Well THAT was fun.

First, before I say another word, let me state the Goober is fine, to the point the little shit never knew anything was really wrong. It's me who needs a lie-down in a dark room with a martini and some Godiva. Preferably while the kid is duct-taped to a solid surface so I know where she is and what she's doing.

First thing this morning, before breakfast even, the Goob swallowed a penny. I had STUPIDLY given it to the kid to play with, thinking (stupidly) that at the age of three, she was smart enough (HA!) not to put it in her mouth. Yeah, RIGHT. I don't think I'd have ever known she swallowed it, except I saw it go down. A little hand waving, a couple coughs. I figured she'd choked on some spit or something - it was that minor - and asked if she was okay. She said yes. Then about thirty seconds later, it clicked, and I said "WHERE IS THAT PENNY YOU WERE PLAYING WITH????" and she said "It's in my mouth." and opened her mouth, and of course, the penny was not there.

So, first, thanks to EMT class, I evaluated her for choking. Since she was talking, that meant she was very likely fine. (General rule of thumb; if a person can talk, they can get enough air and their esouhagus is unobstructed enough that they'll be all right - even if their airway is clogged, they can clear it themselves with throat clearing, coughing, whatever.) I had her drink some water, she did without any complaint, and it stayed down. (If the opening to the stomach is blocked, anything that goes down, doesn't stay down long.) Yay for EMT class. I don't know how parents stay sane without it. (Well. Sort of sane.)

Then - being me - I hit the internet and googled about kids swallowing coins while she plowed through her breakfast as if nothing had happened. Again generally, if an otherwise healthy kid swallows a coin, and it gets to their stomach without them choking, it just goes on through with no trouble. Choking is the real risk, and obviously she wasn't.

The Goob was by then doing laps of the couch, waving her arms and laughing and yelling. Yet another rule of thumb from the EMT days - if the kid is wrestling you and screaming, odds are high they're fine. It's when the kids to limp and quiet you worry. Obviously the Goob was in great distress, what with the singing and all. And I thought 'Soon as I don't ask about this, the kid will wind up with copper poisoning.' (Copper can be toxic, you know. Especially in acidic environments. Like, say, your stomach. It's possible I know too much.) So I called the poison control center.

You always know it's a good day when you call the poison control center. (The Goober was by now laying on the floor, watching Dora the Explorer and playing with a box.) The conversation opened like this:
ME: Hi, my kid just swallowed a penny. Do I need to freak out?
LADY ON OTHER END: Is the child choking?
ME: No, she's singing and has eaten.
LADY: Ah. I don't think you need to freak out, then. Hang on, let me check the procedures.
Later I told the husbeast it was probably the calmest call they got all day.

Long story short, no risk of copper poisoning (though weirdly, a very low risk of nickel allergy), but the poison control center wanted me to call the pediatrician to make sure they didn't want an x-ray. I'm not a big fan of x-raying children for no good reason; it's considered kind of a bad idea, thought to possibly cause/trigger childhood lukeima and other crazy stuff. If I thought the kid was in real trouble I'd skip the pediatrician altogether and go to the ER and let them x-ray to their heart's delight. But this was about a kid who was apparently fine. One or two x-rays are unlikely to trigger ANYTHING, but then the Goob could have a cigarette and likely not trigger anything, and I'm not a fan of THAT, either. (Boy howdy, that was a run-on sentence.) Then I figured if the poison control center reported to someone and I didn't follow up, I'd wind up with CPS down on my head. (CPS = children's protective services. They're particularly rabid and wierd and arbitrary here. I prefer to avoid them.)

So I called the pediatrician. Left a message with the appointment clerk, who was very nice about the whole thing, we were both laughing and at one point I told her I wanted a perscription for the Goob - for duct tape.

He called back, I suspect thinking he was going to have to talk down the freaked-out mother from x-raying her kid, because he was clearly not in favor of it if everything else was normal. I told him that between her swallowing the penny and him calling, she'd eaten a banana, a bowl of teddy grahams, a peanut butter sandwich, two glasses of water, and done about sixty laps of the couch. She could be heard singing in the background and I added that, yes, the singing kid was the one who swallowed the penny. He kind of laughed and said it was best left alone, then, and warned about stomach cramps and fevers and that was it.

Mother of the year, right here, hoo yeah.



In an attempt to remain calm (woo sah), I have finished plying the black silk from Habu Textiles.


You can see by the second photo, this stuff is still REALLY thin. And that's triple-plied. There is no way it would have knit up right as-is, unless I pulled an Alwen and knit lace on sewing needles. (And I'm not gonna. And you can't make me.) As it is, I've got 675 yards of this stuff, and am wondering what in hell to do with it. I'm debating between lacy pullover and doily and beaded bag.

Then, yesterday, I got a lace whorl and the drive band to go with it, for my wheel. (All it is, is a gearing change that makes the yarn twist itself together faster.) With the change in gearing, there is a marked change in treadling. It's almost like... like... EXERCISE. So I'm back to the carbon fiber. I'd like to spin it laceweight so I can weave a couple-three scarves for Christmas, and I think I also want to knit myself a shawl with it. (A stealth shawl, shaped like a stealth bomber.) I've got over a pound and a half of the stuff left. I originally ordered two pounds, thinking I would knit a sweater for the husbeast with it. Then we both saw how the fiber behaved - like silk, very heavy, no memory - and dumped the idea. The husbeast now wants a hat. I can do that; I'm doing the ribbing around the head with teflon-coated wool and then the top of the hat with carbon fiber.


At the moment I'm practice-spinning the last of the FIRST half-pound bag. Three to go. Oy vey.




We have begun Christmas shopping here (mostly because the budget can't take one big shopping spree at any one time, not so much because I plan ahead per se), and today what should appear in the mail but the Christmas presents for the Goob and The Cousin (my nephew, who is three months older than she is and kind of triggered us having the Goob when we did, so she'd have a cousin near her age). We got both of them animal zoos from Fisher Price, the Little People stuff, that teaches the alphabet. If you've got a kid at Goob age on your list, and can afford it, it is AWESOME. I wanted to take it out of the box and play with it MYSELF when it got here. Details, here.



Now, I think I'm going to play computer games for the rest of the day. It's my low-cal alternative to a pound of Godiva and three martinis.