WIPs and Da Hood Hospital

I'll begin by diving right into fun and crafty stuff. I'll get to the kavetching afterwards.

My Work in Progress list of personal projects as well as business related projects is totally out of control. It's so long that I feel like I am never going to accomplish anything until I can get a handle on it, and that's part of the point of a crafting blog isn't it? So here goes, a complete list of Personal (not work related) WIPs which I will keep in the sidebar until they are complete and then I'll have a new sidebar category of finished projects. That'll keep me crackin' the whip on myself won't it?

1. Harlan's embroidered nautical/pirate/mermaid theme quilt
2. Joe's embroidered valentine's day card
3. Aranzi Aranzo cat made from pink cashmere sweater
4. Felt and cotton chick
5. Pear fabric pillow:

6. Amy Butler fancy pillow:

7. Log cabin pot holders with superbuzzy fabric
8. Robot fabric shortalls for Harlan:

9. Other superbuzzy fabric shortalls for Harlan
10. Matching sun hat for Harlan
11. Crochet amigurmi dog:


12. Zakka purse with clear plastic handles
13. Clothes for myself using the following vintage patterns. Bitter Betty's post about sewing a garment every other week from vintage patterns has inspired me to light a flame under my own vintage loving ass:
This wrap dress first:


Then this dress which isn't vintage but could be:


Then this awesomely cute romper (I do a lot of romping you know);


Then this sleeveless top:

And maybe even one of these elegant thirties dresses to wear the next time I haul the stroller down the stairs and over to Target for some tin foil and diapers:



That will definitely keep me busy for a while.

Now, on to the kavetching. After the barfolicious plane ride to Austin and a week of feeling feverish and struck with The Naush, poor Harlan became quite feverish himself. This was last Friday. By Sunday he was still crying relentlessly and began trembling. I took him to the local emergency room (at what Jennifer rightfully calls Da Hood Hospital) two blocks away. My sweet boy was burning up with a temp of 104.9. To make a long story as short as possible we spent a little over 24 hours in the pediatric wing of Brooklyn Hospital which had very nice and competent doctors and nurses. I won't torture anyone by describing some of the tests my 16 month old had to endure, but needless to say he is feeling much better. The doctor thinks it was a bacterial infection in his blood (how the hell does one get this?) But the test results still are not back. When I got up to Harlan's room I was immediately struck by the bright overhead lights and the blaring noise. My roommate and her husband were simultaneously listening to music on their laptop and watching TV at full volume while holding their 1 month old daughter and bottle feeding her. I asked meekly if they could please turn the volumes "down or off" and they reluctantly turned the volumes down. Harlan kept crying. I burst into tears. A nurse came in and told me to stop crying because it would scare the baby even more than he already was. I did as I was told. Luckily Joe came by soon after and asked the couple nicely to turn off the music and television so that Harlan could get some rest. They did. He asked if we could turn off the overhead lights too so that Harlan could go to sleep. My roommate said, "Well, I'm not ready to go sleep." I started crying again and caught myself. All night long TVs were playing in adjoining rooms. All day the next day TVs blasted. At one point most of them were literally playing an episode of Jerry Springer featuring people who were having their babies DNA tested to prove paternity. It was a bad stereotype come to life. I went next door to ask the person if he could turn it down so Harlan could try to take a nap. It was a very young man with a newborn baby in his lap (who knows where the poor mother was), holding a bottle and watching Jerry and his guests hoot and holler at full volume. He was happy to turn down the volume but the whole scene made me feel a bit numb to be honest. The one saving grace of our stay at Da Hood Hospital was the playroom which was open for two hours. There were a ton of toys and a guitarist named Bill who sang songs for the kids and handed out shakers for them to keep. We found out about the playroom earlier in the day from a young girl named Wroed who was there with her 17 month old baby sister Muzma and their mother. Muzma had asthma as did the majority of the children at the hospital. Wroed was about eight years old and super sweet and smiley. She helped her little sister play with Harlan in the hosptial hallway while their mother tried to get some rest. She told us about the playroom and how it was her favorite place in the hospital and she never wanted to leave it and go back to their room. Joe drew a wonderful portrait of Wroed for her using crayons while Bill sang songs about ducks and Dora the Explorer and for a little while we all forgot we were in the pediatric wing of Da Hood Hospital. Hopefully we won't have to return.