Where my life and Breaking Bad intersect

There is this episode of breaking bad, when Jesse Pinkman goes to retrieve money from a meth couple and finds a little kid at the house.

We have a little kid at our house on weekends, the foster kid. Mr. Hall and I bring him every where we go with our kids, like to the park. The park kids say to him, "Can your Dad push us on the spinning thing?" He says, "That's not my Dad. My Dad's in jail." Which, oddly enough, doesn't make me that sad. His dad writes him, calls him and sends his son pictures he drew.

"That's more that I got from my Dad", says Mr. Hall, whose Dad was never in jail, just in California.

That bums me out.

The kid's mom is not in jail. I think about her when I tie her son's shoes, watch him pet our kitty, tuck him in at night and make him pancakes. I think about what she is missing, like I'm stealing her moments.

All she has to do is simple things and she gets the boy back in her life. When I say simple things, I say REALLY SIMPLE THINGS. No heavy lifting required. But she's not. And so we get him on weekends.

He sleeps on the bottom bunk in my son's room. We're going to give him his own two drawers next weekend so he won't have to pack a bag each time he comes.

All of this is driving me a bit crazy. I'm starting to feel less of a babysitter to this kid. I'm starting to love him and put him in line with my kids, love wise. This is dangerous. He's not ours. He has a Mom and Dad. The kid wants to be with his mom. I want him to be with his mom.

So, I pray for her and try to hold back my judgement. I try not to bristle when his grandma comes and drops him off. Her pain fills the room and I feel sucker punched by it. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

So I hold the kid when he lets me. No stopping the love now, it's already out there.

MEANWHILE

There is a character named Hank on the show. He unexpectedly gets shot and is in the hospital. His wife fights the insurance to pay for his therapy.

Last week we got a call that my Dad is in the hospital. He dumped his motorcycle, broke a collar bone and nine of his ribs on the right side.

It's going to take a long time to heal from this. He's 72 and has the old bastard trifecta of diabetes, high blood pressure and obesity. They are weaning him off the ventilator in the next few days. The co-pay for the insurance is nutz and we are all struggling with this.

This is not the first time we've had hospital calls about my Dad. He's a big bull who is stubborn and not careful. He's broken ribs, nearly cut off his thumb and gotten subdural hematomas all within the last few years.

He's not careful.

Today he was alert enough to make facial expressions and gestures. It was weird and shocking for me. He wants the tube out. I wonder if he'll be a different person after this-the most severe of injuries. I'll love him no matter what though. I've long since forgiven him and have grown actually found of him lately.

Like I said to my mom, "We'll get through this as a family."

Meanwhile, the pregnancy on Breaking Bad produced a little love of a girl. I'm now 37 weeks pregnant and READY TO GO.

Yet another intersect.

so, my question is . . .


Where's the money Lebowski???

OH WAIT. that's a different show!! :)

Fine Breaking Bad, I'm not made of wood, I'll watch you. yo.

Season one thoughts.

Why don't I give in to these things? Countless bloggers have extolled the virtues of this show. Friends have recommended it. Yet, I have resisted.

Then, I started reading the recaps of the lastest season.

SO. Started watching it.

It brings up a number of questions, season one. Questions Mr. Hall and I debate.

Like:

If you had some serious cancer eating away at your insides, would you go through chemo knowing there was only a slim chance it would work?

Would you crank out crystal meth and sell it to people to make the payments on said chemo?

Is it evil to cook and sell the meth?

How come the wife isn't supportive or warm? She's quitely emasculating which irritates the crap out of me. Sigh. SIGH.

Somehow we women have been sold a bill of goods that in order to be strong we must be ball busters. This is not how God made us. Our strength is in our softness. Our strength is in our love. I would have held Walt's hands, supporting him with his non-chemo requests.

She does seem to come around though, near season two beginning.

Why does Walt not have a better job? He seems smart and had some personality in the flashbacks of his life. Not so much of a shell.

Well, for us, the first question is a tough question. About the chemo. We Halls are believers there is much more than this life. If God is calling us home, why fight it? Let God's plan unfold, it's going to anyway. But, if Walt went on hospice, prayed and quietly went into this good night, it wouldn't be much of a show-now would it?

Question 2: Is it evil to cook and sell the meth?

This divides Mr. Hall and I. I say yes, selling meth is spreading evil. He says no, people have personal choices that they make and we aren't responsible for them. It's a weird sticking point between him and I.

But.

There are a thousand other things underneath this character. Things manly and masculine that I can't begin to fathom. Men have a call to fix, to provide, to be men. I do worry though. Where is the wellspring of yon Walter White's power as he becomes a man?

Is it evil?

We shall see. . .

onto season two


yo.