Making the Most of a Seizure

Last week my one-year-old son, John, had a seizure—you know, eyes rolled back, arms twitching—and went to the hospital in an ambulance. Thank God, he’s fine now.

It wasn’t anything to joke about—but the fact that he milked our sympathy for all it was worth was.

Johnny got away with everything. He chewed on cell phones. Grabbed medical cords. Even worked the hallways of the ER by the end of the night, winking and waving at all the nurses like he was Dr. McDreamy.

Why didn't I ever think of that when I was a kid?

The UW Badgers’ football coach wants to capitalize on Johnny's suave talents, too. Coach has recruited Johnny to toddle the opponents’ sidelines this year, yanking all the cords on the opposing coaches’ headsets.

I smell scholarship.

I discovered Johnny's seizure in an odd way. My two-year-old daughter, Belle, and I were roaming the shopping mall, searching for my wife and son. I came upon the center of the mall, noticed a toddler convulsing and thought, “That’s odd; there’s a convulsing baby wearing the same outfit as my son... wait a second!” Then I ran up to the crowd yelling, “that’s my baby!” Only after the crowd parted did I see my wife, who told me the ambulance was on the way.

Then I set the world record for Fastest Mental Rosary. (Sisters Bernadette and Mary Katherine would be so proud!)

Meanwhile, Belle’s having a typical meltdown. I pointed to her brother and said: “Johnny’s very sick, the ambulance is coming. We need you to be a big girl right now.”

Belle, of course, didn't get it and said, “But I want to look at the teddy bears!” and pointed at a mall vendor’s make-your-own-teddy-bear stand. A few minutes later she said, “Some day I’LL get to ride in the ambulance!”

This made me think of some odd comments made recently by author Daniel Gilbert while he was a guest on The Colbert Report on Comedy Central. He was promoting his new book about happiness.

“It turns out kids have a very small effect on happiness, and the effect tends to be negative,” Gilbert stated rather matter-of-factly. “That means that people who have children tend to be a little less happy than people without.” That comment was greeted by a raucous cheer from a drunk woman in row 4 of the TV audience who obviously had some delicious snacks waiting for Hänsel and Gretel.

But Stephen Colbert, the host/comedian interviewing Gilbert, didn’t let him off the hook.

“Are you confusing happiness with the feeling of the sublime?” Colbert asked Gilbert. (Colbert was actually being serious.) “Because children are a pain in the (rump), I’ll grant you that," Colbert said. "But the feeling that comes with children, I have found, is superior to happiness: That is, the sublime.”

This week, Belle and I experienced the sublime while flying her kite at the park. (Or as Belle would say, “the kite flewed away.”) I held the taut kite string while she held the slack, and we ran together. I’ll never forget the blissful look on her face, mouth open, giggling. It was a sunny day, one so bright you experience it like a dream while you’re living it. If that’s not happiness, I don’t know what is.

Besides, happiness in parenting is how you look at it. For instance, Belle recently volunteered to “clean” the bird poop off our deck furniture (read: smear) with her fingers. I haven't read Gilbert's book but, based on his comments, I suppose that scenario wouldn't fall under his definition of granting a parent happiness. Then again, Belle did dub herself “Princess Bird Poop,” and that definitely gave me ample joy.