As I began to write this post in my head, intended for the other blog as yet another chapter in my efforts to cure Cole's asthma through natural means, I realized that this isn't about asthma, allergies or food at all. It's about my husband. It's a seemingly meaningless moment that sums us up so well. It's funny because my dear sweet California uncle-in-law occasionally reminds me in his gentle way that I never say anything about Tim on this blog, and it's true. Like many mothers, I often move my husband to the backburner. And my husband, being who he is, never EVER complains about that. It's also funny that many people assume that I'm the sunny, cheerful outgoing half of The Seevers, and Tim's the quiet, serious, sometimes brooding side of us. It's assumed that, as our friend Michael drunkenly toasted at our rehearsal dinner, I am the sun and Tim is the moon. What most people don't know is that the opposite is true. I can be the QUEEN of catastrophic thinking and Tim ALWAYS, without FAIL, sees the silver linings in any situation. So this is kind of a big lead-up to a very unexciting story, but it is what it is. Cole has had a rough June. We see the pulmonologist on Tuesday, but I already know: Gluten may not be Cole's enemy, but grass definitely is. Once we started treating his reflux in January, his allergies got better, and I'm sure cutting back on starchy gluten-filled snacks HELPED, but so did his generally more healthy diet. Then grasses hit in June and just knocked him flat on his back. I had to call the doctor and the pharmacy and reinstate his inhaler regime, and we got him back on track. And now that things are calming down out there in nature, so have Cole's lungs, and the inhalers have been put away again. But he can also have a hot dog bun, and he's just fine. Gluten-free life, as it turns out, was not the magic cure for my Cole. But, as Cole has started to eat just a little gluten here and there, so have I. And for the first time since Christmas, I woke up yesterday with my right hip and knee joints screaming. I've been pouting about it for a few days. I've LIKED having cake and bread and pasta. This morning, when Tim came downstairs and started making his coffee, I slid right into my unconscious habit of complaining. The bitter irony of it all. That the only reason I went off gluten was to be Cole's friend, to support him in his sweet willingness to give up yet another food. And how it was so unfair that it turns out he can have it, and that while I can too, it makes me hurt. Ridiculous. Tim sat there listening quietly like he always does, and then smiled. WHAT? I was so annoyed. He said, "Or you could look at it like this. You actually found out what was causing a problem in your life and you know how to fix it." RIGHT. Tim: "But more important is the greater moral of the story - it pays to be Cole's friend."Oh I love that man.
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