Thursday, February 2, 2012

a week at Cottonwood Gulch

Most know what I should do. They think of ways for me to get busy, earn an income, pay into the whole. And I get it. I understand. I have worked/been employed since I was fifteen. That first job at Fred's Dollar Store was the best decision I had made up until that point. Oh wait, I did take that initial year off with Slater.

I burned him.

Right on the arm.

When he was a baby.


It was just that he was sleeping on a baby blanket on the floor and we (I) had a humidifier in the room, down there, steaming, at the edge of the blanket. He had gone to sleep so I walked around the corner into the kitchen and I left him there. There were things to do, ya' know supper, cleaning, his dad may come home for lunch, he was napping on his stomach cause that's how he napped then. He had rolled over maybe one or two times his whole life, if that, or maybe more. It's just that he wasn't big into rolling over so I wasn't worried.

I should have been.

I should have been smarter.

It was an accident but it felt like a mortal sin.

I heard him, even had a baby monitor. you'll never be that scared in your entire life or I should say I had never been. and shamed, amen. His Nan was the first person I called. She was the mother, still is, of her small town. Was a Nana for a local family, had kept the church nursery, was besides my own Mom and Mrs. Sue Parker (Kim's Mom) one of the best women I had ever met.

I burned my baby and I had to call her.

My baby was burned and I had to call Nan. She was in town, maybe at the pharmacy by that point, yes I'm sure at the pharmacy. That's how we got the Silvadene. almost twenty years later we still have it. I know, I need to throw that away, huh? Anyway, I called Nan on the phone and I said, screamed, went insane, lost my mind,

Nan, I burned Slater.

What? Shea. Calm down. except it was in all caps.

Nah, I wasn't calming down. Yes, he was in my arms. It was the humidifier. He rolled over. He was asleep when I walked into the kitchen. I wasn't gone long. I promise. Yes, it's blistered. It's a bad burn. Oh Good Lord, what do I do?

You know how they say there are no atheists in a foxhole? I am here to attest to that fact. Amen.

Nan said go to the doctor, straight there, thirty miles, the clinic for the kids where Slater's doctor resides.

Car seat.

Seat belt.

Drive while having a stroke and wondering how long you'll spend in prison. How old will Slater be when you get out?

Thirty miles, going fast, isn't this what the hazard lights are for? Cotton fields of casinos were not even noticed. I was blinded by the fear that I had hurt my child. Worst feeling in the world.

You must have nerves of steel to become a parent.

I promise, swear.

Can you believe that that doctor did not call DHS? It was most likely 'cause he thought that I was having a heart attack. In the courtroom of the doctor's office I was declared mentally insane and got to keep my child. Thank God. Amen.

He lived, has the scar, knows the story and laughs at me.

Well, that was funny. not really, but sometimes you have to laugh. I mean, he survived.

Here, Lucky Shirt, posted this. He is cute, the father of two children with a beautiful girlfriend named Julie and living in California. He is quite artsy, possibly a teacher and young it seems. He and Julie ride bikes in beautiful weather. Or he's an old homeless guy living in Florida disguising himself as all those other things and taking great pictures. All that matters is that he is smart and funny and he seems to know at least something about being a good Dad. So there you have it. Click on the link 'cause that stuff is funny and sometimes when you are a parent you need funny.

Grateful for funny and that Slater says he doesn't ever want me to delete this blog before telling him. Maybe one day he could read some of it to his kids or grandkids. I love to hear my parents' stories which means that my Dad is most likely going to have to write for the book. you hear that, Dad?

Grateful that Slater survived.

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