Why Smoke Crack When You Can Knit

I bet the two habits cost about the same. I have nothing of note to report -- no current or pending hospitalizations, although I still can't hear out of my left ear -- so I figured I'd post some pictures of the stuff I've been knitting. And then you can leave comments telling me how cute it all is. I live for comments.

First: hats. I am knitting baby hats like a crazy person. I am currently working on my fourth Sweet Baby Cap, and will probably make a few more before I decide I'm bored with that pattern. It's just so cute! And stripy! And it makes Sigrid look like a spaceman (well, spacewoman)!



I also made a Bobble-Textured Hat a few months ago with some lovely merino-possum blend yarn (Australian possums, not American opossums). It finally fits Sigrid, sort of, so here's a picture.



I've also knocked out a couple sweaters... boy, it really sounds like I have too much time on my hands, doesn't it? Anyway, this one was made with the kick-ass alpaca that Amber spun and dyed herself. Talk about an awesome Christmas present. Sigrid says the sweater makes her feel super.



Finally, a moss-stitch cardigan from the supremely lovely Rowan Pipsqueaks pattern book, which is second only to Rowan Babies. Kim Hargreaves is a fantastic designer -- simple, classic sweater designs. I think I'll make a few more of this design as well to give as gifts.



Okay, now I'm going to go tell Soren to stop kicking the wall. He keeps finding new things to do in place of napping. I think I prefer it when he sings the alphabet song.

Nope, Can't Catch a Break

Soren, Sigrid and I all took a fun and, ultimately, pointless trip to the "Express" Care clinic at Kent Hospital yesterday, since I've had a raging sore throat and no voice for three days, and Soren has been sick since time immemorial and finally tripped the "Go To Doctor" switch by chundering all over the coffee table yesterday morning. Sigrid, however, was just along for the ride, since she's been on amoxicillin for her ear infection and doesn't seem to have caught any major viruses in the meantime. Atta girl.

I called and made doctor's appointments for me and for Soren, which was a nice thought but very inconvenient, since they were half an hour apart at offices in two different cities. I would pay good money, incidentally, to have the pediatrician swab me for strep after taking a look at Soren. It would have saved us so much hassle. I mean, I understand why the doctor can't examine someone who isn't his patient, but that won't stop me from complaining about it.

So, yeah, I made appointments for the afternoon. In the meantime, I decided to try out the only place where someone would see both of us at the same time: "Express" Care. I should really put more quotes around that word. I guess it's technically faster than waiting for a doctor to randomly wander into your home and ask you what's wrong, but there's really nothing Express about it.

Here is the part of the story, however, where I stop complaining and start throwing praise around like it's going out of style. My two children were absolute angels while we waited a million years to be seen at the clinic. I am especially proud of Soren, who can actually make a conscious decision whether or not he wants to be good, and chose goodness despite being sick AND missing his nap. He sat nicely in the chair next to me for a while, playing with trucks, then played with trucks on the floor, then took off for the door while I was nursing Sigrid (okay, that part wasn't so good, but a helpful stranger stopped him from escaping), and then serenaded a really old guy with a charming rendition of Old MacDonald.

We were there for 2.5 hours before finally giving up and going to our appointments (Chris was good enough to come home early and take Soren to his doctor). In the end, I was a little annoyed that we waited there for nothing, but since Soren was playing happily the whole time, it almost felt like I could classify it as our outing for the day. It's just as well, since we can't really go anywhere that's actually fun until we stop shedding horrible pathogens.

As an added bonus, he likes the bubble-gum flavored amoxicillin, so there are no fights about taking his medicine. And he swallows it, unlike Sigrid, who seems to enjoy the flavor so much that she grins hugely and lets it all dribble out of her mouth. Sigh.

For Your Amusement

A limerick, inspired by Sigrid's ear infection:

There once was a doctor named Titus
Whose laughter was boist'rous and riotous
He about blew a gasket
When a patient once askéd
"Tell me, why does my ear hurt, O Titus?"

Go Ahead. Guess Where I Was Yesterday.

No, really!!!! Guess!!!!!!!!! I will give you ten million dollars if you guess wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!

All the exclamation points are probably a clue to the level of crazy to which I have been pushed. Yes, friends, the answer is: The Hospital. &*^#$%*&^#$%

Sigrid was absolutely inconsolable yesterday morning, except at a few key points which I will get to later. Mainly, she was screaming a lot and refusing to nurse. So we called the pediatrician's office and got an appointment to come right in. Yes, on a Sunday! How sweet is that? A very nice feature. But you know what would be a nicer feature of this particular office? If the pediatrician on duty would actually do a thorough freaking examination before deciding she doesn't know what's wrong, but since Sigrid is clearly miserable, she needs blood work and a spinal tap (SPINAL TAP) and should be taken to the ER.

When a baby is miserable for no apparently acute reason (i.e. no wounds or broken bones), it's probably one of a few things: ear infection, UTI, or hair tourniquet. The doctor barely looked at Sigrid's ears, mentioned the possibility of a UTI but didn't do anything about it, and never even looked for a hair tourniquet (I didn't look either, but I'd forgotten about that possibility -- the ER nurse did a thorough hair-tourniquet search, though). I was a little too frazzled by the screaming baby to realize how half-assed the exam was, so when the doctor said we should go to the ER, I figured it was just the way my universe has been working lately, so I went.

When we got there, there were two kids in hospital beds IN THE WAITING ROOM. And a million other people in chairs. This was pretty much looking like a six-hour wait, which I've experienced before, and it's not fun, especially with no food or distractions -- I hadn't exactly planned for this when leaving the house.

I went up to the registration desk, and of course, Sigrid was sleeping peacefully at this point. Babies are a lot like cars that way. They work great when you bring them to the mechanic. The nurse asks why we're there, and I have to explain that it's because my daughter is inconsolable, except for the fact that she's, you know, sleeping peacefully. So I look like an idiot. Great. And there's always the possibility that I AM an idiot, and she was just a little fussy and is fine now, and I'll be sitting in the ER waiting room for no reason. Kind of like the person next to me, who was there because her four-year-old had a 1/2" cut on his forehead that wasn't even actively bleeding. Maybe she just really wanted to get out of a Super Bowl party or something.

Luckily (?), Sigrid started crying again right on cue when she was taken into triage, so we managed to convince the nurse that there was probably something wrong. She was having trouble settling Sigrid down enough to hear lung sounds (the non-screaming kind of lung sounds, anyway), so she called in another nurse with a Baby Whisperer reputation, and that nurse did an OK job of quieting Sigrid down, but then pissed me off by suggesting that it was probably gas. Everyone blames crying on gas. Whatever.

There was a lovely moment in all this, though: after I'd been walking around with poor screaming Schkernky for a while, a woman came up and gave me a bottle of water, totally out of the blue. That was really kind. I'll have to pay that forward.

And more kindness: Chris drove all the way up to the hospital with food and distractions (knitting, video games) for me even though it was Soren's nap time and there was a risk of wrecking the rest of the day by screwing up his nap. Thank you, dear. I'll plan on paying that back rather than forward.

After not too terribly wrong -- perhaps they wanted to move the screaming to a different room? -- we got a triage room in the back and were seen fairly promptly by a doctor. This doctor did wacky things like cleaning the wax out of Sigrid's ears so she could actually SEE something with the otoscope! How crazy! During the ear cleaning, the screaming increased a hundredfold, which was a clue to the problem, and then the doctor finally saw that there was inflammation and gross stuff in there, so it was ruled to be an ear infection with ruptured tympanic membrane, which sounds awful but is apparently routine. Some Tylenol, bubble-gum flavored antibiotics, and we were on our way. Except for a crappy period today when I waited too long to give Sigrid her dose of Tylenol, she's been feeling better. End of story. All's well that ends well. Oh, except for the four-hour wait and hundred-dollar copay that we could have been spared if the pediatrician had examined Sigrid's ears. Right. I was holding on to my anger about that long enough to blog about it, and now I think I can let go. Closure is a beautiful thing.

Happily, we got to go up to Brian and Edith's house for a Super Bowl party in the evening! It was really nice to get out of the house and see friends and eat pigs in blankets. Much nicer than being at the hospital.