Life Without Netflix? I’m No Survivorman…

I was talking to a friend the other day, saying I could not be Amish because I would miss air conditioning. I thought he topped me by saying he couldn’t live without Netflix. That is pretty damn spoiled. But after some thought, I realized how I am just as bad. And not because I am female. He is really high-maintenance.

Ironically, I have a thing for the low-maintenance guys. (More bathroom mirror time for me!) And Les Stroud is my hero. I like to watch “Survivorman” because it reminds me of how screwed I would be out in the woods, swamp or desert for week. It amazes me to think of making fire with lint from my sock. I take socks totally for granted! Building my own shelter? Decorating it, maybe, but construction? I don’t know. I could end up trapped underneath a pile of sticks and palm leaves.

Les never takes much with him. I wonder how he sits out there in the wilderness and just plays the harmonica. And plays it well. Even when he is worried, he looks happy. He LOVES nature. I love nature too, from indoors. I would be in a full blown panic. Maybe he has some weed in his bag of magical herbs, and I’m sure he knows which mushrooms to pick.

I wonder what I couldn‘t live without. Then I feel dizzy from all the images that pop into my head at once. I know I should have a multi-tool. But my first thought is a crate of lighters and matches because I don’t have that sock thing down yet. I can’t even imagine life without electricity. Pitiful.

I notice that Les always sleeps on a bed of leaves, or even rocks. I want an air bed! And a mirror… and as many razors as possible. I just cannot have hair on my legs, even if I’m starving to death. Notice I have not even mentioned food until now… seeing how I don’t love killing critters, or even cooking. So let’s just say I learn to live off of exotic fruit. Without a refrigerator or microwave in the scenario, my mind shuts down.

It probably disintegrate into a pretty ugly situation after awhile… me crying for some nail glue and a pizza. At that point, the bag of magical herbs would come in real handy. And I know I am not the only person who would crumble under the isolation, the disorientation, and lack of electricity. My spoiled, will-not-mow-a-lawn friend would cry for Steak-Out and Netflix. My son would die without an internet connection. I guess that’s why Les plays the harmonica.

A Child In Pain

Every parent knows one thing for sure… that before their child was born, they imagined the love they would feel for their baby. But you never even come close to the real thing. Because it feels like more love than your heart can hold. And until you have a child, it is an impossible concept. Before motherhood, I thought I loved my cat.

Most pregnant women say they don’t care what sex their baby is, as long as it is healthy. That is all we really want for our children, when it comes down to it. It is more than wanting a perfect baby. Before they are even born, we want our kids to have a fighting chance, to live without any pain or added difficulties. This is the first phase of selflessness.

They say that a parent’s worse nightmare is losing their child. Because you are losing the purpose of your life, which is to be a mom or dad. The child doesn’t die alone — so do the dreams, the shared joy, and innocent laughter of those who are left behind. Without their child, the light in their life dims, if not darkens altogether.

In between a parent’s worst nightmare and the best case scenario, lies an almost silent epidemic, seldom mentioned, but often suffered: a child who is sick and/or in pain. A child with a serious diagnosis… and then a prognosis, worse for some than others.

No one ever prepares themselves for the news that their child is ill. Suddenly nothing is the same. The focus of everything is to make the suffering stop. To try and recapture a life before the sickness or stop wondering what could have been.

As a mom, you want to fix everything for your children. But a chronic illness cannot be fixed. It is in control, not you. And that is both terrifying and frustrating. All you can do is listen to the doctor, educate yourself, pay for the prescriptions and hope they work. You buy books and research the internet at 2 a.m., hoping to find something, anything that will give you answers. A treatment. A cure.

You get angry at the disease. You wonder if you did or didn’t do something wrong to cause this. You lash out. You throw blame at everyone who doesn’t deserve it. You cry… but not in front of your child. You hold it in, until you are alone. You roll your eyes at people who don’t understand but probably mean well. You can’t laugh because nothing is funny in a world where your child is hurting. You look around at people with healthy children and just know they take it for granted.

If you pray, you bargain. You offer your health, your money, your life, anything —  in exchange for their healing. But it never works. No matter what you would trade, your prayers are answered with apathetic silence. You wonder why children get sick in the first place, and why is your child one of them.  You scream at God.

But you never stop trying to make it better. That is the love of a parent.

How To Lose A Guy In 22 Years

Well it looks like after spending half our lives together, my husband and I can‘t do it anymore. Why doesn‘t really matter. Either way, I lost him.

I am not the most forgiving person. We have had a lot of problems and I tend to throw up the past. I can be pretty brutal when I am hurt. But I can honestly say I gave this my best effort. I gave it my all; I fought hard. Sometimes though you cannot win. The closest you can come is to keep your dignity.

We had a hard stressful two years: both of us downsized, our son diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, another downsizing in my near future, the scramble to keep health insurance, the doctor and hospital visits. We just buckled underneath the weight of it all.

I feel like it started when he had to work in Ohio. We were apart for almost a year, with a few breaks and trips home. For an adventure, my son decided he wanted a part of the experience, and he went to live there. I let him go because I wanted him to be happy.

I was on my own for the first time in my life. I guess my husband was too. Words can’t express how empty the house felt. I wasn’t happy at all.

When my son came home in April, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t wait for June, when my husband would come home too. I thought everything would be better than ever. But we had both changed in little ways.  And we lost a lot of the things we had in common… the main thing I noticed was how we hardly laughed together anymore.

He left tonight.

I paced the floor for three hours. Now I am in charge? My son puts on a brave face. He’s 16 and not stupid. But I try to appear strong for him. I wish I knew who to call to cry to, but I won’t impose on my friends. We both work, and he’s a great father, but I am already worried about the bills. And Christmas. What do we do about that?

I don’t know how to be single. Or a single parent. I don’t know how to handle working and caring for my son by myself. I am scared shitless. I am angry. But most of all I am sad. Sad to know that it’s over. That the time we had together is all we are going to get. I just hope one day I can remember how great it was without wanting to cry.

Maybe he’ll find himself. Maybe he’ll come back. Maybe he’ll be happier without me….