Update 11 - cowboy grit

After lunch the little guy was so tired. He often refuses to nap. Not in a roll on the floor kicking and screaming way. His tactics are more subtle and refined. He will say things like, “oh I’m a big boy and I don’t take naps anymore,” and then turn his back to you and continue his activity. Today it was, “daddy I want to learn! It gives me energy!” We use an app called Duo Lingo ABC each day. I shared it with April and Wanda on Monday so we could continue his lessons. For obvious reasons he has spent more time on it this week than normal. The iPad and iPhone are addictive. He tried to bargain with me. Everything is a negotiation. It’s hard to say, “I don’t want you to learn!” So I told him that if he would take a nap for his energy today that we could go to the pool when he woke. He got excited and ran up the stairs with nana for a nap. 

Nana came down and said, “He is tired, but won’t stop singing.” I’ve seen this before. I pictured his eyes half rolled back in his head. His eyelids are heavy, but he resists the urge to close them and get rest. He is a fighter. Not a boxer, but a street fighter. He will do anything to win. I guess he gets that from me. I used to bite my cousins to get out of headlocks. His eyelashes are like fingernails scratching and clawing for something to cling to and turn the tide of the fight with sleep. 

I heard him singing, but couldn’t make out Tim he tune. He was singing, but the tune was broken and potentially a mashup of songs. He is delirious and needs to give up the fight. 

I walked up the stairs. My knees creaked and head pounded. I needed sleep too. I didn’t want to fight sleep. So I thought why not just show the little guy that big boys can take naps too.  I laid down in the bed with him. If sleep had him in a chokehold, he squirmed and wiggled until he found an angle to bite her. He found some energy. A second wind. We sang three more songs, I turned on some soft music, and we went to sleep.  

2 hours later, Carly came in and woke us up. Fielder’s Friends from school had heard of the crisis and brought food over for dinner. You never know who will show up to help even without asking. The supreme pizza from DePalmas was good. Fielder got a tiger pez dispenser and ate all the candy. I guess he stress eats candy. Maybe he gets that from Carly. Jk. 

We finished dinner and then went to the pool. Fielder loves to swim. He loves life and experiences and always wants to share them with other people. We have four tickets at the Braves stadium. I’m sad we can’t share baseball with anyone right now. 

At the travel ball game a few weeks ago I learned more than just about the rigors of taxi-ing kids all over the place. I learned to be a detective. When we were walking back from the snow cone stand a nice lady said hello. She had sunglasses and a ball cap pulled down to shade her from the sun. It was hot, about 11:00 am. I had on a massive straw hat. Fielder was white from the copious amounts of sunscreen. I knew her, but I wasn’t sure from where. I cut myself some slack and set about using context clues to solve the case. I wanted to say hello and talk. Covid has taken away this avenue of mine and since the shelter in place had been lifted I was anxious for more human interaction. 

I studied the case. She had three children. A boy 9 playing ball. A girl who looked 5 maybe 6, and a boy maybe 2. The two year old had his name on his shirt. So the next time I walked by I used it and said hello to him and told his mother that I was sorry. “I didn’t expect to see you here. It was out of context.” She said it was okay and confided she didn’t expect to see me outside the neighborhood either. Another clue. I thought, “I’m so smart. She will never suspect how clueless I am.” 

I was starting to think I knew who she was. I didn’t see her husband, but then realized He was coaching. A final clue. “I figured it out!” I explained in my head. It was our direct next door neighbor and I hadn’t realized it was her because of the sunglasses and hat. The next time I walked by I used her name. And finally when leaving the park I saw her husband. I used his name and felt good about myself. I was trying to be a better neighbor. 

We went to chick-fil-a and then home and I saw our neighbor in the yard already picking up weeds. We had left before them, and I thought, “she made good time to already be working in the yard.”

Later that day at the pool. We saw them again in the right context, and all together. It was unmistakable. I asked their 9 year old to recount how many hits he had that day. He looked back at me confused. He turned to his mother and asked, “ Did I play baseball today?” She responded with a confused, “No.”

Uh-oh! I am Mr. Magoo. I’m Leslie Nielson from the Naked gun comedies. I’m inspector gadget without Penny and Brain (Carly). I clearly talked to the wrong person for an entire afternoon. I used clues to obtain their false identity. Used detail to confirm my stupidity. I felt terrible. I laughed at myself and so did my real neighbor.  But she did help me figure out who I was really talking to. I was right about one thing: It was a neighbor just from the back of the subdivision. 

Today at the pool was the first time I saw the lady with a hat and sunglasses. I summoned courage and went and confessed. We laughed. I got their real names and apologized for being an idiot. We laughed some more. Then they said they were praying for us. They had heard our story. River is well prayed for. I’m glad I didn’t cry. 

While I was laughing and bonding with new friends over my stupidity, Fielder and his new friend, an 8 year old named Ryan, did cannonballs into the pool. After about 5,232 cannonballs with Ryan he asked me to jump in too. I agreed. We backed up as far as we could, ignored the red lettered signage urging us not to run, and ran as fast as he could and leaped. Splash. The water rushed over us and engulfed us. I hit the bottom. Fielder floated. It was nice to forget and be childlike. We kept swimming and jumping and listening to the playlist of music created to help us cope. I love multitasking. 

After a few laps in the pool, I wished I was a better swimmer. I was tired. My upper back hurt. I hoped the laps would help me sleep. They didn't. Nights are hard. Quiet is hard. A day filled with activities should tire you out. It did physically, but nothing seems to rest my anxious mind. 

I should be in Atlanta. I need to be here. Carly is in pain. She is recovering well, but postpartum has its own list of new pains. She is facing them bravely. We cuddled on the couch last night for about 10 minutes. Then I put Fielder down and braced for the quiet house. 

I turned on the TV and watched a documentary titled, “The National Parks, America’s best idea.” This episode featured Teddy Rosevelt. It was comforting. He was an asthmatic sickly child who overcame his ailments and trials with Cowboy Grit. Later in life His mother died on the day his wife Alice birthed their first child. Hours after birth his wife died of kidney failure. I’m not well versed on all the bad things Rosevelt undoubtedly did. So don’t come at me with those. I do understand he did a lot of good. 

He was a republican conservative. But before you jump to the current paradigm of conservatism listen here. He was complicated. Not easily branded or pigeonholed. Roosevelt was a leader. One progressive policy was his pure food and drug act of 1906; this act eventually led to the creation of the FDA. I’m thankful I can trust the drugs, medicine, and treatment that River is receiving. I’m not an expert. I often don’t know what they are giving her and clearly can’t spell all the words they use. However, I can trust she isn’t being given unproven ointments and tonics meant to pray on my emotion and desperation for a miracle elixir. Rosevelt did that.

Finally, Rosevelt was dedicated to conservation. He retreated to the Dakotas after his wife’s death. This time in nature was therapy; it among other things established his Cowboy Grit. He called on his memories of time in nature as inspiration to create new national parks, forests, and monuments. He wanted to protect our nation's natural resources. I’m thankful we have these parks where we can find peace. 

Today I fished around the corner. Tomorrow I look forward to going out west like Rosevelt with Fielder in tow. I want to trout fish in the same Rivers Rosevelt helped protect. I hope it will revive my 21st century cowboy Grit. I can tell I’m going to need it again soon. 

River’s urine output still isn’t good. Her creatinine (spelling again hope this is correct) levels are good, but her kidney function isn’t getting better. They will increase the dose of medicine meant to reduce potassium and restore kidney function. She had a couple of seizures, but a lot less than before. All things considered she is about the same.

Please continue to pray.