I spoke too soon

Sunday afternoon and Monday morning I did really feel like I was on the mend, prompting my last post.

But then Monday night I relapsed. My fever came back, along with cold sweats and teeth-chattering chills.

My mother, source of all scary medical stories, told me that she heard that if you were still sick after 7 days you HAD to go to the doctor. She also told me that the people who died from H1N1 bled into their lungs. Thanks mom.

Monday night, my best friend since childhood called, and when I told her about being sick, she asked if I'd been to the doctor yet. I told her that I was going to go on Tuesday because if I didn't, my mom was going to fly down here and drag me to the doctor's. BF told me she was siding with my mom and that I needed to go.

So yesterday, feeling miserable, I went to the doctor. The diagnosis? Secondary sinus infection and bronchitis. The doctor said they were seeing a lot of patients who had started out with the flu but then ended up with something else because their immune systems were down.

I'm on a z-pack of antibiotics, and the doctor promised me that I'd notice a difference within 48 hours.

Lord, I hope he's right. I'm tired of being sick.

And of course, Lily woke up this morning saying that she didn't feel well. When I told her that if she stayed home, she'd have to spend lots of time resting in bed, she pitifully said ok. She's back asleep already. I guess I'll be putting in a call to her doctor today.

The party never ends.

Mostly dead all day*

Hi there. I'm back, but just barely. This H1N1 has knocked me for a loop. I don't remember the last time I was this sick for this long. I've been in bed asleep or curled up on the sofa ignoring the kids since last Wednesday. I've left the house twice in the past week. I'm a recluse by nature, but this is a little much, even for me.

My head is still stuffed up, and I'm still running a bit of a fever, which is rare for me. But I don't feel quite as much like death warmed over as I did on Saturday, which was the worst day. I haven't eaten much in the past week and have probably lost the last five pounds of pregnancy weight that was hanging on, but I wouldn't recommend this as a diet plan.

B has kept the house and kids going, mostly. He's done lots of cooking and bathing of kids and bed-time stories, but no cleaning. Which is fair I guess - there's only so much you can ask of a man.

But now it's time for me to stop lolling around and get out of bed. I've decided I'm going to kick this bug once and for all through sheer willpower and determination. Because that always works.

Get your H1N1 vaccine when they come available. You do NOT want this bug.

*10 points to anyone who knows the reference, except for you knittergran, keeffer and runnerdude. I know y'all know it.

Day three

I'm on day three of the flu, and I don't remember the last time I felt this miserable.

The doctors here are saying that if you have the flu it's most likely H1N1. They're not even bothering to test people right now because the labs would get so backed up that it wouldn't do any good. So my doc said not to come in to the office unless I get desperately ill, which I'm not, even though I feel rotten. The doctors want people to stay home and not spread the bug.

I called the pediatrician to see about getting Tamiflu as a preventative for at least Elizabeth, but he said no. If and when any of the kids show signs of being sick, they'll prescribe it. Apparently there are concerns that the virus has already started to mutate as a result of Tamiflu being given as a preventative. Damn.

Ella was sick two weeks ago. She ran a high fever and had a headache and a horrible cough for 24 hours and then rebounded with a vengeance. I figured it was her annual bout of croup, but maybe it was H1N1 after all. The little girl who lives next door had H1N1 a week ago, and I've been waiting for my kids to get it since they were playing with her right before she got sick. So far, everyone is healthy.

I've been housebound since Tuesday night, too fuzzy headed to get any work done, which is bad because I have deadlines looming. I haven't done any laundry or housework, which means things are getting a mite grubby around here. B's been a big help with the kids, but he does still need to work. I've been napping when Elizabeth and Campbell nap and tipping into bed as soon as Elizabeth gets tucked for the night.

Here's hoping I feel better by Monday so I can get caught up and that no one else in the house gets it. Stay healthy everyone, this bug is wicked.

No Fair!

I'm taking a page from my daughters' book and crying that life isn't fair. I seem to have the flu, and it just isn't fair. I have too much to do to be sick.

I started feeling low yesterday afternoon, and by the time the kids were in bed, I knew for sure that I was getting sick. I drank a glass of vitamin C supplement and turned in early, hoping against hope to stave off illness, but no such luck.

B got up with the kids this morning and got the girls off to school, letting me sleep in until Elizabeth woke up at 7:30. As soon as I get Campbell off to preschool (thank goodness for carpools) and Elizabeth down for her morning nap, I'm crawling back into bed.

****
On another note, today is my mom's birthday. Stop by her blog and wish her many happy returns on the day. Oh how I wish was here to take care of poor sick me.

Three O'Clock!

How is it possible that three years have gone by since Campbell arrived? He had flipped himself breech some time in the three days before he was born, requiring an emergency c-section to get him out, and he hasn't stopped moving since.

Newborn little man.

First birthday, and just barely walking.

Second birthday, and not wanting to get his hands dirty with frosting.

Third birthday, with his new airplane toy.

Campbell's birthday was actually last Thursday, but we lied to him and told him it was on Friday, which was when we celebrated it. Friday morning at the breakfast table, Ella and Lily sang Happy Birthday to Campbell and then asked him how old he was. He yelled, "Three o'clock!" B and I cracked up and spent the rest of the day shouting, "Three o'clock" at random moments.

In addition to the nifty airplane set above, Campbell got railroad tracks and remote-controlled trains that go along with the airport and a new bike. His tricycle was stolen a few months ago, and Campbell's been desperate for a new bike ever since. When I carried the bike into the house, the look on Campbell's face was just priceless.

He's been on the bike pretty much ever since. We had to pull him off of it to have him blow out his birthday candles during the party with our neighbors. At 4:30 Saturday morning, he tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Peese, momom, peese. I go ride my new bitecitle? Peese?" When I told him no because it was still dark out, he said, "But I sayed peese!" I think if we'd let him, he'd sleep with his bike in bed.

Happy birthday little man. May the coming year be as good as the last one was.

And the winners are

Drumroll please . . .

With the help of my lovely husband, I have two winners, and they are

Ann in NJ

and

Cathy from The Clothesline

Congratulations. Send me an e-mail at hokgardner@gmail.com with your snail mail address, and I'll get to work.

Thank you to everyone who played along. It was nice to meet some new readers. And I'll do this again sometime soon.

Scooter-Pie

Elizabeth has resolutely refused to crawl. Actually, she has resolutely refused to spend any more time on her tummy than is necessary. I despaired of her ever being able to move around on her own.

But it turns out she just has her own way of doing things. Instead of crawling, she scoots, and she is amazingly fast at it. Forgive the darkness of the video, I was using the video feature of my little point-and-shoot camera rather than my actual video camera.

And don't forget to register for my first-ever giveaway. I'll be drawing names Thursday morning!

My first giveaway

Believe it or not, this is post number 698. I've been blogging for almost three years, and yet I still only get about 30 readers a day. I'm not sure what that says about my writing skills and my blog content. Not that I'm bitter or insecure.

To celebrate my upcoming post number 700, I've decided to hold a giveaway - I'll custom knit a little bit of fluff for two readers. Leave a comment on this post telling me what color fluff you'd like by Wednesday night. Male readers (Hi O'Pine and T!) can opt for a masculine little scarf or mittens. Actually, women can opt for mittens, too.

OK, so leave a comment telling me whether you want a bit of fluff or hand-made mittens and what color. (This contest thing is HARD!)

I'll select two random commenters Thursday morning and announce the winners in post number 700.

So all you lurkers, it's time to de-lurk yourselves.

Witness to the tragedy

I hadn't intended to write about 9/11. So many bloggers are writing about it more eloquently than I could ever hope to.

As I do every year on this day, I think back to where I was when I heard the news - at work - and how I heard about it - my mom called me at the office. Everyone in the office clustered into the A/V room, which had the only TV with cable. After the room was crammed to capacity, one of the technical guys managed to rig an extension that allowed us to bring the TV out into the main area of our division. We all stood and sat around the TV in silence, hands over our mouths or in someone else's hand.

I left the office at 1:00, like I did every day, went home, and sat in front of the TV, watching and crying. I spent much of that night awake, either watching Ella, who was 11 months old, sleep in her bed or watching TV. What I saw that day, what everyone saw, was beyond belief.

Today I hadn't planned to watch any of the documentaries or specials about that terrible, terrible day. But as I was folding laundry in my room and flipping through the channels, I stumbled upon a documentary on the History Channel that was riveting.

It's called "102 Minutes" and it is made up entirely of archived footage shot by dozens of average people and professional cameramen on the streets and in their apartments showing what was happening as it happened. Some of the footage was shot by students living blocks from the WTC, some by people living a mile north. One cameraman was at Times Square, and he did nothing but film the people watching the events unfold on the big TV there. The shock and disbelief on their faces mirrored what I remember feeling that day.

The worst part was watching the footage of the firemen walking towards the buildings, carrying their gear and hoses and wanting to scream at them to stop and turn around. Knowing what was in store for them was unbearable.

A lot of the footage is of the aftermath, of people walking out of the smoke and debris, covered in ashes and soot, grey and gasping for air. The silence in all of the scenes is stunning. No one was screaming or yelling, just watching and moving in silence.

One man, who was in an apartment four blocks from the Trade Center, filmed the firemen who escaped as they staggered into his building, covered in debris and totally in shock. He helped them make phone calls to their families before the lines went dead.

The documentary has no narration, other than the voices of the people in the films, which is what makes it so powerful. The commentary of the people on the streets, the people watching it happen, truly conveys the shock and horror.

I hadn't intended to watch the whole film, and I set the DVR to record it, but I couldn't bring myself to turn it off. Now that I've seen the entire documentary, I'm not sure I can ever watch it again, or if I even want to.

I do know that I probably won't sleep much tonight, but that's ok. We should remember what happened on September 11, and we should take time out of our lives to think about those who lost loved ones, about those who walked into the building when others were walking out, about those who worked for months and months afterwards searching the wreckage to provide answers. We should also think about those who have been injured and killed in the two wars that were started as a result of September 11.

The effects of that day are still being felt now, eight years later.

Bits of Fluff and a Cozy

Now that the big girls are in school all day and Campbell is in school three mornings a week, I've been knitting a lot. Unfortunately, work has picked back up, so my knitting productivity may take a dive. There are always sacrifices to be made - I have to make money in order to buy more yarn. Sigh.

Here are three lacey bits of fluff from a pattern in a book called Last Minute Knitted Gifts. They look like lace, but really they are simple garter stitch on size 10 needles with some yarn overs every 10 rows. The one on the left is Rowan Kidsilk Haze, the one in the middle is a mystery because I can't find the ball band, and the one on the right is Rowan Kidsilk Night. You can't tell from the picture, but the Kidsilk Night actually has a little bit of silver threaded through, which gives it just the right amount of sparkle. I plan to always have one of these on the needle because they make the perfect little gift and don't take long to knit.

My boss when I worked at the Attorney General's office retired a year ago. She is a confirmed tea drinker with a collection of beautiful tea pots. I promised to knit her a tea cozy as a retirement present, and I finally made good on my promise. Elizabeth and I went to her house for swimming, lunch, and tea last week, and I was able to deliver the tea cozy. This was the first time I'd attempted intarsia, and I was mostly successful, as long as no one looks closely at the inside of the cozy. The little tea pot pad was so much fun to knit. It's knit on straight needles, with four sets of double k2togs every other row. It turns into a square in front of your eyes as you knit. At the end, you just have to sew up one teeny seem, et voila.

Right now I have a baby hat, a knitted gift bag and a pair of socks on the needle, and I'm knitting away on the hat and the bag to avoid working on the socks. I don't like the yarn, and I don't like the pattern, but I'm on the toe of the first sock, so it's too late to frog it all back. One of these days, I will have to suck it up and finish the damn things, mostly because I need the needles.