Better Safe Than Sorry

OK. Not all our adventures here are all that fun.

Better Safe Than Sorry: So, we heard those words a few more time than we'd like last weekend.

Owen spiked a 101F/38.5C fever on Thursday night, and after several doses of Calpol (Britain's miracle drug), it still wasn't breaking. So, we called the doctor. He said, bring him in. Better safe than sorry.

We sped down to the clinic as they were closing at 12:30pm. We arrived at 12:29pm. The GP examined Owen, figured it was probably just a bug. She found a miniscule dot on his leg, and thought we should go see the pediatrician (here, that means go to A&E, Accident & Emergency.) Better safe than sorry.

I drag Margot and Owen over to A&E. The man next to us is dripping some gross liquids from his body. We move to new seats. Luckily Owen is called right away. His fever is now around 100F/37C so that's good. They examine him at length: cranky, skin is mottled and random, tiny dot on his leg (seriously, smaller than a pinprick). They decide I should collect his urine to rule out a urinary tract infection. This process involves me nursing a wriggling baby while holding a plastic cup over his privates. Are they serious? When he lets loose, I'm supposed to catch it. Needless to say, the first time he pees, it goes all over my shirt (did I mention I ran out of the house in my PJs?). So, we have to keep feeding him. Margot finds this hysterical. We finally catch some pee in the cup. Test results: negative. Better safe than sorry.

Next, they decide we need to take some blood. Margot has run through all the snacks in the diaper bag and is starving. We didn't get to have lunch. The student nurse has to distract her by blowing up rubber gloves and floating them around. I have to hold Owen down while they extract vial after vial of blood. He's miserable. I'm miserable. Margot is having a blast. This takes forever. They are going to run some cultures to test for infection. Better safe than sorry.

I finally break and ask Andy to come meet us at the hospital.

As he's still cranky, the doctor wants to talk to me. Who wouldn't be cranky? Every time he falls asleep, they come back in to test his blood or poke at him. She wants to do a lumbar tap to rule out meningitis. What? At this point, Margot & I are both running on extremely low blood sugar. Andy is on his way. They tell me and Margot to leave him for 10 minutes as most parents can't handle their child's screams during this process. Oh, neat. We kiss Owen and run outside where we find Andy. When we return, Owen is snuggling the nurse getting his first round of antibiotics. They say, we're going to admit him now. the blood test results won't be back for 12-48 hours. Better safe than sorry.

We're led upstairs to a private room on the pediatric ward. This is a big deal as most everyone else is just in a big room separated by curtains. We're left there for a long time. Andy takes Margot home for some food and a nap. His first meningitis results are negative. Phew. Didn't really think that was the problem anyway.

We end having to stay for 48 hours in the hospital. They won't let us leave until all his results are back. Owen is a trooper. He's on an IV all night Friday. We nurse, nurse, nurse. He keeps most of it down. His fever goes down. He starts smiling a lot. Margot manages to take over the children's ward - hoarding all the toys in our room. I have to keep telling her to share them with the sick children. Sheesh. Andy & Margot bring us edible food and come play with us for moral support. They give him more antibiotics Saturday. By Sunday, all results are clean and they let us leave. Thank God. We're just to keep an eye on him for the next few days. Better safe than sorry.

So, we're home. We're exhausted. Owen is fine. Margot wants to go back to the hospital to "play."

Glad we're all together and thankful that this is a rare occurrence for us.

The Dollar Stinks

The dollar : pound exchange rate is now more than 2 : 1. Wow, that stinks.

Owen: 3 months and growing...

Owen is twelve weeks now and real charmer. The screaming seems to be stopping (oh please, don't let me jinx myself.) Not sure what he weighs these days, but it seems like a lot.

We spent a beautiful Sunday hiking and picnicking in the Heath.

Check out our photos here.

Margot the Groupie

On Easter Monday, we took Margot to her first concert, Dan Zanes and Friends. He's a fantastic musician who plays family music (he's the Anti-Wiggles) that's a total blast for kids and parents don't want to open an artery.

Anyway, he's from Brooklyn and we were very psyched he was coming. We emailed him a song request and some suggestions for selling seats in London (his first time here). So, they invited us to hang with him backstage. Hmm, first concert: Are we setting unrealistic expectations for Margot here?

So we got there, hung backstage like a bunch of real groupies, then rocked out at the concert.


Here's Margot in the toddler mosh pic - I think she's throwing an elbow. Good girl.

Happy Easter

Good thing Natalie was here to share with us the true story of Easter. Apparently, Jesus ate rabbit at the Last Supper. That's why there's an Easter Bunny and we hunt eggs and jelly-beans.

Hmmm, maybe the kid shouldn't believe everything her father tells her.

After we got off the floor from laughing, we had a great last day with Nat. We were bummed she had to go so soon.

So, who's next?

See all our Spring Break photos.

Spring Break Part Two: Life with Nat

We had a great week with our teen-in-residence, Natalie.


On Tuesday, we dragged Nat out of bed again for a day of kiddie activities. She provided moral support as we took Margot for her 2nd haircut of her life. The mullet was reappearing and had to go. She sat on Nat's lap for the ordeal. We were just lucky the stylist didn't sever Margot's artery as she whipped her head around. Nat and Margot were rewarded with nutella crepes.

Wednesday was TopShop Day. I had to call six weeks ahead to book her personal stylist. We arrived to meet Emma. She interviewed Nat about her style preferences and sizes (really small, ugh). Then, they shopped separately, bringing back lots of items to try on in her personal dressing room. Nat didn't really need a style advisor, but ended up with tons of super cute clothes.

Thursday was zoo day. Mostly Nat chased crazy Margot all over the place. Margot liked her ice cream cone best. What animals?

On Friday we got up early and headed out to Camden Market. Andy stayed home with the tikes. Guess we were a little early for the punksters as not that much was open. Nat found a couple cute t-shirts and we had fun gawking at people. That afternoon, we all went to the Heath and hung out at the Fair. Well, until bands of hooligans got into a fight and one stabbed the other one. Seemed like a good time to leave. (The mafia would never let that happen in NY). Luckily, Margot was oblivious. Nat was craving funnel cake - they don't have that here.

Saturday morning was our Easter Hunt. Read on.

Spring Break Part One: Go Hotspurs!

Sure, you could go to Florida for Spring Break and experience that sunshine stuff. Nat decided instead to come to gloomy, rainy England to hang out with a goofy toddler and a baby who is prone to screaming for several hours a day and likes to poop through his clothes. Good move, eh?

Actually, Nat brought our first spell of balmy weather. She also had some sort of calming effect on Owen as he only screamed a little bit each day instead of his marathon sessions. Nat arrived on Saturday night, and Andy was able to claim her after signing his name in blood and swearing she wasn't some mail-order bride.

On Sunday, our friend Kurt Stemhagen arrived fresh from an academic conference in Oxford. He presented some paper - the title of which included the names of several philosophers and a colon; it must be important. We dumbed him down quickly with some lagers. Then, Andy, Natalie and Kurt headed out to our first Premiership game: Tottenham Hotspurs vs. Reading Royals.

Andy has decided to become a Hotspurs fan because they're close-by and he could score some tickets. Plus, everyone else roots for Chelsea and Arsenal. They play at White Harte Lane which seems to be even more of a dump than Shea Stadium. And, since there's a large Jewish population, the fans like to yell, "Go Yids!" (yes, their own fans yell that). You can see why Andy fit right in. It was noted that they don't sell beer until halftime, when there is a mad stampede to the beer vendors. Also, your average American couldn't fit into the seats - they're tiny.

Here's the penalty kick that gave Tottenham the win (1-0).

The game wasn't that close as Tottenham had 19 shots on goal to Reading's 3. The people around them were cool, and they didn't get trounced by any hooligans. An afternoon well spent.

On Monday morning, we dragged Natalie out of bed (a daily task) and we headed down to Westminster Abbey. Of course, the rest of the vacationing population decided to pop in as well; we could hardly move in there. It's still amazing but we hardly saw what we'd like. All that sightseeing made Owen ravenous. Nursing my baby in Westminster Abbey seemed wrong on so many levels but it had to be done. Don't worry Mimi, I was discreet.


Andy & Kurt popped into the Spaniard's Inn - one of our great local pubs - for a pint and a natter. We said goodbye to Kurt on Tuesday morning - back to Richmond, VA. Our adventures with Nat continued...