Maternally Challenged

Only in First Grade is a Rash a Social Asset

Bad weekend around here: my 7-yea-old, Suzanne, was walking around with a hollow cough that made her sound like Tallulah Bankhead after a weekend bender, so it was off to the doctor and then to the drugstore for a round of antibiotics. On Friday night (these things always happen on weekends) she sprouted a weird, vividly red rash on her butt. Thinking she is having an allergic reaction to the amoxycillin, I call the on-call physician, who says yeah, that's probably what it is, and prescribes a new antibiotic.....which we forgot to get on Saturday, since by then she was already feeling better.

Then, on Sunday, the rash spreads, she develops a wicked earache and my husband and I look at each other and go, Hey, why didn't you go pick up that prescription?? Because, of course, the only way to deal with something like this is to immediately blame your spouse. Anyway, back to the store, new antibiotic, but the rash persists. So yesterday, once again, we are hauling up the road to the pediatrician. This time, the doctor looks at Suzanne's butt and says, "Well, her ear is already better and I can't hear anything in her chest."

"So what about the rash?" I say.

"Don't know what it is," the doctor says. "But it's getting better, so don't worry about it. Sometimes we never figure these things out." And she ruled out lethal staph infections and ringworm and bedbugs.

Back in the car, headed this time to school, Suzanne sighs happily. "I can't wait to get to class!" she says. "When I tell everybody all about my rash I am going to be soooo popular!"

Random Thoughts from a Jetlagged Brain

Just got back from a five-day trip to The Hague (on a magazine assignment, yes I know, it was hardship duty) and I am here to report a few observations:

1. Dutch TV is every bit as inane as American TV. A big part of the reason is that much of it IS American TV. For the rest, I will name only two shows I happened to encounter while channel surfing: "Beauty and the Nerd" (title in English, show in Dutch, do not ask me why) and "Dancing Queen," a "Dancing With the Stars" knock-off (or inspiration, who knows) set to (steady yourselves) the music of ABBA. And only ABBA.

This is my idea of hell.

2. Of all the contributions America has made to the world, pop music may be second only to the Bill of Rights. I say this after five days of listening to Europop in various elevators. Their idea of pop music is a female voice crooning into a microphone some phrase ("I gave you my love" comes in mind) over and over and over and OVER, against a background of synthesized music made by machines that I do not think were even programmed by human beings. Same phrase. Again and again. The next song involves another phrase, set against a slightly differenet synthesized sound. Only heroin addicts would enjoy this stuff.

I have gotten old and crotchety, and I have been irritated lately at the style of many modern American singers, who either do aerobics while lip synching (if they cannot carry a tune) or, if they do have a voice, slide up and down the melodic scale as if it were a greased pole, searching for a note to  land on. But I take it all back. That is ever so much better than robo-music. One more day of listening to Europop and I would have had to stick my head in an oven, if I could have found one. Ovens, it seems, are not standard equipment in Dutch kitchens. Yeah, I know. WEIRD. But they have their reasons.

3. The Dutch have bathroom plumbing DOWN.  My  shower consisted of a knob on the left, which controlled flow, and a knob on the right, which was marked with Celsius degrees markings, so I could program exactly how hot I wanted it. Simple. Elegant. Only took me two days to figure out.

4. These little Euro cars--Tuk-Tuks, they are called in Holland--are so cute that I wanted to steal one and stick it in my suitcase. It almost would have fit. It makes SO much sense for short trips, schlepping kids, grocery store, etc. that I want to drive my minivan off a cliff. This is the future, people. When it comes to cars, Americans are stone stupid.