teeth time?

Well, there's no way to be certain whether Lucy is awake at night because she's getting some teeth. If only she were getting some words--that would be most helpful. All I know is that sleep is a precious commodity, one I seem not to be able to afford at the moment. If I could buy three hours of connected sleep, I would. If only. 

Lucy had to have some surprise up her little sleeve, though. Being the fourth child isn't interesting unless you can keep your parents guessing a bit. I remember when Iain was a baby, thinking that he never stumped me. Even his dramatic visit to hospital at thirteen days old, which included a spinal tap, chest x-ray and 48 hours of IV antibiotics (while remaining in hospital) did not puzzle me. I was grateful for my experience with Anna in the cardiac ICU, which made the whole hospital ordeal psychologically manageable. Not that it was easy, of course--just manageable.

Thankfully. Lucy presents us with challenges of a less dramatic, if more exhausting kind. Often, I put her down between  9 and 10, and crawl into bed myself, absolutely shattered, only to have her wake up at 11.30 and not let me put her down again. All night. If I am lucky, she'll lie down with me for a bit and I can catch a few minutes of horizontal sleep. But only if I am really lucky. 

We're thinking it's teeth. There is physical evidence to support this hypothesis. So we've got the calpol (tylenol) and bonjela (whose US equivalent I've forgotten--but it goes on her gums directly). She seems to be a bit better with these interventions.

And me? Could you pass me that bottle of syrah, please, and tell me that this will pass? 

Birthday season

Thankfully, we've survived birthday season once again. Anna is 10, Thomas is 8, and Iain is 5. I would love to offer a full report with photos, but Lucy, who is now nearly 6 months old, has other ideas about what to do with my fingers and the keyboard--and anything else within her reach. 

It is wild, relentless, messy, exhausting and noisy. (See photo.) But I realize, in my better moments, that these are good times, and that (in the words of a country song that played on the radio when I was in Atlanta) I am going to miss this. So, off the computer and back into the fray, before there's drool on the keyboard.

driving in England

If I ever decide to write a memoir about my experience of moving to Britain, I will title it, 'Driving in England'. Driving is an apt metaphor, for me, for all that's unsettling about being an American in the UK. Last Friday, I got completely lost trying to find an address in Consett. I would have given up, except that I was looking for the house of the person from whom I bought (on eBay), Iain's birthday present: one wooden pirate ship, complete with canvas sails and wooden pirate figures.

Between setting out and finding the house I (a) nearly ran out of gas (um, sorry, petrol), (b) got lost, and (c) had a flat tire. No, I don't know how to change a flat tire. And yes, I was lost when I got the flat tire. No, I didn't have the AA (that would be AAA in the US) card with me. Fortunately Lucy was asleep in the back.  Even more fortunately, I stopped opposite two men laying large blocks to form a curb (or is it a kerb?) along a new, residential street. It was fortunate because even as I was on the phone to Lewis (who was at home working, while I was out with the car, yes, the one car), one of them tapped on the window and asked if I needed some help.

Did I ever. The two of them changed the tire for me in something like no time flat, amazingly. But then, they seemed like the sort of guys who were competent at that sort of thing. And I do mean that as a compliment of the highest order, since I am the sort of girl who is, shamefully, woefully incompetent at that sort of thing. As I drove away, I thought to myself that if I ever do write that memoir, I may just dedicate it to the two men who changed my flat tire.

If driving in England has been something of a challenge, the people who have stopped to help me with my various kinds of flat tires have made it possible for me to stay on the road. To those kind strangers, some of whom are now friends, I will always be grateful.

I will let you know how Iain likes his pirate ship.

Anna looks even better now that the IV's are all out; yesterday she came off oxygen for the day. At night she still requires a little bit, so the doctors won't let her come home today. She should be home by the weekend, though, after just over two weeks in hospital!

Anna keeps us on our toes

We had a lovely time in Cornwall, but it must be said that Anna was a bit under the weather by the time we were heading home. Monday we took her to the doctor and he prescribed some antibiotics. If you've ever been around when we've tried to give Anna oral medications, you know how much fun antibiotics three times a day are. Despite the medicine, she was still coughing awfully and running a fever. Wednesday we knew something was not right (sparing you the details) and took her to the emergency room to be checked out.

The short version of the story is that she has pneumonia and needs some oxygen to keep her blood oxygen levels up. The longer version of the story would involve details about the three different hospitals she's been in and the various specialists (consultants) who have been called in to see her. We're just glad she seems to be getting better and hope to get her back home in a couple of days.

It's a pretty stressful time for us, but I imagine we'll survive, once again.

holiday 2011

We decided to take the long trek down to Cornwall this year, to see the sea and hopefully get some sunshine. Thankfully, we had plenty of both and a marvelous time playing on the beach and seeing some of the sights. We even took a short boat ride, which both boys especially enjoyed.

But one picture is worth a thousand words, or so the saying goes. Click the link to see the photos!

Next up: Cornwall

That's right. If you're familiar with English geography, you'll know that Cornwall is a long way from Durham. We're hoping for a bit of sunshine, and planning to see the sea (whether or not the sun is shining on it).

If you're wondering how we're going to keep the children occupied in the car...

Yeah, me too. We'll keep you posted.