February 2013 – Page 2 – robinchartier

Another one bites the dust

Caleb has stayed healthy all through the fever/cough epidemic of 2013. Until yesterday. He woke up with a fever of 103.5, was given medicine, and sent back to bed. I’m tempted to change the name of my blog to Three Doses of Motrin since it feels like that’s all I’ve been writing about lately. What is it like to be living in Bahrain? I have no idea since I’ve been mostly quarantined to the house or car for the last few weeks.

Ironically, where am I writing this post? From the waiting room at the Navy Medical Clinic, but not because of Caleb. Last night girlie started running a fever again (4th time in 3 weeks) so I had to bring her in to see if we could finally get to the bottom of this. The pediatrician is positive it’s a sinus infection. Which makes my googling of “leukemia symptoms in toddlers” last night seem a little ridiculous.

waiting for drugs!

Camille was on antibiotics before (after week 1), but it was discovered later that she was prescribed the incorrect dose for her weight, so it wasn’t doing anything. But the fact that she was on antibiotics and wasn’t getting better confused the issue which is why she’s still sick almost a month later. I’m hoping this new antibiotic will kick it once and for all and I can start writing about Bahrain and stop writing about fevers and coughs.

magic carpet

Last night I was so excited that I was finally getting out of the house to do something fun to blog about. Camille’s fever was gone and our friends were hosting a “rug flop.” A rug flop is exactly what it sounds like. A carpet dealer brings 80 plus carpets to a home and people gather around while he rolls them out one at a time, telling everyone what kind (wool, silk, etc), where it is from (Iran, Pakistan, India, etc), and anything else that is special about it (the family who made it, if it’s extra old — that’s a good thing, surprisingly, and how many knots it has per square inch).

BUT, we got there and while the carpet guy was bringing carpet after carpet into the house, setting up for the display, the grownups ate and chatted while the kids played outside. After about an hour a friend mentioned she hadn’t seen her son in a while and it triggered in my brain that I hadn’t seen Caleb in a while either. There were about 60 people at the party so it took a few minutes to determine that they were still playing outside and hadn’t come in to eat. We sent some of our boys out into the neighborhood to track them down (they are best friends and we knew they were together) and waited for their return. The kids came back, but no Caleb (or the other 2 boys he was with). I thought our search party might have missed them as they were going around the block so I got Josh to walk the streets to track them down. He came back 10 minutes later — nothing.

Then all the kids started to get worried so they set off on bikes and scooters and on foot to cover every square inch of the neighborhood yelling, “Caleb! Levi! Caleb!” (3 boys, 2 names.) I stayed in the front yard to see if they ended up back at the house (we had already checked back bedrooms and saw that their shoes weren’t by the front door so they were somewhere outside). The party took place inside a gated community so we knew they had to be somewhere nearby, right?!

While I was stressing about my missing kid, the carpet viewing started inside. I could hear people oohing and ahhing as he rolled out the carpets one by one while I vacillated between fear and frustration. I knew he was OK, but at the same time, my brain couldn’t reconcile if he were ok, why he wouldn’t answer when he heard people calling his name. So maybe he wasn’t ok. Maybe all 3 boys were trapped in a drainpipe somewhere and we couldn’t hear them yelling for help (totally illogical, since there is no such thing as drainage here, but whatever).

I finally went to the hostess of the party (mom of one of the missing boys) and told her we couldn’t find them. She decided to get on her bike to see if she could track them down (it was well past dark by that time). She headed out while I waited, meanwhile listening to all the kids yelling “Caleb! Levi! Caleb!”

A few minutes later mom on the bike was back with 3 very sweaty children. What had they been doing? Working out in the neighborhood gym. When she peeked in the room the 3 of them had their shirts off, running on the treadmill, tossing and catching medicine balls, and hula hooping. They couldn’t hear everyone calling for them because they had the treadmill turned up to 18. Good grief.

After that ordeal I was hardly in the mood for carpet shopping and picture taking, thus no photos from the party. I was able to go back inside and gradually began to enjoy the rest of the evening as the adrenaline wore off. It helped that we made Caleb sit in one place for 45 minutes — for as long as he had me worried — so I didn’t have to worry about his whereabouts after that.

The carpets are initially rolled out to be viewed, but no prices. Then when the carpet dealer has them all rolled out (in a stack that is about waist high) he takes them one by one, names the price and if someone is interested it is folded and put in a pile next to that person. If no one is interested in a particular carpet, it is rolled up and put back in the stack to go back on the truck. The prices ranged from $170 to $6900 (just one carpet, the next highest price was $3000). I would say the average price of the carpets was around $800.

We did end up with a carpet after all (our very first). It’s 100% wool on wool and was less than $300.

At that price we know we’re not getting top quality (less knots per square inch, etc), but at that price we don’t worry about the dog or kids walking all over it either.

Report Card

I had to take Camille back to the doctor today since she was so hot and out of sorts I knew the antibiotics couldn’t possibly be working (they weren’t). She’s been sick for 2 weeks — off and on, but more on than off.

After the trip to the doctor, this is what the rest of our day looked like.
They don’t know what’s wrong, possibly a “mystery virus.”

While I give myself a “D” in Health, I think I’ve earned a B+ in Botany. My garden is looking great and my next wave of plants is starting to sprout. I would have given myself an “A” except I didn’t label my pots so I’m guessing at what is growing based on leaf shape and what I think I remember planting.

Meanwhile, the cherry tomatoes are going crazy

and I have 7 eggplants on one bush.

These are my favorite cherry tomatoes — a little larger than the other ones and they have a bit more acid to them. More of a bite and a little less sweet.

Mint is spilling over the edge of the pot on the pillar and my big basil bush is in the brown and green ceramic pot in background on the left. I didn’t do much for tying up the tomatoes so they are spilling all over. I’ll have to figure out a way to cage them next year.

And the final grades of the day are for Carter, who brought home his first semester report card declaring, “I did awesome. I only got one ‘C’ this time.” He also pointed out that he went from a C- to a C+ which, he explained, was even more impressive.

He did not get his laissez faire attitude toward school from me or his dad and God bless him for it. He has a wonderfully fine-tuned sense of cost/benefit and in his world, mostly As and Bs are good enough. I wish it had been in mine. Since he appears to have dodged the bullet known as Mom’s neurotic tendencies, I’d say he’s going to get an ‘A’ in Life.

Seriously?

Day 6 of antibiotics and she started running another fever tonight. I give up.

At least she has her favorite guy to snuggle with.

Superbowl Monday

When we found out the SF 49ers were going to the Superbowl, Josh looked at our cable provider’s guide/website/not sure exactly what he did — whatever, and found that they would be airing the Superbowl live over here. I grew up on the West coast where the game always started around 4pm so my rough mental math skills figured out that meant 3am in Bahrain. Um, I’m out.

We actually aren’t huge football fans — the capability is hidden there somewhere inside me; there have been periods of my life where I was a good fan and followed the game, but I think the last time I watched American football was when we lived stateside (I actually prefer college football because it’s more unpredictable and because they don’t have that stupid overtime rule of whoever kicks a field goal first wins). But more often than not, in my post-kids life, a game is an opportunity for me to have uninterrupted knitting, quilting or gardening time.

But with the boys getting older, much of the fun of sports is their enthusiasm, so Josh decided to have a middle of the night Superbowl party with them. They bought popcorn, chips, soda and other football appropriate snacks and then went to bed at 8pm. Josh woke them up at 2:30 so they were all settled in front of the TV in time for kickoff.

When I woke up at 6:15 to shouts of HOLDING!! and WHERE’S THE FLAG, REF!?! I couldn’t believe the game was still going. And then I heard the entire story through sleep filled eyes: about the horrible first half, Beyonce, the long power outage, and then the triumphant return in the second half only to have the victory ripped out of the Niner’s hands by an incomplete pass caused by the defense grabbing on to someone’s jersey. The power outage must have been orchestrated by someone who knew our schedule because the game ended right as it was time to brush teeth and head outside to catch the bus. No need to debate whether to go back to sleep for 30 minutes or tough it out.

Since I was asleep, I obviously don’t have any photos of their party, but after the boys went off to school, we had our own party/breakfast at Lilou’s. Josh had the day off because some very kind and wise people decided that people staying up all night to watch the Superbowl should be able to sleep in and recover during the day. Josh took a few hour nap, then the 3 of us went to brunch.

She’s totally eyeing the chocolate dust on my cappuccino.

Have I mentioned how amazing the orange juice is here? All the juices are basically fruit thrown in a crusher then poured in a glass. They taste like you’re taking bites of the fruit itself.

We get cappuccinos and she eats our chocolates that come on the side.

After breakfast, we went to restock our kitchen at the new, beautiful grocery store near our house. On the upper floor they have a play place shaped like a pirate ship and an arcade. I think the boys are going to want to play this one . . .