A (Not-So-)Surprise Ear Infection

We picked the Leatherkids up at school just after 6pm yesterday.  Same drill -- we entered the building together, I headed directly to Ella's empty classroom to get her backpack and Dan headed directly to the one room in the front where the remaining kids were congregated to see the rest of the day out.  As I headed back down the hallway from Ella's classroom, I saw Dan emerge from the front classroom playfully holding Ella over his shoulder.  She was laughing, and he was calling for Cal who had started down the other hallway to find me.

The Leatherkids -- and Leatherdaddy -- were in good spirits.  Dan put Ella down so she could walk out the door and to the car herself, and she actually did so without complaint... well, without complaint about having to walk to the car on her own two legs.  Her feet had barely hit the floor of the entryway (exitway?) to the school when she said this in her whiny Ella way:

"My hear hurts," and she held her hand to her left ear as she said it.

Oh, no.  We got in the car and headed the few blocks home.  I was barely inside the door and already calling our pediatrician's office, intending on getting her in to see a doctor that evening.  They close at 8pm.  I talked to the receptionist who took our information and told me a nurse would call me back shortly, which she did.

Any other symptoms?  Yes, a cough for a few weeks.  Anything else?  No.  No fever?  No. Runny nose, right?  No (I even put my finger on her upper lip hoping there'd be some sign of mucus, but none.  How long has her ear hurt?  Today (a white lie).

The nurse recommended waiting it out.  We could give her Tylenol for pain.  We could try a cold compress on Ella's ear for 20 minutes (yeah, right -- has she ever held a cold compress on a young child for longer than 3 minutes?).  She then asked me if I was comfortable with that, and I don't even remember how I answered it other than being really wishy-washy and not completely sold on the approach.

"Otherwise, the only thing we have is a 7:35, which she'll probably be really tired by then," she told me.

I looked at Dan and asked him if we should take it (as if I really was asking him because I knew we'd be taking it); and he was fully on board with taking our "tired" kid to that "late" appointment.  I told the nurse that we'd be there.

Dan and I both knew that Ella had an ear infection.  Heck, Ella knew it.  She's a real pansy about a lot of stuff -- her legs always hurt or are tired, she needs a band-aid for a boo-boo on her finger not seeable by the naked eye but one that really hurts, she doubles over in pain anytime Cal brushes up against her -- but when it comes to her ears, she's always spot on and never misleads us.

Ear infections are how colds manifest themselves in Ella.  And as if we needed any backup, she'd been coughing for a few weeks -- of course she had an ear infection!

So Ella and I were at the pediatrician's office in time for our 7:35 appt.  It might have been only 7:43 and we were leaving the building with a plan to head to Walgreens to pick up her antibiotic to battle her ear infection, confirmed by our pediatrician to be just that.

She got her first dose of the antibiotic last night and second one this morning before heading to school.  As we got ready for work this morning, Ella spent some time in mine and Dan's bathroom with us.  "I'm going to tell  Ms. Tewana that I'm taking medicine."

Dan and I both immediately responded that she didn't need to do that, that she could just keep it to herself.  I don't think we're breaking any rules sending her to school with an ear infection but no fever, but better to be safe than sorry.  I'm sure by now (8:13am), she's already told Ms. Tewana about it.  Oh, well, I'm just happy we got some antibiotics for it so no one -- Ella, Daddy, Cal, me... even our cat, Zoe -- have to suffer.

This Morning

I'm a sweaty mess on the train right now.  It's not ideal or desirable, but I'm not complaining.  That I'm even on this train is nothing short of a miracle.  You see, 52 minutes before the train left the station, I was waking up (after my alarm!) and jumping out of bed.  And I was the first Leatherman to do so this morning.

And I credit myself entirely for making it happen as I masterfully managed my kids out of their beds, into their clothes, into their shoes and out the door like only their mother could do.  Here's how it went down:

I brushed my teeth as the shower warmed up and then hopped in said shower.  It wasn't a quick one -- I don't know why -- but when I got out, I threw a cami and a skirt on and headed to Cal's room to wake him up.  He was awake.  I kissed him and told him softly that it was time to get up.

I headed to Ella's room where I found her wrapped in Blue Blankie (her coveted baby blanket) like a little burrito... so I told her this.  "You look like a little burrito," I said.  And then making little munching sounds I added, "I'm going to eat you up," and proceeded to pretend munch her face, which was really more like little kisses.  And then -- and this was brilliant -- I said, "look, Ellie, Zoe's here!  She slept with you all night!"  Ella loves Zoe, our kitty, and especially loves that she chooses to sleep with her.  Ella immediately sat up in bed.

And then I left to continue to get myself ready.  Dan was up and in the shower himself.  I looked at my watch -- 7:02am.  We needed to be out the door in 9 minutes if we were to comfortably make the train, and by "comfortably" I mean my definition of "comfortably" (with a little running) and not Dan's (no running).  It was at this point that I had to decide -- make the 7:32 or give in and make the 7:52.  I chose the former and headed back to motivate the kids.

Cal was already up, dressed and heading downstairs.  I looked down at him and told him, "good job, Baby, when you get downstairs, put your shoes on right away."  He said he would, and I sort of believed him.  Cal's definition of "right away" doesn't always match mine.

Ella was still frolicking in her bed with Zoe, so I walked in and asked, "I'll get your dress, Baby Girl.  Which one do you want to wear?"  With no answer, I held up one and asked, "how 'bout this one?"

"No," Ella said and paused.  "I want the one with color that's white."  Whaaaaaa does that mean?  Ella sensed my confusion and added, pointing to her arm, "it's like the color of my skin."

With that, I knew the exact dress she wanted and pulled it out of her closet.  And somehow, I don't really even know how I did this, I got her to cooperate getting out of her jammies and into this dress, with me helping her along the way.  Ordinarily, we encourage independent dressing; today, I needed to get out the door, so I did most of the dressing.

She complained about her leg hurting, so, yes, I carried her back to my room to see Daddy and for me to get my earrings and put my hair up.  Magically, maybe from Daddy's morning kiss, her leg healed while I was doing my hair, and she headed downstairs herself.

When I headed down the stairs, Cal had one shoe on and was putting on the other.  Ella was actually pulling her Crocs out of our shoe bin.  And Dan was getting his wallet and phone from the kitchen.  It was 7:10am.  This was going to happen.

I packed my laptop and folder into my backpack.  I then offered to stuff Ella's stuffed animals in her backpack while she put her shoes on, and she took me up on it.  I grabbed Cal's lunch from the fridge (thankfully, I had made it last night) and handed it to him hurriedly.  And we all shuffled out the door.

By the time we were backing out of the garage, it was 7:13am.  We arrived at school at 7:16am, where I announced that we'd need "an efficient drop-off, Leatherkids," which we got because we were pulling out of the school parking lot by 7:18am.  With some strategic maneuvering of the car, taking what traffic gave me, I got us to the train station in a parking spot by 7:30am -- leaving a couple of minutes to run to the station from what seems like a mile away (it's probably .2 miles), pay for parking (at a slow machine) and hop on the train.

I did it.  Sweat was dripping down my back and beading on my forehead, but I did it.  I had to do it.  With that cooperation from the Leatherkids, I had to make that train.  

Our Trip to the Apple Orchard... in Words and Pictures

The most delicious apples I've ever had
(this year's Yellow Delicious)

Four years ago, cousin Julie discovered what I believe is a hidden gem about an hour west of where we live.  It's an apple orchard, very manageable to navigate and open free to the public.  We went with Julie that year and have made it a point to go every year since.  It's become a late-September/early-October tradition, depending upon weather and other plans; and today was a perfect day to make our 2015 trek there. 

There is nothing terribly fancy about this orchard like the

Corner of haystack maze (with Ella and Cal
on top -- this is probably the Leatherkids'
favorite feature of this orchard

stuff you'll find at some of the other well-advertised, pay-to-get-in, monster-sized pumpkin patches (and I assume apple orchards) in the area, but it really doesn't need to be fancy as far as the Leatherkids are concerned. Our orchard has a small haystack maze that kids most enjoy by running on top of and jumping across the haystacks.  Our orchard has a donkey and a couple of goats, two unusual animal types (that sometimes make some interesting noises) that kids find intriguing. Our orchard sells the tastiest, homemade apple cider donuts as well as some cider and homemade fruit pies which you can either buy and take home or just drink and eat at our orchard.  Our orchard has pumpkins, raspberries and, of course, apples... lots of apples.

Ella and me on the hayride --
I wish the ride had been
longer because I did enjoy
this cuddle time with her

There are many types of apples at our orchard, all reachable either by foot on a short hike or by hayride (pulled by a tractor), which most people choose to ride.  You don't have to actually purchase anything to enjoy our orchard and eat some apples; but we generally do buy a bag to do the "u-pick," (which, as its name suggests, means we get to pick our own apples).  Today, with our 10-pound-capacity bag in Dan's pocket, we hopped on the trailer with blocks of hay as seats and sat down with a few other families for our brief ride to the apple trees.  Before we left, the older gentleman driving the tractor gave us his schpeel about what apples were in season and where we'd find them.  Our choices today were pretty much the "Delicious" variety, both Yellow and Red.

Cal getting some height from
Daddy to reach a good-looking
apple higher in the tree

The tractor dropped us off at the in-season trees and we proceeded to pick and taste.  Ella and I started with the Red Delicious, which were just okay.  As we finished our first apples, we walked a few steps to meet up with Dan and Cal at the Yellow Delicious (maybe 20 steps away).  I tossed my red core and picked a yellow.  With the first bite I declared that it was the most delicious apple I'd ever tasted (I was not kidding).  "I'd eat apples all the time if I could count on them being this delicious," I declared.  "We're going to get only these, right?"  Dan agreed.

Cal eating his second apple
from the side of his mouth

Ella eating her first yellow
apple with her right canine
doing most of the hard work

I think it's so excellent to be able to pick an apple and just eat it right off the tree, so I took full advantage of being at the orchard where we can do this and, at the risk of pooping a lot later, ate five of them. I also enjoy watching the Leatherkids do it.  This year was a particularly fun watch because both are missing front teeth (Ella two, Cal one), which, I figure are usually pretty important apple-eating tools.  Somehow they managed and ate a few apples they picked directly from the trees themselves.

The Leatherkids with their
pumpkins - my sister would
be proud of Cal for picking
that pumkin

We filled our bag quickly and started walking to the pumpkin patch we had passed on our way to the apple trees.  It was a short walk and the right direction for making our way back to the barn where we had started.  Last year, we missed apple-purchasing season but still went to this orchard to pick a pumpkin.  At $.35/pound and just fun to choose a pumpkin from the vine instead of a shelf in a grocery store, we had to get some pumpkins at our orchard.  We really didn't spend much time in the pumpkin patch.  Dan found one really quickly (it was a nice pumpkin, even from a distance).  Ella found one that she could carry -- it had a good shape and the unique characteristic of a long stem.  I really have no words for the pumpkin Cal chose.  Small?  Cute?  Nasty green colored?  Perhaps subconsciously he's acting on some deep-rooted Reiter genes that "feel sorry" for unappealing or flawed inanimate objects and purchase them for that reason alone.  Or perhaps he's just a goof.

View of the barn from the pumpkin patch

Rasperry patch near the barn; Dan and Ella are on the path (not sure
where Cal is)

View of the apple trees from the start of the path that led us there

Pumpkins in hand, we started heading back to the barn to pay for our pumpkins and spend some time on the haystack maze. It was too beautiful a day and too fantastic of scenery not to take some pictures, so I fell behind the other three pretty quickly. What I like most about what I was seeing was that I could really see fall starting to take effect.  The tips of trees were starting to yellow and red, crops in the distance were brown, some of the leaves on cornstalks were crisp and reddish brown.  The contrast of this against the blue sky was striking, and I truly enjoyed taking it all in.

We paid for our pumpkins -- less than 9 bucks for all three, which some might say we should have gotten Cal's for free.  Dan went to get some apple cider donuts and the kids and I headed to the haystack maze to play for a bit... well, the Leatherkids played while I took it all in.  I don't even know how long we were there, but the Leatherkids took a break only to eat a cider donut which Daddy had offered up to them once he had arrived at the haystack maze himself. He helped an older couple get their three grandchildren to sit still and smile for a picture and I helped a kid get his leg out of a hole... and then helped a bunch of kids fill that hole with hay.

One attempt at a nice picture during
round 1 -- Ella just wouldn't smile

Hay playtime over, we bribed the kids to take a few nice pictures before we left -- if they cooperated, they'd get another highly-coveted donut.  We found a good background for this picture by the barn only to run into a stubborn Ella who didn't want to sit and/or smile for a picture and really just wanted the donut.  After several failed attempts, we quit, gave Cal a donut and watched Ella cry over not getting one.

Somehow, I managed to get myself in the
picture Ella was taking of me

Dan and Cal went inside to get something to drink, and I sat with Ella outside.  We talked about taking pictures, and I let her try to take one herself.  She knows how to use a smartphone camera; however, this more traditional (Nikon) camera was new to her.  Look through the hole? Push a button halfway to focus and then all the way to take?  As she awkwardly held up the camera and did what I told her to take the picture, I maneuvered myself into what I thought was the frame of the picture... and it worked.

My toothless Leatherkids, all smiles

Somehow, this little exercise calmed Ella down about the whole smile-for-a-picture thing; so when Dan and Cal emerged from buying water (and a slice of apple pie a la mode), she was gung-ho to take a picture and get that apple cider donut.

You know how something goes well one time and you expect that that is a repeatable thing given the same surroundings and/or circumstances?  That's how I felt about this picture. I've taken so many good pictures of the kids at our orchard that I thought this year would be no different.  I assume that in the bundle of pictures I took will be a gem that I'll use for our Christmas card later this year.  I don't know if I have it, but I'm pleased with the pictures I took anyway.  Good memories.

Dan and Cal, post apple pie a la mode

So after Ella cooperated with the last set of pictures, we headed to a table where she enjoyed her well-earned apple cider donut and Cal and Dan enjoyed their apple pie a la mode (apple pie?  yuck... I still can't believe my family thought I liked that as an alternative to pumpkin pie, which they knew I didn't like, all those Thanksgivings).

So this year's trip to our apple orchard is done.  Check that off.  Now we have a bunch of delicious apples to eat the next couple of weeks and three pumpkins to decorate, too.

My Sunrise

When I lived in the City, I made several trips down Halsted street on my bike, in a cab, in my car or even once or twice on a bus to get from the North Side to the Loop.  Just south of the Milwaukee, Grand and Halsted intersection is a bridge, I can't even remember over what.  Possibly train tracks.  Possibly an abandoned warehouse or small industrial complex or two.  There are old buildings everwhere, not big enough or impressive enough to be seen in the beautiful City skyline but big enough to block any view of it from the base of that bridge.

As I approached that point on Halsted, I'd smile with the simple anticipation of what I knew was waiting for me and that I knew would emerge only a few seconds later.  It is my favorite view of the City's -- my City's -- skyline, and likely one of the lesser known, lesser appreciated views.

Maybe "view" isn't the correct term for it, though.  If I were to snap a picture of it, I doubt that it would capture the beauty, strength and hugeness, of the scene, a close-up view of the Loop and its massive buildings.  No building is viewable in its entirety... no streets can been seen... no cars... no people... no parks or trees... not even the vast Lake.  Just the top of one building after another, the well known ones discernable and rising above the others, the others just collectively contributing to the awesomeness (yes, Dad, awesome) of the City... my City.

That's what you'd see in the picture, certainly worth more than a glance.  What makes this my favorite view is the experience of seeing it slowly emerge from behind the blanket of ordinary as I'd ride up that bridge on Halsted just south of that intersection. At the risk of being dramatic, it's simply breathtaking.

Living in the suburbs now, the opportunities I have to catch that view are few and far between.  I can't tell you the last time I experienced it.  Early in one of my recent half-hour rides from home to the train station for my trip in to the City for a day's work, I was taken back to those days of riding down Halsted and had a similar experience, witnessing the hidden beauty of something I knew was waiting for me but that I couldn't yet see from my obstructed view.

It was dawn, and the sun hadn't yet made its full appearance for its day's work.  It was trying, though, and I knew this.  I had just gotten on the prairie path, the first major third of my trip downtown to the train station.  A fog was slowly lifting off of the prairie grasses -- I could feel the heat from the grasses mixing with the cool morning air and smell the wetness of the grasses whose dew hadn't yet evaporated in the heat of the sun. A rabbit scurried across the path in front of me and toward an unusual patch of trees to the east.  My eyes followed him; and as he disappeared into the grasses, my eyes continued moving along that same line and eventually landed on the trees.

My sunrise that morning on the prairie path

I cycled forward, the gravel path crunching beneath the weight of my bike and me.  With every turn of my wheels, the blanket of trees slowly slipped off the view they were unintentionally hiding.  It was a remarkable view of an everyday, familiar occurrence -- the sun rising in the morning sky; and I just could not have imagined how simply beautiful and breathtaking it would be at that very moment if I hadn't experienced it.  Everything that I had taken in in the minutes leading up to that moment that sun was revealed to me made it that much more wonderous than it was in the snapshot.

So what does this have to do with the Leatherkids? Afterall, they weren't with me to witness and share this. Frankly, they weren't even a thought in my head at the time (not one I knew about, anyway, as they are always in there). I just hope that one day when they're ready they'll read this and be inspired to appreciate the remarkableness that might be hidden in the ordinary.  It need not be the City's skyline or a sunrise over the praire path, either.  Whatever it is, I just hope that it is.  If I can teach them or influence them to appreciate more than what they see in the everday ordinary, I will have passed along something that's important to me and that genuinely and very simply makes me happy.