

She responds, "Yes it is he'll be fine."

I respond, "If I remember right wheezing is not good."

She then tells me that we have some albuterol left over from last time and if I want to I could give him a treatment, but that to do so I would have to go to Sister's to get the nebulizer. Even in my carb addled state I clearly did not want to wake up Sister and Brother-in-Law, who had been up Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning putting together presents with many small pieces for niece and nephew.

I was not present the first and last time, when son needed breathing treatment, so I then asked if we had nebulizing cup and tubing. If we did, I thought I rig one of the CPAP's up to the bubbler and give Son a treatment. You see we have a O2 set up for Wife's CPAP from when she was in the hospital. I thought I could reverse the direction of the flow.

You might ask why I though I could rig this set up. The answer is that while I was a paramedic (in my youth) I spent one of those five years as a respiratory therapist. This was in the old'en days when equipment was not as specialized as today and there was times at 3 am when we had to figure out ways to get equipment to work in different ways than designed to deliver the an ordered therapy.

All that said, we did not have a bubbler or for that matter one of those face moisturizing machines (it would have worked.) When I am bloated on carbs my mind does not stop and it functions in odd ways.

After I realized there was no way to deliver the albuterol, I brought Son down to sleep with us. That action just insures that none of us would get any sleep. After half an hour I took Son back to his bed.

This morning I took Son to Wife's clinic to have one of her colleagues check him over and tells us what we already knew. Of course, he didn't have temp this morning - but he was still wheezing.

He order a machine for us to use. Son and I got home a little while ago and I gave him a treatment. He did not like the process but he did get a good dose of meds. It is amazing how deep a child breaths when crying. He is now sleeping, the first good sleep in two days.

Now if I could find a treatment that keep me away from carbs and fats, I could sleep as well.

Saturday Afternoon Semi-Sunshine

While visiting Laughing Pastor family for the holidays I got to experience a quintessential Texas event. I went to a high school football playoff game. Laughing Son was on the JV team this year and was elevated to the varsity team after the JV season ended. He has gotten to suit up for games before but had only a very slight chance to play. But since his team was playing one of the traditional power teams of Texas in this game there was a chance they would get blown out and he might get to play as the other team mopped up.

Not only was this playoff game being played in Texas but is was to be played in a professional football stadium. There was good crowd for his game but nothing like the 50,000 fans that came the day before, but still there had to be at least 10,000 present.

When we got there the game before ours (yes I was an obsessive fan I claimed ownership as if I was going to run onto the field) was a scoring match between two passing teams. It was still the third quarter when we got there. As we sat in the end zone, not knowing which side "Our" team was going to be on, I got a chance to observe this phenomenon with a little distance. The first thing I saw was the Worst team mascot I had ever witnessed and that is saying a lot, In high school we played a team that had a giant size Cuppie Doll as a mascot.

This thing was supposed to be an Bird but it look like Barny Rubble! It did not walk or run it kind of weebled. This running Bird Rubble had to run the length of the field every time it's team scored, and they scored a number of times, the team had 8 touchdowns in the game. That had to be one tired mascot by the end. I watched transfixed each time they scored as it run down the field making mental calculation determining how far it was going roll if it fell over. Would it roll the rest of the way down the field? If it falls over will it take out the flag bearer? Where are it's arms?

This was my first high school football game since my senior year in high school when my trumpet got bent while I was taken out by receiver trying to catch a pass at the end of the first half of the final game (No playoffs for my alma mater.) I enjoyed this one a whole lot more and I did not look a fool laying on the ground with my three foot high royal blue hat flying to the fifth or sixth rank of the band.

It was a good game. They did not get blown out. In fact they won on a field goal with no time left on the clock, by a freshman kicker. Who ran to the center of the professional football field to celebrate. I could tell even from fifteen rows back that he was living the dream of most young men who play sports. He made the wining play as time ran out, he was a football hero.

Needless to say Laughing Son did not get to play but he reassured me that next year he would be starting. Maybe next year he can make the sack that stops the other team from scoring on the final play.

Flying with the Family

This holiday I have had a first time experience. We traveled by air for the first as a family. Son had flown before but it was with Grandma to visit Wife when she was in the hospital on the coast. As most of you know, one of the benefits of traveling for work, I would say one of the very few, is collecting frequent flier miles and car rental days. We were able to plan this trip far enough ahead of time to take advantage of the miles and days on the same trip (some would say this is evidence that there are still miracles in our time.)

The night before we traveled we spent our time packing, that is after I had to go to a church meeting which was a 90 mile round trip. Since this is the first time flying with a two year old the amount of needed support equipment is incredible. I have seen rock bands with less road equipment.

In the morning, before we left for the airport, I walked into the kitchen and found Wife safety pinning a baggy with contact information to Son's back. If he had been wearing a blue hat and carrying a musket it would appear that he was heading into the civil war battle of the "Wilderness." When I saw this I blurted out something like you have got to be kidding. My thoughts were with that on his back we looked like amateur travelers and that would draw the attention to every pickpocket and thief. I did not want to find myself chasing a thief down the terminal because we look like an easy target. Wife gave me this hurt look and said to the effect her mother had put this information in their pockets as children and that she did not want to lose Son.

After we had gotten the bags checked and were heading to security I discovered a baggage tag taped to Son's back. I decided to not make an issue of the little soldier.

By the time we got to our destination airport after a 3 hour layover at a hub including a maintenance issue with the plane, I had one tired child and frustrated spouse. I just want to get in the rental van and to friends home.

Right know we are getting ready to be comatized by turkey and pumpkin pie. In three days we get to play this trip in reverse. I wonder if for this trip Son will have his name tag on the front of his shirt or in his pocket.