Bleaching the Baby

/ Shane / 5 Comments

I mentioned that Oliver has developed a really bad rash all over his body. Despite our best efforts, we just couldn’t beat the thing, it was a monster rash. Finally we did some Internet searching, and eventually our doctor confirmed that he had a textbook case of eczema.

I always thought that eczema was just like really bad dry skin. It certainly looks like it, and it’s certainly itchy like dry skin is. However, since I have been learning about eczema, it actually has nothing to do with that. Well, I shouldn’t say nothing to do with it, since dry skin can bring on a bout of eczema. But really, eczema is about allergies.

Regular allergies are when your body overreacts to something. Eczema is no different. However, not everybody who has eczema is necessarily allergic to the same thing. So eczema is something of a mystery, since there’s no root cause and everybody’s body is a little bit different.

We were already doing some things, like slathering on the Vaseline every night and using some hydrocortisone cream on the bad patches now and again, but that didn’t seem to be enough. So Sara hit the books, looking for anything that could help. Many people recommend eliminating dairy, but there doesn’t seem to be much scientific evidence supporting that theory. However, one study stood out: bleach baths.

It turns out that bathing twice a week in a bathtub of water and diluted bleach significantly helps reduce eczema. It sounds pretty crazy, especially since bleach is so caustic, but the study was pretty clear: it works. The doctor gave us the go ahead, and we gave it a try.

The results weren’t as dramatic as we were hoping (or as the results of the study implied). The eczema certainly wasn’t worse, and it may have been a bit better. But certainly there was no miraculous recovery. We’ve only been doing it for a week and a half or so, so we’ll continue for a while and see what happens. However, our hopes for a quick cure have been dashed.

Lately our efforts have been focused on detergent. It has been theorized that a lot more kids are allergic to detergent than is generally thought, and that is to blame for more than just eczema. However, the research does seem to show that detergent allergies absolutely can cause eczema. So we are currently trying to keep anything that has been washed with detergent from touching Oliver’s skin. This is more difficult than it sounds, or at least it is at first, until we manage to get everything re-washed with different soap that does not have detergent.

This has only been going on for a few days, so it is too soon to tell, but it seems like it is having a positive effect so far. However, we need to wait and see. At this point there is a lot of, “But it looks better on his chest, right?” or “Don’t you think his neck looks better tonight?” So we don’t want to declare victory before victory is to be had.

As long as I am doing an Ollie Update, I might as well throw in a few other things:

  1. He is rolling all over the place like a maniac. He hasn’t really been crawling yet, but he looks like he’s ready to at any moment. However, he doesn’t really need to crawl, because he can get where ever he needs to by rolling, pivoting, and rolling some more.
  2. He likes to “talk” which mostly includes “Da da da da!”s. He just looks so serious when he’s saying it, and he proclaims it so loudly, it really seems like he’s trying to say something.
  3. He really likes the idea of eating solids, but he gets tired of actually doing it pretty quick. He will still try to grab anything in sight, and he may even try to eat food out of your mouth.

A one car family

/ Shane / 8 Comments

The other day, Sara told me that her heat wasn’t working on her car. “Better get that looked at before winter,” I said. A couple of days later I drove her car to the grocery store and I noticed that the temperature gage was showing the engine getting pretty hot. Usually Sara drives the car for very short distances only, around the neighborhood, but I was on the highway here. So the first thing I did when I saw it getting hot was to turn on the heat, full blast. Of course, the heat didn’t work, so it was only blowing out cool air and not cooling down the engine. However, when it would get really hot, the heat would suddenly kick on and the engine would cool.

Now this was a bigger problem than just the heat, but the two things were obviously connected. My guess was maybe a thermostat problem or something. So I made an appointment to take it in. My mechanic is out by my work so that I can drop the car off in the morning, work all day, and then pick it up at night. This seems to be the least disruptive way to handle car problems. However, that means driving the car out 45 minutes on the highway to get there. You can probably see where this is going. The heat would not kick on and, despite keeping my eye glued to the thermostat and driving as slow as I could without being rear-ended, the car overheated and I had to pull over on the side of the highway. It took half an hour for the tow truck to get there.

It turns out that there was a crack inside the intake manifold which allowed all of the coolant to leak out (hence the overheating and no heat). This might not have been so bad, except that the leak was directly over the engine, so all of the coolant that was leaking out was being sucked into a lot of really bad places. They said it would be $900 to fix the damage they knew about, but there was a high likelihood that there would be more problems with the engine. Later, when I learned that at least one cylinder completely filled up with anti-freeze and had to be drained, I suspected that there was a high, high, high likelihood that at least some of the engine would need to be replaced.

Thus began the great debate: do I fix the car or get rid of it? The car was 15 years old and a few minor things had started to go wrong with it all at once recently, which I took as a sign. According to what I found online, it was worth between $1,000 and $1,500. If the repairs were $900+ (and maybe a big plus if the engine had to go), so it just didn’t seem like it was worth fixing. On the other hand, until the day the intake manifold cracked, it was a perfectly good car that seemed like it had some good years in it yet. Eventually we decided that it wasn’t worth keeping the car. Sara had bought it used for like $3,000 and we had it for 8 years. That seemed like a pretty good go.

I thought that making that decision meant the hard part was over, but it was just the beginning. The next question was, if we’re not going to keep it, what were we going to do with it? I didn’t want to pay to fix it and then try to sell it, because that’s a gamble: if we didn’t sell it for what we put into it, then we lost money. So instead I decided to not fix it, and try to sell it anyway. I thought if I explained the problem and set the price really low, maybe someone who could do the work themselves or get the parts for cheap might want it. I figured that the car was worth between $1k and $1.5k, so split the difference and call it $1,250. The repairs were around $900, plus a little more, so I figured the magic number was around $300 or so.

But how to get it home? It was way out in the suburbs. I got some towing estimates, and it was around $150. Our insurance would cover the original tow into the shop, but not the “convenience tow” (their words, not mine). It seemed kind of silly to pay $150 for a tow if I was only going to sell the car for $300, but I didn’t know what choice I had. Finally I called the place and said, “If I stuff it full of coolant, could I make it back to the city?” “Maybe,” he said, “Probably.” Very well, decision made. Until, that is, he called me back a little later. “I changed my mind. The leak is a lot worse than we thought. I don’t think you could make it.” This is where I learned that the coolant had filled up the cylinders. After they drained that, they put some water in to see how bad it was leaking and the water flowed right through.

Well, I still didn’t want to pay to have it towed, and they were getting antsy about keeping it on their lot any longer, so I still didn’t have a choice. I showed up bright and early the next morning, 2 jugs of anti-freeze in my hand. I figured I wouldn’t make it home, but every mile I drove was less money I’d have to pay for the inevitable tow.

“Oh, you can’t drive it, it doesn’t start.”
“Wait, what now? You said you didn’t think I could make it home, but you didn’t say it didn’t start!”
“Oh, well I thought they had got is started, but I guess they didn’t. The water we put in yesterday ran into the cylinders and hydro-statically locked them. You can’t even turn it on.”
::blank stare from me, standing there stupidly with my anti-freeze::
“Well, I guess I won’t be picking it up today…”

Ugh.

At this point, I was running out of options, so I started calling scrap yards. I found a place that would tow the car for me and give me $310 for it (above my magical $300 line). So, not only could I get about what I wanted from it, but I wouldn’t have the extra expense of towing it home, and I wouldn’t have the hassle of trying to sell it. I still debated for another day or so, after all it seemed such a shame for a car to go from perfectly fine to junked in a matter of days, but eventually I just didn’t have any other viable choice.

All of the trouble, time and effort this had cost me so far wasn’t quite over with yet, there was one more hurrah left! I needed to be at the car with the keys and title, so they could tow it away. They wanted to do it on Friday, which wasn’t super convenient for me, but I arranged to be there between 1 and 2. I would just try to bring enough stuff to keep Oliver and Evie occupied until the truck showed up.

He called at 11 and said, “Okay, I’m ready to do this.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m in the city. I have to pick up my daughter from school at 12. That’s why I scheduled it for between 1 and 2.”
“Hey, no problem,” he said in an understanding voice, “these things come up during the day. Just try to get here as soon as possible.”

Well, no, my day was all planned out. YOU were the thing that was unexpectedly cropping up! But it was nice of him for being so understanding (that was sarcasm). Nonetheless, I picked up Evie from school and we managed to make it out there by 12:30, and I gave him a call.

“Well, I’m picking up someone else right now. Let me call you when I’m coming out so that you can wait at home until then.”
“I’m already here, at the car. I came as early as I could.”
“I can be there in an hour.”

Okay, no big deal, that would put him there at 1:30, which was solidly between my 1 and 2 appointment. We brought food and stuff to do, we could occupy ourselves for an hour.

After 2 I gave him a call. I was a little steamed by this point.
“Well, sir, I just have one more pickup to do first…”
“That’s what you said last time, and that was an hour and a half ago!”
“I’m very sorry, but we’re very busy today.”
“So am I, that’s why I scheduled an appointment!”
“Towing is very unpredictable. We don’t know how long these things are going to take. That’s why I told you to wait at home until I called.”
“Then why are you picking up another car? I’ve been waiting for an hour and a half. How long has he been waiting?”
“Well, he’s very close to base, so my dispatcher told me to pick him up first.”
“Next time tell him too bad! Tell him I’ve been waiting with an infant and a toddler in an alley next to a dumpster for an hour and a half, and you have to do me next!”
“Well, I have no control over it. You’re welcome to call and complain. If you can’t wait then call back and schedule another pickup at your convenience.”
“Today between 1 and 2 WAS my convenience. THAT’S WHY I SCHEDULED AN APPOINTMENT!”

The tow truck finally arrived at 3:20, an hour and 20 minutes after the end of my appointment and almost 3 hours after I arrived. We had walked around the neighborhood, had a dance contest on a nearby stump, eaten a bagel at Dunkin Donuts, re-read the same book several times, given Oliver a bottle, played any number of games I could make up, and Oliver had even had a nap. Things were looking desperate.

Finally, Evie had said her goodbyes, the check was in my hand, and the car was gone. What a day!

So.

Thus ends the saga of the old car, and begins the new saga: finding a new car!

Originally I had figured that when Sara’s car died we would buy a van. However, we thought about it a little bit and decided we didn’t really need a van, at least not yet. There are only two times a year or so when we are hurting for space, and we’ve always managed to make do thus far. So what we decided to get instead was a very small car with great fuel economy for me to take back and forth to work. With the money we save on gas, we can rent a van twice a year.

We’re currently cross-referencing the consumer report’s reliability list with the fuel economy list and price guidelines, and making a spreadsheet. While we’re doing all the research, however, we have to figure out how to manage our hectic weekly schedule with only one car. Sara has been busy learning the bus route, and it’s actually working okay so far.

In fact, it’s working out so well that it’s got us thinking: do we even need a second car? Of course, it’s not going to be easy, but it is going to be a lot cheaper. If we could make some of the difficult things work, it could be worth it. The one hitch in our plan was that Sara had to go one day a week to another hospital, so we would need two cars for sure on that day. However, it looks like she coincidentally might not need to do that anymore. Is the universe trying to tell us something?

So, for now, the plan is to give it a go with only one car until Thanksgiving, as a trial run. Can we do it? I’m sure I will keep you posted.

Saying Goodbye to the Homestead

/ Shane / 4 Comments

The house that I grew up in is no longer in the possession of my family.

Overall I would say that it was less emotional than I would have guessed. Certainly it is weird to think I will never be back in that house again. Obviously there are so many memories, etc. But, on the other hand, I hardly went back to that house as it was. My mom had already moved, and my sister was living there for awhile, but we didn’t really go and stay there. And I guess I’m old enough to know that nothing like that lasts forever.

That being said, there have been a few times where a particular memory surfaces, or when I was driving around Fort Wayne and I thought, “Hmm, I’m never really going to need to go to that part of town again”, or drive down that street or know how to get to that particular thing, etc. It’s not just the house, it’s practically giving up my entire hometown. The parts of town I go to now look nothing like they did when I lived there. I might as well be going to a completely different place. It seems like every day that goes by, I have one less tie to home. It’s kind of weird to think about.

However, all of this minor weirdness is overwhelmed by relief for my mom.

The fact is, our neighborhood went way downhill. When we moved in, the neighborhood was full of old people. Those old people died. Some of them were replaced by good clean families like us. Some of them were replaced by low-lifes that used to live in some of the surrounding neighborhoods.

I think my mom had an overly optimistic attitude about the neighborhood; she saw the good and didn’t notice or ignored the bad. I think the neighborhood sucked, and was getting suckier by the minute. There was a drive by shooting down the street. The hotel behind us had an explosion when the meth lab caught fire. The 3 houses across the street from us all had their copper pipes stolen. The house next door was abandoned and housing meth makers/sellers/addicts. Now, the neighborhood’s not as rough as that actually sounds, but it can’t be denied that those things are facts, and those facts don’t add up to a nice neighborhood. I almost feel bad for the poor person who bought our house, because they might not realize they just bought one of the nicest, kept up places in the middle of a starting-to-be-not-that-nice neighborhood.

So I’m not trying to diss the neighborhood. It certainly wasn’t that bad when we were growing up there. The shopping center used to be a nice place (even the movie theater!) I’m just trying to say, thank god she got out when she did. I don’t see home prices rising in that neighborhood anytime soon. And lets not forget that the house across the street was on the market for FOUR YEARS. This could have gone much worse. You can see why my mom was getting nervous as it got close to the final sale. She even moved back into the house, to make sure nothing happened to it.

So, I’m sorry to see this house and all of its associated memories leave our possession, but I’m more happy that my mom was able to get out before it was too late, and get some money out of it. If that wasn’t the situation, maybe the sadness would be more of a factor, I don’t know. But as it is, I think it all worked out for the best.

(By the way, I just discovered that if you tag a post “Family”, “growing up”, “Home” and “meth” like I just did, WordPress will helpfully suggest the related tag “Washington DC”. Jeez, take that our nation’s capitol!)

Quote Monday Shares Rock, Paper, Scissors

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Evie: “If Oliver doesn’t have a ticket, how will he eat supper? Speaking of eating, can we eat lunch now?” – Is she really old enough to understand segues?

::Me teaching Evie rock, paper, scissors::
Evie: “I’m going to be paper!”
Me: “Well, don’t tell me, because then I might be rock and you would cover me.”
Evie: “…okay, you be rock.”
::later::
Evie: “Wait! What do I make to win?”

Evie: “I like to share some things.”
Sara: “Like what?”
Evie: “Like pancakes. But some things I don’t like to share.”
Sara: “Like what?”
Evie: “Pancakes…”

Me: “We’re going to stay at Grandma Butterfly’s house.”
Evie: “Where is Grandma Butterfly going to be?”
Me: “She’ll be there.”
Evie: “She’ll probably want us to have some dessert…”

Girl: “How old are you?”
Evie: “3.”
Girl: “How old is he?”
Me: “5 months.”
Girl: “And I guess you are…44!”
She seemed very skeptical when I told her I was 30. I don’t think she bought it.

Climbing walls – not just for humans anymore

/ Shane / 2 Comments

You see those little specks on the side of that damn?

They’re goats!

As the article says, “Alpine Ibex goats, like the ones seen here, are native to the Alps, known for their awesome climbing abilities”. There are two theories about why they were doing this: either they were either trying to lick mineral deposits off the side of the dam, or they were simply practicing their climbing ability (which is, needless to say, pretty impressive). I don’t think the climbing wall at your gym would pose much of a problem.

No word on whether they used a trampoline to get up on the dam in the first place.

Link via Sara.