Night Terrors & Helplessness

As I write this it’s Wednesday night.

Last night my son had his first “night terror.”

He’d sleep walked before, resulting in us simply re-directing him to his pallet of awesomeness bedness.

Only this time was different.

He’d spent the day dealing with a 104 temperature. We’d alternated Tylenol and Ibuprofin throughout the day keeping him at a solid 101 to 100.5 temp. Fluids were pumping and he slept like a champ.

Around 6 p.m. Chicago got beat-down by a strong band of storms that left us huddled in our basements waiting for the all-clear.

Then sleep came.

And all was calm and normal.

At 1:30ish a.m. I heard a bang!

I’m a light sleeper. A door could slam three blocks away and after many beers I’d still sit straight up trying to assess the situation.

I walked into the daughter’s room and found her slowly crawling into bed. She’d performed her nightly “I have my father’s genes and clumsily fall out of bed” routine and was recouping.

I checked on the boy who’d been dealing with a high fever all week. And he was burning up.

That’s when I made the parental rookie mistake.

I tried to wake him up enough to take his temperature and that’s when it happened!

His eyes opened.

Pupils as black as night and covering every millimeter of those amazing hazel eyes I’ve grown to cherish.

He looked at me as though I were the devil. His eyes pierced my sockets as though he could see through the back of my skull.

He kicked violently to get free of his covers as his arms shook and his voice quivered to find the words to say, “no….no…I’m OK…I’m OK..just give me a minute, I’m OK!!!!”

Still not registering for a second I believe he’s worried I’m going to give him shitty tasting medicine but it quickly becomes clear that’s nowhere near his concern.

I’m there to guide him to harm.

The wife walks in at this point and holds him tight only for him to wrestle free. Meanwhile I leave to go get a cold cloth to place on his head – an old trick I used to do when he was a baby to calm him back to sleep.

Only….

It was like placing hot coals on his skin.

He erupted in screams like someone was slowly stabbing him and we were the culprits.

Helplessness filled the eyes that I threw upon the wife in desperation for some type of guidance.

And I got nothing.

We were both trapped in this brand-new world of helplessness , together.

The last time I’d experienced it I was alone. I was watching the wife enter hour 3 of labor, trying her damndest to welcome into the world the very child we’re now comforting.

I then made the decision to call 911.

Five minutes later a policewoman showed up.

Her eyes darted throughout the house searching for wrong-doing, as she record our names, and our son’s names. My daughter was peeking out from under her security blanket as she huddled in the corner of the couch.

Upstairs my son had snapped-out of the terror and finally woken up.

By the time I’d reached the last step I could see his charm, whit, love of human interaction slowly winning the paramedics and policewoman over leaving me humbled and feeling like I’ve wasted valuable time.

I profusely apologized to the paramedics and police.

I hugged my son.

An hour after everyone left and we rested our heads on pillows again, the boy woke into yet another terror. Only, this time we knew better how to comfort him and work him through it until he finally put his head on his pillow going back to sleep.

I then spent the rest of the night with the wife making sure he never left our consciousness as we half-slept in shifts through the remaining 1.5 hours of night.

And when the sun rose I was on my back.

Thinking….

I’m so lucky.

I cannot imagine living the life of parents dealing with children inflicted with diseases, syndromes, etc… that keep them from living any type of life that could be considered normal.

I am humbled by them.

My heart aches for them.

And I’m thankful.

 

A Glimpse Into The "Woman Bible"

Last week I put my manhood on the chopping block and provided a small glimpse into the “Man Bible.”

I received a humbling and positive response from many of the married ladies out there for revealing the drive behind their loving husband’s caveman-like antics.

The only problem is the dudes out there were a bit outraged. I apparently broke a huge man-code by revealing this bound gaggle of typed words by which we live and breathe as men.

I was promptly informed by a “Man-Committee” that I had exactly five days to right my wrong.

So, I started racking my brain. I thought long and hard….

And that’s when it hit me!

If’ there’s a Man Bible…there’s GOT to be a Woman Bible.

I leapt from the toilet my thinking chair and immediately ran into the bedroom and began ransacking the wife’s dresser.

Bras, panties, pajamas, and barrettes all went flying in the air as I frantically searched. I found nothing.

I plowed through her jewelry, make-up, and lingerie. Nothing.

Then it hit me. She’d put it where I would never go in a million years.

In the box of Tampons!!

One minute later I had in my hand a small, pink book, smelling of perfume, tampons, and estrogen.

After giving two quick chest bumps to thank baby Jesus above, I threw myself to the floor to start tearing through it page by page.

So…in an effort to make things right in the world again. I give you snippets from the “Woman Bible:”

Page 33, Part C – When walking by your husband act as though he does not exist. DO NOT make eye contact or let him catch your eyes landing on ANY part of his body. Men can feel your sight and will immediately interpret any look as though you want to have sex right then and there.

If by accident you get caught looking at your husband immediately implement Page 743, Part A – Spontaneously having your period out of convenience.

Page 528, Part DD, Section 1,290,473 – At the end of the day you’re going to want to remove your bra to let “the girls” relax. Learn to do this without removing your shirt if your husband is near.

Regardless he will think the act of removing your bra means you want to have sex. However, keeping your shirt on through the process reduces his immediate erection and spastic lunge to mount you by 11.8%.

Page 1, Part A – You will spend the remaining time as a wife deflecting your husband’s hands from groping your breasts and buttocks. When your wife term is over you will be as skilled as a ninja warrior.

Page 69, Part T, Section 2 – It is extremely important that you consistently move things around the house so that YOU are the only one that knows where they are. While your husband will display extreme frustration with never knowing where anything is, it will reveal a calm, yet strong demand you have over the house.

Page 33 – Every naturally born woman has within her the ability to shrink a man’s testicles into pin-sized pellets with just one vicious look. This look CANNOT be taught. Know that it exists within you. Explore your inner self and you will one day find “the look.” You will know when you have found it…and so will your husband.

Page 189, Part F, Section 8 – Your boobs are magic. No matter how small or large they are, you will find they entice your husband to do many unwelcoming things. Bending over at the right time to pick something up revealing just enough boob will immediately drain blood from the husband’s brain leaving him senseless and unable to say “no.”

But be careful not to give it all away. Never let him see the entire boob…but just enough.

OK. That’s all I’m able to share.

However, for $199.99 an hour, endless amounts of Newcastle, and a letter from my wife promising to show me her whole boobs completely uncovered and I’ll gladly share with you the rest of the Woman Bible.

Just shoot me an email and we’ll make it happen!