Dad Doody.....

I just found this in a blog that I had started but never completed.   Enjoy a few laughs at my expense..   The things we get to do as parents are some of the most glamorous jobs one could ever have..  Try not to be too jealous at what I got to do in this blog.  I know it was an experience I will never forget...  But I'm trying to..   Enjoy.

Now, Saturday's are for the most part relaxing during the day.  I mean we do some clean up, she does some laundry.  But the evenings are usually pretty busy.  She is forever doing laundry and all the kids need a bath or shower.   The oldest is 12 and obviously can do it himself.   I run baths for the 7 yr old twins, but they get in and out and dry/dress themselves.  Then there's the 3 year old....   He isn't old enough to do it himself, so his bath is run, his hair is washed, he's washed up, then he gets to play for awhile.   He does as any 3 year old will do in the bath tub, he "swims",  he plays with washcloths, he dumps water from one cup to another or into empty bottles and then pours it on himself (and most times all over the floor as well).   

While he is in the bath, I usually sit out in the hall outside the door where he can see me.  I either play on my tablet or do dad things to make him laugh.  Usually that means throwing a balled up towel in the air and letting it  hit me in the head and pretending it knocks me out.  Or, laying in the hall and peeking around the doorway at him, or even yelling at him not to pour water on himself (jokingly in a funny voice).    Usually he spends about 15-20 minutes in there playing then gets pulled out, dried, and dressed.

This Saturday however was different...  He's in the tub playing and doing his thing when suddenly he stops, stands up, and starts yelling for me to get him out...   Now, this isn't really anything out of the norm as sometimes he just really wants out.  So I put down my tablet, get up, and take two steps into the bathroom and notice what appears to be something stuck to the wall..  It registers as poop, but my mind will not allow that to be what it actually is.  So of course I inspect and confirm that it is infact fecal art neatly hung on the wall..  My mind immediately goes to the twins because.. well..  they're gross and have been known in the past to exhibit their finger painting skills before on the bathroom walls.   So I start yelling for them to come down and I explain what I've found and they both deny doing it.   No big surprise there, they always deny at first but usually grilling them will break the one who did it.  But they weren't backing down...  Ok..  This is going to be tougher than usual..  Just as I'm about to channel my super interrogation skills when one of the twins screams "Dad! Bub pooped in the bath tub!!!!!"  Time instantly slowed to a crawl,  I see battleships trekking across the bathtub on Bub created waves..   And I instantly want to cry..    Great...  I'm beyond excited at the prospect of cleaning this up so I ask if there's a lot, and the reply I get from one of the twins is "no, there isn't much at all just a couple small pieces."   Ok, a couple small pieces I can deal with.  So Bub is out of the tub, after a check to make sure he was rinsed and poo free he is toweled off and dressed. 

Now, onto the clean up.  I walk toward the tub thinking that I could possibly wash the "few small pieces" down the drain or something right?.  As I take a look into the tub I then realize that not only has he pooped in the bath tub, but then realized he had to that point not pooped all day..   Needless to say he unloaded at least half his body weight into in the bath tub and none if it was small...  I don't know what small means to the twin who informed me but he was clearly wrong, so very, very, wrong...

Did I mention this was a bubble bath as well?  Normal bath with no suds would have been too much to ask for.  Nope, I get to play mine sweeper through bubbles as he has left all toys in the tub in his rush to abandon ship..  So I muster up the courage to start draining the tub, and as I do I start plucking toys out of the tub praying that the boats I'm pulling out do not have any stowaways on board...  Luckily they do not.  I get the tub cleared and wait for the water and bubbles to drain and reveal what lies beneath. 

So, finally the tub drains completely and as feared he has left both the tub and my soul destroyed.  There are few feelings as helpless as the feeling of figuring out how to clean out a tub full of poo without touching it, throwing up, or ending the child who did it.    With tears in my eyes I set forth and clean the tub out employing the roll of toilet paper to clean out each thing.   I then disinfect the tub with cleaner, spray it down, and rinse it out.  After which I call it good and retire to the living to weep silently for a few moments and try to shake that scene from my head.   I know this is something that kids do, and this isn't the first time I've been at the butt end of it (see what I did there?)  My oldest actually helped me try to clean out the tub with his bare hands when he was younger.  That was fairly horrific.  

As parents we are forced into doing some jobs that some people would not even dream of doing.  From cleaning up fecal filled tubs, to kids throwing up everywhere, stepping in things, bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes, the list is endless.  I know I put my own parents through a ton with multiple broken bones, sprains, dislocations, and more surgeries than I have fingers on one hand.  But you go through it and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...

Anyway, there is a small look into an evening in our house.  Hope you enjoyed a laugh at my expense.  And I'll drop another entry here in the next few days.

Until then, be well...

Rob

Update On Life..

Well, it's been awhile hasn't it?  I've purposely taken a step back from my blog over the last couple of months to gain a little perspective and I felt like maybe I was getting a little whiny in my entries.

I know that depression isn't whining and that sharing it can and does help.  But, I also still feel like a burden when I feel like this and talk about it.  That is honestly one of the hardest aspects of this to deal with.  The fact I want to talk about it, I want to help others who feel this way, but I feel like such a weight on everyone's shoulders when I talk about it in depth.   

So what has been going on since I last wrote?   Well,  I left my job and accepted another with a Hospice/Home Healthcare company in their Customer Relations dept.  I'm working 3rds which I'm not nuts about, but the pay is significantly better than my previous job.   I'm getting used to it but the whole almost reverse sleep cycle is hard to get used to.  I work Tues-Thurs then am off until the following Friday, then I work Fri-Sun, have Monday off and start the cycle over again.  So it will be rough working 76 hours in a 7 day span, but then I get a week off in between.  So I guess we will see how that all shakes out. 

I also have another interesting interaction with a homeless person not too long ago.  If you have read my earlier blogs I have mentioned that I have had some unique experiences with homeless people and giving them money.  This one is no different.  I took my oldest son to the post office in downtown Jackson to mail some pictures to a friend of mine for his birthday.  We parked and as we got out of the car I see this guy sitting outside the post office door with a sign. So instantly I know I want to do something for him.  The guy as we approach the building asks if I have any spare change, I didn't so I punched him in the face..  Ok, so I didn't,  but I didn't have any change but I felt compelled to ask what he needed change for.  He told me he was laid off from his job 4 months after his wife left the family.  He and his son were staying at a hotel but his disability he was getting wasn't enough to pay rent and food.  He said he was trying to find what work he could do in the meanwhile.  Whether he was or not isn't for me to judge or worry about.  So either the guy was extremely sincere, or he was a heck of an actor and should be making more than pocket change on a sidewalk.    I told him I didn't have any spare change but to hold tight and I'd get him on the way out.   So we go in pay for and mail the stuff and I broke a $50 that I had.  My oldest asked what I was going to do and I just said "help the guy out."   As we walked out I handed him $25 and about 70 cents in change that I had.  The guy welled up instantly and said "Bless you brother" and came forward and asked if he could hug me.  That was a first for me.  And while I may not seem like the hugging type I really don't mind.  So I said sure and he hugged me and said thank you and that it would buy some food for sure.  I apologized for not being able to give more and he assured me that what I did was more than enough.
And he said he was going to head back to his motel and get his son and pick up some food for supper.
He shakes my hand and thanks me again and I say that I wish I could do more and he heads off up the sidewalk and out of sight.    We get back to the car and Caleb goes "wow dad, that was really cool of you."   Then he comes out of left field with "why did you let him hug you?  What if he would have stabbed you?  And why did you give him $25?"    I just said "I wasn't worried about him stabbing me, I figure if he's a big enough man to humble himself and beg for money then he needs it more than I do and I don't think he would do that in order to stab someone.  If hugging me is his way of thanking me, I am fine with that.  And ultimately, how much I give him isn't important because it's not my money to begin with."   It was a great way to show the example that everything we have is on loan from God and to give freely with what you do have.   And I could tell it impacted him.  He mentioned a couple more times that it was cool to see that interaction and to see someone so touched by something as simple as $25 dollars.   I told him that we may not be rich monetarily but God has shown Himself to us through this experience.  He has shown us that even when we think we have very little, it can mean so much more to someone who has less.  And to also be grateful for what we do have and for what we can give to others who are not as fortunate. 

I also had another experience even more recently where I was coming home from a friends house in Lansing.  As I was coming up West Ave in Jackson I came to a stop light that was blinking red and so I stopped.  I saw a guy carrying a back pack standing about 6 feet from my truck and waving at me.  He was probably in his late 20's and I've never described anyone like this before, he had a very kind face.  He was clearly homeless and so I rolled my window down and he walks up and thanks me for stopping (I kinda had to for the red blinking light)  and asks.  "I know it's late, but I've been walking all day and I was headed to the train station, do you think it'd be possible to give me a lift?"   Then he said something interesting "I don't have any weapons, and I'll put my bag in the back of your truck."  Remembering the conversation I had with Caleb I told the guy sure and he climbed in.  He stuck his hand out and said "my name is Corey, thank you so much for the ride man."   I asked where he was coming from and he said had hitched from Coldwater to Albion and walked from Albion to Jackson.  He had family in Jackson but couldn't show up in the middle of the night so he was going to sleep at the train station and that he had done so before.  Then mentioned that he was hungry and said he had to think about trying to find some food in the morning.  I offered to buy him something to eat and he refused, I said it was no problem and after sitting there a second he asked if it would be too much trouble to stop at like Taco Bell..  I said no and we doubled back and he wanted 3 hard tacos.  It didn't come to much and all I had was a $20. So I paid and my change was like $14 and so I handed it to him with the food and told him to use it for coffee tonight and breakfast tomorrow or something.  He just kept saying "thank you man, thank God I ran into you."   Again, I don't know  if I was being hustled or not but it's not important and it's not up  to me to worry about.  To me it was another opportunity to help someone out.    So I dropped him at the station and he thanked me again and wished me the best.  It was a cool interaction.   I didn't once worry about him doing anything once he got in the truck because something told me he was ok.  And I'm generally pretty good at reading people. 

So all these interactions I've had over the last few years have got to mean something or be leading up to something.  Because up until a few years ago I never had these kinds of experiences or even the opportunity to have them.  And now it's been like 5 or 6 in the last few years that have really stuck with me.   I just wish I knew what it all meant.   As I have said the verse Matthew 25:40 is one that as soon as I read it something clicked in me and it has stuck with me since.  The first bible verse I have ever memorized and that has impacted me personally. 

Outside of that things have been things ya know?  This depression deal should come with some sort of owners guide so you know what is coming and what to expect because man, this deal kinda sucks..

The meds have helped but they don't solve everything, nor did I think they would.  But it just feels like I get to the point where I have a grip on it, and have it under control, then it rears it's head and reminds me that I really am not even close.  Good days and bad..  But the bad days hurt man...  There are days I just want to sit there and cry or just feel hopeless and want to cry.  And there have been a few times I do just cry for no reason.  Makes me feel like a complete headcase ya know?  And I've been told it's ok and that it's normal with depression to feel that way.  But when you haven't really knowingly dealt with it, it doesn't feel normal.  All I know is I hate it.   I still feel broken,  I still feel like a burden,  and I still feel like sometimes it would be easier if I wasn't here to burden others and myself at the same time.  But I also am realistic enough to know that I have too much to leave behind, and as selfish as I could be, and feel like I am for feeling this way.  I know I could never be selfish enough to go through with it.   So I know I have that grounding me and I'm thankful for that. 

That's really all I have for right now.  Hopefully I can get on some sort of roll and hammer out more entries here in the upcoming days/weeks. 

Until then, be well...

Rob

Behind The Mask....

Ambivalence -The coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward a person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions.

That seems to sum me up pretty well at the moment.  It's been 2 weeks since I considered taking my own life and I felt it was time to update this.  Whether it's for me, or for others reading, I'm not sure.
But I know it actually feels better to get this out and look it in the eyes and try to make heads or tails of it.

Two weeks have passed and a lot has happened.  First things first, I had to switch medication already.
The medication they put me on was triggering migraines or near migraines and I felt almost worse.
So we are trying something new and so far it seems to be holding up.  I don't feel any different so but I also know it takes a few weeks for it to work into my system.

The outpouring of support, prayer, kind words, shown by people has been nothing short of staggering to me.  People have felt compelled to share their stories of battling depression and anxiety and it's helped me to see that I'm not isolated on an island with these feelings and in this battle.  While I wouldn't wish this on anyone, it's reassuring to know that there are others who have and are going through this and that I can lean on them and vice versa.

The big question I've been asked,  "How are you feeling?"   My truthful answer,  the same...
While I know that may sound disheartening it's the truth.  It still feels very dark to me.  I may not be as robotic or catatonic as I was a majority of the week after that Sunday night, but I still feel like I'm in a very deep hole and the light at the top is very small.

And that's the thing of it all.  You just don't know.  What appears to be may not, in reality, be the case...  I may appear fine, I may joke with you, laugh, and seem like everything is fine.  But someone I won't name shared with me that they struggle with depression, but have become good at masking it.
And I think over time, that is what I have done as well.  I have become very well-versed in the art of appearing to be ok.  I use humor to offset any possible indication that something might be wrong.
I deflect things with humor and sarcasm.  I figure if I can make others laugh they won't see what lies beyond the humor.  And don't get me wrong,  I really do love to make others laugh.  But, I also think I've learned to use it as a mask to hide how I'm feeling inside.   It's like a duck on the water, on the surface he looks calm and in control of his world.  But if you look under water, he's rapidly churning and paddling his legs and feet to keep things moving and looking calm on the surface.

That's the best way I can describe this.  I may appear ok on the surface but inside I'm broken.
I will openly admit in the last 2 weeks I've had some pretty dark thoughts again.  Not quite as strong as the previous, but kind of like a reminder that it's there still.  The feeling of hopelessness has come and gone a few times.  It's like a rollercoaster really.  Some days I'll feel ok, and some days I bottom out.

I actually had someone message me on Facebook and call me selfish for considering suicide that night.  So that was a new twist on all this.  And yes, I will admit that in the moment you aren't thinking about anyone but yourself and how to stop the pain, stop the feelings of hopelessness and despair.  So, yeah, I guess in that aspect I was being selfish.  But you don't see it that way and you can't control how you feel either.  In that moment you're looking for any way possible to feel relief, to feel that heaviness and feeling of being a burden lifted, and in some ways, you actually think in the long run you are doing them a favor by taking that burden off of them.  A short period of sadness for the better of their long term life.  That's just being dead honest.  Those were the thoughts I wrestled with that night.  Those were the pro's and cons that I was checking off in my head as I sat in a pitch-dark living room.  I never contemplated the way I would commit suicide.  I did for several hours sit there and weigh out if it would be for the better if my family would be better off, how much of a burden I really was/am to them, how good of a father could I be when I feel this way and is it noticeable to them?  The farthest I let my thoughts of suicide go was that I decided if I were to do it, I would leave my home to do so. And there were reasons for that.  That to me in retrospect is a lot farther than I first thought I let it get.  Am I proud of this?  Not at all, I'm ashamed.  I feel selfish, was that person right?

But on the flip side, it's honest, it's how I felt that night, it's still there in some ways still.  It's very raw, very scary, and very dark.  I've had a few people from friends to doctors ask if I felt like I was a threat to myself.   I usually quickly dismiss this with a no and a chuckle.  I don't feel like I am, but the thoughts are still there and the hopelessness comes and goes.  I've been leaning on the support of friends and family.  I'm very grateful for them both.  My family has been very supportive and understanding.  And I'm trying my best not to burden them with this as much as possible.

One day at a time, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other...  That's kind of how I'm looking at things.  And it's helped honestly.

I'm broken, I wear a mask so others can't see what I'm feeling.  But I hope in these last 3 blogs you've seen that mask come off.   What you see and read is very exposing, real, and sometimes hard to type. I've hit the backspace button on this laptop more times than I care to mention.  I've had a shocking number of people tell me what I wrote took courage and that I was strong for doing so.  While I appreciate that, I don't see it as courageous or strong.   I see it as being honest about what is happening to me.  Not knowing what else to do with these feelings other than getting them out and on this blog so that I'm not bottling them up.  But if someone can read this, and realize they're not alone the way I've felt after having so many share their struggles with me, then some good can come of this I suppose.

They say God never gives you more than you can handle... I'm holding on to that as I struggle to handle this.  I trust that there is something to be learned in all of this or that somehow this part of my life is leading to something or somewhere He wants me to be, learn, or do.  What that is, remains to be seen.

Until then, I will go a step at a time, a day at a time.  And keep writing here in the hopes that plan reveals itself...

Until next time....

Be Well..

The Struggle...

Dark thoughts fill the spaces of my mind,
making happiness and laughter hard to find.

The weight on my chest, the feeling of despair,
The thought of no pain, suicide is there...

Knocking on the door like a welcome old friend,
offering you a solution if you only let him in.

The pain will be gone, your trouble will be through,
just listen to me friend, I'll show you what to do...

They won't miss you much, they'll be better off in the long run,
you have plenty of options to choose from, rope, car, pills, or gun...

There's no time like the present, no better time than now,
don't stop to think this over, don't think too much about how...

Pull the trigger, tie the knot, don't think, just do,
I'm your friend remember, I'm just trying to help you...

Do you want to live in pain, is life fun when you're depressed?
Do you like not being happy, do you like always being stressed?

I'm here to help you, friend, I promise to make it all go away,
Just lean on me brother, let me show you the way...

Take my hand, do not be afraid, everything is going to be alright,
I'm here for you to lean on, you no longer have to fight..

You're tired, I see this, you've been fighting for so long,
You're weakening, your defenses are failing, you no longer have to be strong.

Just embrace me, don't cry, I promise everything will be ok.
It will be all over before you know it,  all you have to do friend, is let me show you the way....


This is kind of a snippet into what the struggle looked like to me in my head when I thought about suicide.  Pain, stress, fear, all very real, all sitting on your chest like an elephant.  And then there is an escape, maybe not the best way to escape but a way out nonetheless.  And that weight can be so heavy, so overpowering, that any escape can look very tempting.  And it's like the cartoons you watched as a child,  angel on one shoulder, the devil on the other, both vying for your attention.  Only you don't hear the angel.  You only hear the devil offering you an easy solution.   That's just what it felt like to me anyway.  I'm sure everyone has different experiences.   I can only write to mine.  I know this is very dark and for that, I do apologize.  But, it's where I'm at right now.   Am I suicidal right now or having thoughts of it?   No, I have a game plan set forth by doctors, and the support of family and friends who have taken the time to show me, love and support.   And for you all, I am forever grateful and forever in debt to you for your kinds words and support.  

I'm still not in a good place.  It's still very dark.  But there is a glimmer of light in the distance and I will get there.

Until Next Time...

Be Well...

Broken...

I know it's been awhile.  And I know I usually write with a certain humor and/or sarcasm.  But this one is going to be different.  I'm not feeling very funny right now and I'll explain that as I go.
Depression is a strange animal, in that it can lay dormant for awhile, maybe poking its head up briefly just to remind you that it's still there.  But then disappearing again just as quickly, giving you the illusion that you can control it.   You can't..   That may not be profound, it may not be news to anyone who has dealt with depression.   But, I just found this out the hard way and it's not a fun realization to come to.  It's harsh, it's scary, and it hurts like you wouldn't believe..

I have probably dealt with depression in one form or another for many years.  Once I was put on Zoloft and took it for about a year.   Then decided I didn't need it because I had it under control, or so I thought.   It as I said would pop up here and there and I'd write it off as being in a "funk" or just being down.  And soon it'would fade and I'd return to some form of normal.  This has gone on for about 10 years and I thought it was something everyone went through.

Until Sunday.  Sunday I realized how deep depression can truly get.  I won't get into the logistics of what happened or could have contributed to this but it's been a combination of a lot of things over a period of time and this last one was what set things into motion.  I have never felt such a feeling of hopelessness in my life.  To the point where even when surrounded by others you still feel like you're completely alone.  And then everyone goes to bed and you find yourself literally alone with your thoughts and it's not a nice place to be.  Thoughts like if everyone woke up tomorrow, would they even notice if I were gone?  The world will go on, people will still go to work, the sun will still come up, birds will still sing.  Yes, some people might be sad but probably not for long.  Would they be better off without me as a burden to them?   Would a little pain in the interim mean less pain in the long run for not having to deal with my depression and all that it brings?   What kind of example am I for my kids if I can't even function properly?   Would ending it really be a release into being pain-free?

If that isn't paint by numbers clear enough to figure out what I'm referring to I'll lay it on the table for you.   Sunday night I had thoughts of taking my own life.  As I type this the tears sting my eyes because it's all very fresh still and not like anything I've ever felt or want to feel again.  It scared me.
I didn't get to the point of planning it or thinking about how I could do it.  I wouldn't let it get that far. But the question was there, it was thought about seriously and pro's and cons were weighed as to what the end result would be and how it would impact others.   But at that point, you don't care,  you only think about how you're negatively impacting others by being a burden.   I'd like to think I couldn't go through with it because of my family right?  But if I'm entertaining the thought of it despite their being around then there's got to be something to it right?    And I love my family, I truly do.  By all definition I have a pretty good life,  I have a beautiful family, we have a house, jobs, cars, we may not be rich but we get by.   But still, something managed to get into my head and make me wonder if all that would be better off without me.  And I feel so selfish for those thoughts but I couldn't control them.  It was like ping-pong balls bouncing around in my head.  And I felt broken... Completely broken and I can't even begin to describe what it was that was broken, but something was and is wrong.

And I get it now.  As someone who vehemently hates suicide, I get it totally...  Do I condone it?  Never, but I get why people go that route.  Because when you get to that point and you hit that low that you didn't think was possible you look for the way to take that pain away.  You look for the way to not be a burden to others because you feel broken.  Because you feel that heaviness of depression and you don't want to watch others be brought down by it.  Is it heroic?  No.  But I was once one of those people who would call someone who commits suicide a coward.  I would say they took the easy way out and that it was a permanent solution to a temporary problem.  But you know what?  Depression isn't temporary...  I have known many people who have committed suicide in my life, I've known others who have tried and failed.  And the ones that were successful, I always wondered what their mindset was leading into that decision to take their life.  And while I did not attempt to take my life,  I can say I understand a little bit more of what it must have been like and it is absolutely terrifying.  And maybe they didn't have that beautiful family to ground them,  maybe they didn't have the courage to admit there was something wrong ( and I am by no means courageous), maybe they couldn't get past the feeling that they were bringing others down and were a burden to life and all around them.  I get it...  I don't know what snapped me out of it.  God?  My family?  I don't know.  But something kept me from going to that next step and I'm thankful for that.

Today I broke at work.  Just lost it entirely.  Could not for the life of me get it together.  So with the help of a supervisor who was a great help to me.  We took the steps necessary to get me some help.
Do I still feel broken?  Completely.   I feel ashamed for feeling this way.  Like I should be a grown-up and not feel this way.  Like I'm being difficult.  But I went to see my personal doctor as well and we talked for about 45 minutes and I was a mess.  That seems to be a fun part of this bout is losing it at the drop of a hat...  And I am willing to try medication again.

There is a stigma attached to admitting you have a problem with depression and taking medication, and that you've thought about taking your own life.  Maybe that stigma is self-induced.   But I feel broken like there is something wrong with me that makes me different from others and not in a good way.  Like people will judge me for feeling like I wanted to harm myself, for having to take medication for it, for being so depressed you don't know which way is up anymore.  And that is something I'm going to have to work through with the help of a professional.  I've learned the hard way this isn't something you can just "ride out" and hope it goes away.  I never in a million years would think I could ever possibly reach this point.  But here I am.

So here I am..  Completely exposed...  I'm not quite sure why I decided to share this but something in me felt compelled to.  Maybe to some, it will answer questions about me and why I've been a certain way.  Maybe it was for my own personal record to remind myself that no matter who you are, depression can impact you.  I don't know.

I have a road ahead of me that I hope is going to be different.  I hope to get something out of my
sessions with a counselor.  And I'm grateful for the words, support, and prayer of my family and friends.   I have too much to live for I know this.  But I've learned that even knowing that doesn't stop depression from making you doubt it.  I'm sorry for the length and heaviness of this post.  It's not the best way to end a hiatus from writing, but it's who I am right now.

Here's to better days...

Until Next Time...

Be Well..

Stupid 8 Legged Creatures Of Satan..

Alright....  I've officially had it with spiders, house centipedes, and anything else that serves no purpose in the grand scheme of life...   Yeah yeah, I know "spiders eat mosquitoes and other bugs, and House Centipedes eat the spiders..."   But I wouldn't shed one single solitary tear if they all became extinct tomorrow...     Allow me to share the traumatic and horrifying experience of my morning with you..

Hi,  My name is Rob..  I am proof that God has a sense of humor...   Let's start at the beginning of my day..  About 6:58am I wake up to the joyous sounds of my 2 year old in mid concert in his room.  I glance at my alarm clock which is set for 7:20am and see that it says 6:58am.   Just as he breaks into a rousing rendition of The Wiggles song Michael Finnegan...  Stifling some anger at the thought of being brought out of a good sleep by The Wiggles, I stumble out of bed, get dressed, and head into Alex's room..  Where upon I look at him in the eye and say "really dude?"    I'm met with an enthusiastic wave and a "Hi daddy, I waking up.."  No kidding....    Get him up, get him dressed, and he's off to the races to the kitchen to see mama before she leaves for work.   She leaves, I get the boys fed, finish getting them ready for school and send them out to the bus stop.   Bub and I make our way to the front room for our morning ritual of watching the boys wait for the bus from the front room.  I park it on the couch, coffee in hand and talk to Jonah through an open window.  Bub is coloring on the floor.
Bus comes, boys board, they're off for the day.  Bub wants to watch Wiggles which I am shocked to my very core about because it's ALL HE WATCHES...   Whatever, it makes him happy..  I load up Hulu and fire up The Wiggles and he's in heaven.   I figure this is the perfect opportunity to unload and reload the dishwasher, then do what dirty dishes there are on the counter....   God, He had other plans....

I unload and reload the dishwasher with no problem.  I size up the dishes on the counter and figure they'll just take a few minutes to do.   I fill the sink with soapy water, dump the dishes in and wash them without incident..  I pull the plug on sink and it drains...  That's where God had some fun with me and I'm thinking it went something like this...

*From the point of view of God*

God - "Alright, what's on the agenda for this morning....  End hunger.... Eh...    End homelessness and poverty....  Meh...    Find a cure for all diseases.....  Bah...    OHHH  LOOK!! Rob Gibson is doing dishes...  Watch this.....

*With a wiggle of his finger God places a dime sized spider on the ceiling above me*

God - "This is gonna be hilarious....  Guys!!  Guys!! Come here and watch this..  I'm gonna drop a spider on Rob Gibson and it's going to be hilarious..  There is a chance we may meet him shortly after but let's focus on the reaction and not the results..."

*God wiggles his finger again and the 8 legged creature of Satan slowly descends from the ceiling hovering 4 inches above my head...*

God - "Guys where should I drop it?   His head?  Shoulder?  He would FREAK OUT!!   Oh oh oh oh, I GOT IT!!!    Let's drop it RIGHT ON HIS CHEEK!!!! "

* God slowly moves his finger and guides the spider onto my right cheek.. *

I without thinking lightly brush my cheek at the thought of a possible hair on my cheek.. Oh wait, I'm bald..  I brush my cheek again and into the sink flies a dime sized brown spider as I may or may not be jumping up and down and yelling things that God probably had not planned on me yelling... And I apologize for that.  So as I swipe said spider into the sink I manage to yell "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!?!?"   I don't know if that was meant for the spider or God.. Either way I got no response..
I watched that little spider running around the sink and decided that his unholy existence needed to be ended.   I turn the water on and wash him down the drain, and for good measure turn on the garbage disposal in case he somehow managed to survive the wash down...

Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure God is up there rolling on the floor crying and replaying the whole thing over and over again for friends and family members of mine who are up there...    Well played God...  I knew you had a sense of humor, I mean look at the Giraffe or Duck-Billed Platypus...    But I think He is also a bit of a practical joker....  

Its not the first time He's got me with a spider...   They like to drop from the bill of my hat while I'm driving and see if I'm actually willing to roll my car to kill it...    They have run down my arm while I'm playing video games only to have me launch myself out of my chair shaking my arm like it's on fire and throwing the controller across the room like that will solve things..   And the best one was sitting on the floor one time reading a magazine., I felt something brush my leg and assumed it was my cat.  I reach down to pet it... Nope...  It was a quarter sized wolf spider...   I immediately brush it onto the floor and proceed to Riverdance on it like my name was Michael Flatley.  

I'm not much of a catch and release the spider kind of guy..  I'm a mash and destroy it's very existence type.   The less there is left of him when I'm done the better I feel.

Now that I've sufficiently portrayed myself as a psychotic arachnophobic person I will sign off...  I have recently re-tore my rotator cuff and have to head into physical therapy.

Until Next Time..

Be Well,
Rob Gibson

The World's Worst Tooth Fairy...

This portion of the story I will not allow my kids to read right away.  But hopefully they’ll appreciate it down the road when they’re older…  One of life's great moments is getting to play Santa, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy….

For the most part it takes next to zero talent to play any of these characters…  There typically is no dress up, no interaction with kids, and no special talent needed..  Just the ability to be quiet and not a complete idiot.

I’m a pretty darn good Santa.   OK, I don’t normally play Santa.  That is usually left to the wife because she is particular about how presents are distributed and placed…  I would be just as happy tossing them under the tree from 6 to 8 feet away and calling it good..   She strategically places gifts under the tree in such a way that they’ll get distributed Christmas morning in the order she wants them opened..   It’s quite a work of art really…  Or maybe some lunacy and OCD but who is to say?

Easter… Again, that’s her..  She is particular about the setup of the baskets and how they’re displayed on the table for when the kids first discover them in the morning..    The more I think about it, the more I’m glad she does this..  Otherwise the kids would think Santa and the Easter Bunny suffer from some form of brain damage as they’d just throw stuff into the basket and under the tree with no rhyme or reason and it’d look horrible…

So my one job is to be Tooth Fairy…  Not the worst job to be left right??   Wrong…   You have to be part ninja in order to pull it off…  First off, who ever decided putting the tooth under their pillow is an idiot..  Why set yourself up to have to disturb their sleep by jamming your hand under their pillow and rooting around for a tooth that could be anywhere?    Then there is the fact that my 3 oldest sleep in a triple bunk bed that I built.. So when Jonah who sleeps on the top bunk loses a tooth, I have reach up to a height of probably 6’3” and try to fish around under a pillow…

This leads me to my story of being a complete failure of a Tooth Fairy…

Jonah had just lost a tooth and was very excited that the Tooth Fairy would be visiting that night…   So bedtime comes and they get read to and I make my way back down stairs.  We decide to wait a while until we are sure they’re asleep to make an attempt at the tooth….  Well… I completely forget and go to bed..   Sometime around 6:15 the next morning Jill wakes and asks me if I ever grabbed that tooth and put the money under the pillow……..  CRAP!!!    I completely forgot…     Now I have several factors working against me here..

It’s 6:15am, the boys may or may not be awake already…
I’m a pretty big dude walking on a floor that creaks when the wind blows let alone me trudging across it..
I have to reach up, under a headrest board, and under a pillow and try to find a tooth that could be anywhere due to him being a wild sleeper…

So, I head up and creak my way across the floor… No one is stirring so far..  I get to the head of Jonah’s bed and reach under his pillow and there is NO TOOTH!!!  Now part of me hopes that there was really a Tooth Fairy and she came and got the tooth already…  But the realist in me has come to grips with the fact that he has pushed it somewhere in the midst of this thrashing sleep..
So,I thrust my hand back under his pillow and slide it full length and finally find his tooth and pull it out…  As I do Jonah sits bolt upright and rubs his eyes…  Quickly I put the tooth in my pocket and stand there with the money in my hand like a complete idiot…    Jonah turns around and leans over the railing and goes “hey dad, what’re you doing?”    I’m so screwed…  How do I explain this?   I have 2 options… Option 1, I render him unconscious with a shot to the head..  Or 2, I come up with some story and pray he buys it…

So after what feels like  15 years of standing frozen I realize I have the money in my hand that I was going to put under his pillow…    So here is what I came up with on the fly…
“Hey buddy,  I was just coming upstairs to get you and Josh up for school and found this money laying on the floor… It must have fallen out from under your pillow last night after the Tooth Fairy was here….”     I hand him the dollar bill and he says “thanks dad, good thing you found it or I might have never found it and thought the Tooth Fairy forgot to leave money.”     My heartbeat was about 193 bmp at this point..   But he bought it!!   So keeping in character with that story I say
“Well, glad I found it for you… Alright guys, let’s get up and moving for school…”  

Holy crap….  Since that incident there have 2 other incidents of the Tooth Fairy forgetting to come….    Both my fault..    The first the boys got up and discovered the Tooth Fairy hadn’t come yet and was disappointed…  I admit, I forgot to go up that night…  So I told them..  Sometimes the Tooth Fairy is super busy and to think of all their friends who had teeth fall out and then think about all the kids in the world and there only being one fairy to cover the world… Sometimes she runs behind schedule..  Meanwhile, I had run upstairs while they were getting dressed downstairs and put the money under their pillow.   Then came back down and told them to run up and check on last time before they went to school… And low and behold there would be money and they were beside themselves that the Tooth Fairy snuck in and out of the house while everyone was awake…   Man I suck…      Then I forgot about a week ago and this time Jill told them to go check one last time and she had run the money up there…   OK, so maybe I’m not such a  good Tooth Fairy…   But hey, I have a lot working against me here…

So now, we have the boys leave their teeth on their bed posts instead of under their pillows…  And I can just run up grab the tooth, drop the money on the bedpost and run like a lunatic across the room and downstairs before they wake up.


Who knew being a fictitious character could be so hard???  


Until Next Time….

Be Well,
Rob Gibson