We May Put Him Out to Pasture...

I ask of you, "What exactly have I done to anger the barnyard population?" We, the Fitzpatricks, have had a particularly spotty, shall we call it, relationship with those favoring the pastoral life this fall. And I frankly have no idea why.
It began in October when Maddie was having trouble sleeping one night and we discovered, to our shock, dismay, and, if I may admit it, digust, that she had acquired pinworms. And when I say worms, I mean worms. While most moms know that pinworms are super common in little kids, especially in ones that put their hand in their mouths - as does thumb sucking Maddie - it was no less disconcerting to see those suckers at midnight. Jameson also seemed to have a small case, so the entire family was treated. With something called Vermox. Doesn't that sound like an inocuolation for a goat?
Jump forward to November when we apparently struggled with the swine flu. I know, I know, it's called H1N1, but let's call it what it is. The big fat fault of the pigs! That really sent us to the edge. Jameson wound up in the hospital for 6 days, Maddie was sick at home with fever for 8, as was Katie.
Now we enter December. I am finally feeling good about everything. All 3 kids are back at school. Life seems to be returning to normal. Then Jameson starts getting blisters on his hands and feet and one or two on his face. Hand, foot and mouth disease (referred to as hoof and mouth in the animal community). Again, another popular childhood ailment, but another one attached to farms??????? It is running its course...but not without other possible victims. It seems that some blisters are showing up on Chris' hands and maybe feet. I am thinking he may be paranoid, but don't tell him that. Irregardless, if it is hoof and mouth, I'm just going to put him in the yard.
Now if I could just do something about the bovine I see when I look in the mirror.....
Happy Holidays to you all!

Jameson's New Do...It's a Turkey!

Chris decided that Jameson needed a hair cut. In all honesty, he did. I was out of the house and came home to a very shorn little boy. I must say, however, that he looks pretty cute. And much too old. My baby is growing up too fast. While I do not want to go through the exhaustion of an infant again, I want to savor every last moment of his infancy. Bittersweet.

Well, Thanksgiving greeted us with sickness again this year, just like last. While Jameson and Maddie are finally feeling better (knock on wood), Katie is now going on day 8 of a fever. She did 3 days of Tamiflu, with no positive response. They switched her to antibiotics, as they felt that it had crossed the lines to a bacterial infection. She is on day 2 of zithromax and I am ready for the fever to break. It has been so long (November 5) since all 3 kids were at school. We are hoping it breaks today.

Jameson's latest round of blood results show that his liver levels are finally going down. Our doc here is still trying to figure out exactly what happened with him and is running some viral testing on his blood. She is also doing some allergy testing and a test for celiac disease, I think. Hopefully we'll know something soon. We are having him tested for allergies since Katie has a nut allergy and seasonal allergies.

We had a nice Thanksgiving here. We ate chicken, potatoes, stuffing, green beans, corn and strawberry cake. All in all, quite nice. Today the kids are enjoying a Disney Movie Marathon on Armed Forces Network (the military TV station) - Wall-E, Bolt, and High School Musicals 1, 2, &3. Chris is headed to Tuscany today for a weekend golf tournament. I have two weeks of grading to do and final exams to start writing. It never seems to end.

While November has been a looooooooooooooong month for us, we have much to be thankful for. It is a blessing that Jameson is okay and out of the hospital. A guardian angel was certainly watching over him. We hope you are all as blessed. Much love, M.

Those %#@* Pigs

In an effort to be PC (but do we really care about the feelings of pigs???) I guess that I should state that I do not directly blame the pigs for the swine flu; but who else can I blame??? Certainly not the letters H and N and the number 1, so I digress...
Well, Jameson is home. It is so good to have him here and hear him cry and laugh and make a mess at the table. Mess is bliss. All tests have shown that he does not have diabetes, as so many seemed certain. Our best guess for what happened last Friday is that he either had a febrile seizure or that he had a hyperglycemic response to the virus (note that no pigs were mentioned...). The doctors at the hospital do not like that answer, but our family doctor here told me the day that it happened that she did not think he was diabetic and that she felt it was probably a response to illness. Anyway, it is so good to have him here.
Maddie is still fighting this flu. It is a difficult fever to manage, but when she is medicated, she feels pretty good. She does get a little loopy at times, like last night when she told me she did not know where her egg was. At this point I checked her temp and dosed her with Motrin and yogurt (because all moms know that you can't do Motrin on an empty stomach...). I am hopeful that it will taper off over today and she will be on the mend. I am also hopeful that Katie, Chris and myself do not get it. Katie has been home from school all week, too. It (note again that no pigs were mentioned) is making its way around the elementary school and since she was most likely exposed, we thought it prudent to bore her to tears and keep her in the confines of the apartment. MEAN PARENTS!
Thanks to all of you for your well wishes. At this time of year it seems that we have even more to be thankful for...and perhaps I will cook ham this Thanksgiving. After all, the turkeys are CERTAINLY not responsible...
much love, m

...and so it goes

Well, a trip to the Health Unit this morning left us with doses of Tamiflu for the entire family. Maddie and Katie are both running temps, and they started Maddie on the medicine this morning. I am to hold off on Katie until tonight to see if her fever persists. The doses for Chris and myself are just in case. Jameson is already past the time when he could take it, but he is still on the antibiotics at the hospital.
That being said, Jameson's blood sugar is holding in the upper 70s, which seems to be good. He is not eating a whole lot - probably a combination of feeling a little yucky and the marginal hospital food he is being fed. We should know the results of his H1N1 today, not that it will make a big difference at this point. It seems that it is more likely that he is NOT diabetic, which makes up very happy, obviously. Chris is staying with him today, as we felt I should just keep the girls still and quiet at home. We will probably swap tomorrow.
Oh, and by the way, Maddie puked in the car on the way home. It has been a rough several days. Please keep up in your prayers.
marsha

Jameson...

Jameson is still at Ospedale Pediatrico Bambino Gesu here in Rome. He is doing much better. His blood sugars were 77 at last check and they are still checking every few hours. He has had the iv drip (glucose, insulin and saline mix) removed and they are now letting him eat food. He had a big dinner tonight of soup and mozzarella (welcome to Italy!). The doctors said his blood work looked good, other than slightly elevated liver enzymes, which is typical with a viral infection. We will receive the results of the influenza test tomorrow and they will start testing him for various forms of diabetes, as well, if my understanding is correct. He is still on antibiotics and we anticipate him staying in the hospital for a couple more days. If the tests come back positive for diabetes, we will be there longer to become educated on how to regulate his sugars at home. He is pretty frustrated spending so much time in the bed and Chris and I have watched "Cars" with him at least 6 times. We have also played with cars and looked at cars out the window. He giggled and grinned some for me tonight and I must say that it was the best feeling ever. It has been a long few days and the girls are now starting to show signs of some illness. Hopefully not flu, but we are taking care of them, too.
Please know that we appreciate all of the prayers, good wishes and positive thinking that everyone has sent our way. We know that you all make a difference and to have you thinking of us means more than you know. We will keep you updated.

Jameson. . .

All,

I just wanted to give everyone an update on Jameson. Without getting into too much detail, he was taken to the hospital today after having what we think was a febrile seizure. Marsha did a great job in getting him help. He is now at one of the best pediatric hospitals in Rome or Europe so we are told. He was not 100% this evening but was alert and could tell me what sound a cow, horse and dog make. He even wanted to play with some trucks, which was nice.

He will be in the hospital for the next few days as they want to run some tests on him. Keep him and us in your thoughts and prayers. We are all doing okay, but it was quite a scare.

Chris

BOO!

Let me first wish you all a very Happy Halloween! We have been celebrating here in Rome - it seems to be one American holiday that other countries like to participate in (unlike Thanksgiving, for instance...). Katie had a party and parade at school, we had a Trunk or Treat party at Chris' office, and the school held a "Fall Festival" party today. I am Halloweened out! The kids had a good time, though. Chris and I realized that all the kids held true to their own personalities with their costumes this year. Katie was a cowgirl, Maddie was a ladybug - with sparkly dots, and Jameson was a golfer, complete with a tam and plus-fours. Really cute. I dressed up as a teacher and Chris was the disgruntled dad handing out candy to rude kids. We all played our parts well. :)

The weather has been very nice here lately. It was in the 70s today and has been like that often. I am sure it will change soon, but we are enjoying it now. The kids and I went down near the Trevi Fountain almost 2 weeks ago and it was so beautiful that I could not imagine a nicer day anywhere. The skies were cloudless, the sun was bright and the temperature was mild. It really was Bella Roma. It is tough to be in a bad mood when the weather is so cooperative

I have finished my first quarter at school. I had to fail several students, and I am sure that it was more painful for me than it will be for all but one of the students. Frustrating. The 9th graders have started Macbeth and I honestly think that they like it. They don't really understand it until we read in class, but they are totally getting into it and appreciating even the humor. I am excited for the time when they are ready to act some of the scenes out. Should be fun. The eighth graders are reading the last 4 chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird this weekend. They have really grasped Harper Lee's message and I think they have been quite moved by the story. They will have an essay test in a week and will be starting independent outside reading (non-fiction - YUCK they cry) and Romeo and Juliet in class. I keep that bunch busy. :)

Well, I wish I had some funny tales to tell this time, but I am pretty tired. I hope you enjoy the pictures. It was nice to find some fall leaves for the kids to play in. We miss that.

Yeah, I'm the Beast!

Well, I have been called a lot of things in my life...Marsha, Momma, Babe, Pete, Lady Astor, Marsha Bones, and probably some other unsavory things. I have not, however, ever been called a Beast. Perhaps there were times when it was warranted, like on the soccer field, or after administering a particularly difficult test. I am pretty sure that the same type of sentiment that might have been intimated in those instances is not the one that my eldest, Katie, intended when she drew this picture for me. She meant to say, "Mommy is the best!" And you can all see the end result. Still it made me smile. The weird thing is, I would be a beast for her. I will beat of all the bullies I can, move mountains to make her happy, and protect her before myself. I just don't intend to look like a character from Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are. The wisdom of youth is priceless.
Work is going pretty well. I gave my eighth graders their first big test this week, 105 vocabulary words from To Kill a Mockingbird and background on Harper Lee. It did not surprise me that the majority of the class did fantastically well. There were actually a couple of perfect scores. I knew they could handle it. We are in the beginning stages of writing short stories, as well, and I can't wait to see what they give me. Their writing always surprises, always makes me laugh, and frequently makes me think. Good stuff. We are going to finish Mockingbird soon, too, and they will write an essay exam for that one. Fun for them. :)
My ninth graders have just finished Animal Farm by George Orwell. They are in the midst of a two day test - first part objective, second part essay. While it is certainly not my favorite book, I think the class enjoyed it. They also really understood the relationship between the animals in the book and historical figures from the Russian Revolution. Hopefully they'll be able to demonstrate understanding of the themes from the book on the essay. Either way, we are moving on to Macbeth next, which I much prefer...
I hope you all are well.
Signing off,
The Beast

It's Been a While...

I haven't been neglecting the blog. In fact, I have often longed to tickle the ebonies (my computer keys are black) and tell you about the new adventures of the Fitz Family - but, to be honest, I am tired. It has been busy since we got back to Rome. I have been hired, been almost fired (or so I feared), had three sick kids, visited the ER once, spent the week as a single woman while Chris was in Albania, figured out how to communicate nuns at the day care Maddie and Jameson attend (that's right, no English), and learned how to teach again. I have little time to indulge in my few indulgences.
All right, I am now employed. I found out that there was an opening for an English teacher at Katie's school and put my name in the hat. I am now teaching one section of Advanced 8th grade English (WONDERFUL!) and two sections of Standard 9th grade English. I am currently working my way through To Kill a Mockingbird with the 8th graders and Animal Farm with the 9th graders and recreating many of the teaching materials that I left in the States. It has been a while since I have done this, and a week to prepare was not really enough. I have also already missed 5 days of work because of sick kids. I thought they might be regretting hiring me, but I still go in everyday and no one has told me to leave. I hope that the sickness is behind us.
On one of those days when Jameson was home sick he fell and cut his head open. It necessitated a trip to the Pronto Soccorso (ER) where his head was glued and steri-stripped back together. The cut is about 1.5 inches long, but he was a brave little guy. I am proud to say that I held it together and did not get lost in the language gap when we were there. Va bene!
Maddie and Jameson are now in day care. It is a beautiful little place next door to the school where Katie and I are and it is run by nuns. I know of only one employee that speaks English (Maddie's teacher) and Jameson will now sometimes say "Ciao!" to you if you say "Hi!" to him. Maddie has also decided that she will not make friends until high school because the people at her school don't speak like her. Blaaaaaaaaaaah! Katie is loving second grade. She has already read several chapter books since starting the year and thinks her teacher is great.
On a lighter note....I went to the dermatologist a couple of weeks ago to have some moles removed. The morning before I left the house, Maddie asked where I was going. I told her I was going to have some of my moles removed. Her response..."Good, I don't like those moles, but I love your moustache."
Buona serata!

That Pesky Staircase

Well, as some of you know, I have taken a position in the English Department at a local International School. Literally in the last few days...and school starts next Wednesday! YIKES! I still don't have a schedule. I still don't have class lists. I still need a school ID (the school being protected by security and locked gates). I still don't even have all the materials - like a red pen!!! And we know how teachers like red pens. DUH!
On the bright side, I get to teach "To Kill a Mockingbird" and "A Separate Peace." I also get to do "Macbeth" and "Romeo and Juliet." I, unfortunately, have to do grammar, as well. But I get to use my soon to come red pen on that. *smile*
I feel like I have gotten back on that down staircase that I got off of 7 years ago and am still trying to go up.
Cheers!

Mommy Bumped Into Something (I Guess You Could Say That)

So in this blog we are going to enter the realms of human reproduction. If this is not interesting to you - or if you are not interested in what I might have to say about human reproduction, perhaps you should just turn us off. For those of you who are a little more adventurous...

When I was pregnant with Maddie, Katie was 3, and old enough to start asking some questions about where babies come from. Most of you know the drill - we didn't lie to her, but gave her enough information to feel that the query had been answered. I told her that mommy had eggs in her body and when she and daddy decided to have a baby, one of those eggs grew. She wanted to know how the eggs got into my body, to which I explained that all women had eggs in their bodies - even her - and that they could grow into babies when the time was right. Well, this was good information in her mind. So good that she really seemed to take it all in and think about it on her own. One day I unbuckled her from her car seat and we were walking into the store when she stopped dead in her tracks, arms straight out at her sides. "Mommy, wait! I can feel my eggs moving!" Tough as it was not to laugh, I took her hand and we continued on our way.

This summer saw the topic reenter discussions at our house. My sister and her husband welcomed a new baby while we were visiting and I have had two cousins have children this year. The girls love babies and were talking about having babies and the proverbial eggs a couple of nights ago. Katie told Maddie that when all three kids were still eggs, Maddie cracked into her and she grew into a baby. She went on to explain that Jameson's egg cracked into Maddie when I got pregnant with her. Chris and I were enjoying this health lesson, so he asked "What about Jameson?" Katie thought about it. Her conclusion, I bumped into something, cracked Jameson's egg, and there he was.

I guess for all intents and purposes this is correct. If the "thing" I bumped into is 6 feet 6 inches, brown hair and eyes, and enjoys Chris Farley movies and a round of golf.

Enough said...

Maybe I'm Older Than I Think I Am

Today, in what I am guessing was an effort to express an interest in "The West," Katie told me that she wanted to learn about the olden times, are you ready.........like the 1950s. Back when people didn't have electricity or ovens or microwaves or food! When I told her that her grandparents could give her a lot of information about the 1950s because they were alive then she was aghast. "They didn't have food!?!" I think she was equally mortified to find out that I could remember when microwaves started showing up in homes. Ahhhhhhh youth! Do you think that she would ever believe that the first computers used to take up an entire room?
If any of you have any colorful anecdotes about those days with no food or electricity, please pass them on. :)

Home is Where the...Hole(s) in the Wall Is????

All right, we're back in Bella Roma. The kids and I had a nice visit to the States (specifically Olathe, KS), but it is good to be home. I appreciated the courteous drivers of Kansas. I loved the ease of shopping at any one of greater Kansas City's 1,478,632 strip malls - or Oak Park Mall for those of you familiar with the area. I enjoyed eating out at something other than an Italian restaurant. And I loved that the kids got to reconnect with, and in Jameson's case, meet, their family. The kids loved playing with Brent and Dawn's kids, Josie and Blake, and meeting Shelly's new baby, Colt, who was born while we were there. They LOVED the dog and cats at my parent's house. And, let's be honest, nothing beats all the ice cream that one can eat at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Maddie was already telling my mom she missed her before we even got on the plane to come back. It was a good trip. It was tiring, mostly for me. I don't recommend travelling across the Atlantic with 3 kids alone on a regular basis. The worst part was standing in the passport control line at Dulles Airport in D.C. for an hour at what was around 11 p.m. Italian time. But it was still a great vacation.

I have to say that I was a little disenchanted by one thing when we got home...the holes in the kitchen wall (see Chris' blog "Crack Spackle"). I had just gotten used to the lack of holes in the ceiling before we left for the States, only to come home to holes in the wall. I guess I should be thankful that the leak was not our fault. I would hate for the people below us to think it was us, which they already were doing. I am also disappointed that I missed the crack...well, maybe not.

Katie has found a new interest - golf. She took part in golf summer camp with the Johnson County Parks and Rec while we were there and liked it enough that she wants to continue here. It is a sport that we are really encouraging her in. I know she loves horses, but clubs are cheaper than feeding and taking care of a horse, and a little safer. She is anxious to start school, has lost her 8th tooth, and is riding her bike without training wheels now. She was very reluctant to do so until this week. Not afraid to get on a giant horse, but scared of a bike without training wheels. :)

Maddie is also looking forward to school. She will be going for 2 half days a week this fall. We will probably have her go more often in the spring, but I think this is good for now. She got some ridiculous pink boots while we were back in the States and it will probably take an act of Congress to keep her from wearing them to school - where they would not fit the dress code.

Jameson gets bigger and sweeter daily. He is almost 18 months old and still reluctant to talk. He will make animal sounds, he would say "Pampaw" for my dad, he says "thank you,"and he will surprise me now and again with words, but he is still slow to talk. I figure he doesn't see the need since the girls always talk for him and he has no problems getting what he wants or needs. He really is a lovely little boy.

I will be starting my language lessons again soon. I am looking forward to it, especially since I stumbled through my trip to the grocery store today. Amazing how quickly it will leave you. We are also anticipating visits from family and friends this fall.

As nice as the summer was, and as great a time as the kids had, we were all glad to be back here at our temporary home. We may not be Italians, and this place will always be somewhat foreign to us, but it is our home. Because it is where we are together. We were missing a big part of our family this summer, with Chris staying in Europe. And we all felt it. While our normal is now in a different language, it is still our normal. Family is the most important.

Buon ferragosto!

Crack Spackle

I think we may have discussed this in previous blogs, but some things are universal. Across the globe, there are different things that we all have in common. Mean people, waiting in line at the bank, and traffic. Today I have found another universal thing that shows just how similar humans are. . .

As some of you may know, Marsha and the kids are back in Kansas with her parents. While they were away, I went on a golfing trip to Ireland. I arrived a week ago Thursday, got off the plane about 1pm, picked up the rental car, checked into the hotel and went straight to the golf course in what would be the first 18 holes of 204 holes in 5 days of play. I was on the 6^th hole at Howth Golf Club just outside of Dublin, when I happened to check my work cell phone. I noticed that I had missed two calls, unknown number, and had a text message. The text read something like this: “Yo, Fitz, you have a leak in your apt.” That was it. Thinking that it was a joke, I didn’t respond and finished my 18 holes, shot 86 by the way.

I had some dinner and then decided to give my co-worker hell for playing a “prank” on me. . . “No, there actually is a leak in your apartment and they need the keys” he said. I made some calls and found out that the leak was actually in the apartment beneath ours. Long story short, the landlady sent out a plumber, saying it was our fault because we had a drain that was clogged and it was backing up into the apartment below. The maintenance guys from work came out and said, no it was the condo’s interior pipes that had a leak. So today, a week and a day after the initial leak was discovered, they came to find the leak and fix it.

Now initially the condo’s plumber alleged that because we caused a drain to clog and thus caused the leak. . . the housing unit said no, it was the condo’s main drain that was clogged, not our responsibility. Come to find out it was a corroded pipe that had been leaking for quite some time.

I know this has been a long way around the barn, but here is why we are all similar. As the plumbers were trying to find the leak I noticed something. . . did I notice the leaky pipe? Yes. Did I see the wetness inside the wall? Yes. Did I see the enormous butt crack of the plumber? Yeah, I saw it. And, although this sounds very awkward, it made me happy to see the “humanity” in the world. . . If by “humanity” I mean a disturbing plumber’s crack, that is.

It Feels a Little Dirty, and a Little Voyeuristic, but...

I finally buckled to the pressure. I had dug my heels in for quite some time. I had resisted the pressure to live what I felt was the existence of the everyday teenager of 2009. I guess I was wrong, but it still feels a little strange.

Yeah, I am talking about Facebook. I had turned down multiple offers in the past to join this online network. I really believed that it was the domain of the teenager and college student. Then I realized that sundry friends and family members were no longer in contact with me. I knew that they had not fallen off the proverbial "face of the earth," and I figured that it was fairly impossible that I had upset them enough that they no longer wanted to talk with me - seeing as I am now thousands of miles away. Then I came to the assumption that they had been wooed by the voodoo that is Facebook and that, if I wanted to be in regular contact with them, I would have to surrender my soul to this sinister web of indulgence and addiction. I am now on facebook. I can be found under "Marsha Peterson Fitzpatrick," because, as much as I would have liked to, I did not use a pseudonym when I signed up.

I must say that this site has been wonderful in that it has put me in contact with at least one very good friend from high school, and facilitated regular contact with friends from college and adulthood. Those same friends who would never return regular emails or - GASP - write an actual letter!!! As good as all that is, I now find myself writing short (by short, I mean one or two lines) about things like the fez that Chris bought while he was in Morocco. WHO CARES - really? I also find myself reading about people's everyday comings and goings - eating dinner, watching TV, doing laundry, etc. It is almost like on line reality TV. It feels a little dirty and a little voyeuristic, but it has reconnected me with important people from my past. Ahhhhhhh technology.

That being said, it was a big week in our house. Katie finished first grade this week. She had been fighting off some kind of illness, but antibiotics enabled her to be there on her last day, Thursday. She had a great day and came home sad. She is really going to miss her friends and is already anticipating second grade in September. While I was sad that she was crying, I was so happy that she has made such good friends here and loves her school that much. I just can't believe that she is almost 7 and a second grader, to boot.
Many of you know that Chris is not making the trip back to the U.S. with us this summer. He cannot get away from work long enough to justify the cost of the trip and the time it takes to traverse the Atlantic. He is, however, going to meet up with some friends in Ireland for several days and have a short golf vacation. I am thinking that he can't wait for the day when Jameson can join him. What do you think?

Adopt a Highway?

WARNING: Not for the those with weak constitutions
I think all Americans understand the concept of highway beautification. “Adopt a Highway” is a common sign along interstate and state roads. In Italy, they don’t have that program. In fact, they don’t have any signs other than town, distance and rest stop signs. As a family we decided to drive down to Naples to prepare for the final few weeks that Marsha and the kids are here before their trip back to the US. We ensured that all of the kids had either peed or had their diaper changed prior to departure. Unfortunately, empty bladders only lasted about 45 minutes. From the backseat, Maddie called out that she needed to pee. One difference in Italy is that motorists more freely express themselves. And when I mean express themselves, I mean urinate on the side of the road. Marsha and I’ve seen them. Always men, usually travelling alone, stand on the side of the road, letting it fly, throwing caution, and urine, to the wind.
Well, Maddie said she needed to go pee, so I decided, not having a rest stop in the foreseeable future, pull off to the side of the road and do as the Romans. I stopped the car at a small pull-off, off of the A-1 Autostrada. The Autostrada has many of these safety pull-offs for stranded motorists, this specific pull-off was an S.O.S. pull off, it had a phone for emergency assistance. Good thing for us it was there. I stepped out of the car and luckily, the passing cars were speeding by, insuring that the air was not stagnant. I unbuckled Maddie and, carefully holding her hand, walked her around the rear of the car. As I came around the corner of the car I didn’t really notice anything. Maddie actually pointed it out, “Daddy, look at all the dog poop!” Yeah, Italians don’t have dogs that big. In the S.O.S. pull-off, I smelled and saw piles and piles of human feces. Some with newspaper next to it, some with tissues, but all had the look of “I need to stop NOW!”. Marsha sensed something was amiss from the passenger seat and opened the door, only to be rewarded with the odor of a 25 year old outhouse. “Don’t let Maddie step in any poop,” Marsha warned. I informed her: “Hell with the crap, don’t step in the maggots!” Think back to the movie “Poltergeist”, when the paranormal investigator is looking in the refrigerator for something to eat and sees the T-bone steak, and it immediately turns into a pile of white maggots. Think that, just instead of steak, steak after about 18 hours of digestion and several festering days alongside the highway.
It was an experience I will never forget. . . those sights and smells will be with me forever! So the next time you see and “Adopt a Highway” sign on the interstate, think about Italy and the program that I think it should create: “Adopt a Portion of Your Country-man’s Colon”
Happy Travels!

Look Out Vidal Sassoon

I guess that Chris and I had kind of come to grips with the fact that Katie just might want to ride horses, well, forever. It seems, perhaps, that that assumption might have been incorrect.
I will admit that the email I received yesterday afternoon, while detailing the reasons my eldest daughter was sent to see Sister Paulita (never a good thing for an elementary school student at Marymount), also made me laugh. I was not happy that she had to be reprimanded and miss a recess, but I was glad that the reasons for such a reprimand were such that I was not upset with her or disappointed in her.
I guess that while sitting at the arts table yesterday at school, while her teacher was reading with some other students, Katie decided to cut a little of her hair. She cut about 1.5 inches off (which she also taped to a piece of blue construction paper with about 20 pieces of Scotch tape). This prompted a boy in her class to tell her that he would not be her friend unless she also cut his hair. So she did. My understanding is that she gave his bangs a trim. His mom said later that she did a pretty good job and Katie, herself, told me that he looked better - but what is that worth????? Needless to say, her teacher spotted the chopped hair and both kids were sent to Sister Paulita's. Katie was devastated, but she is over it now.
And I have a really nice, really well preserved piece of her 6 year old hair, as her teacher sent home the evidence.
Buona giornata!

The Soundtrack of My Life

Sometimes I feel that the best part of a movie is the soundtrack. It is that little slice of memory that is triggered by a song that is sometimes the most powerful. Who can't whistle along with the tune from "The Bridge on the River Kwai," feel the anticipation and excitement of the Harry Potter music, or sense the impending dread of the two notes that signal "Jaws?" I often think that I only like a movie because of how the music makes me feel.
Which makes one ponder what the soundtrack to their own life might be. Would it be pensive and inspirational, like "Chariots of Fire?" Would it be fast and heavy handed like something from an action film? Would it be similar to the swells of music that accompany a biopic about an historical figure.
As much as I would like for my soundtrack to include great artists, I think that it would run more along the lines of popular kids' artists. I mean, all I hear in the car anymore is High School Musical, Beethoven's Wig, collections of kids' songs, or the sountrack from Spirit (horse movie - imagine that!) Ahhhhh, such is parenthood.
Bingo was his name oh!

"Mama Mia"

Maddie's friend Allie came over today to play. I always welcome the opportunity for Maddie to be with other kids her age because it helps her to learn how to share and play appropriately - something that she will need to learn how to do better before she starts school next year. I'm not saying she's bossy, she just likes things her way...well, I guess she may be a little bossy.

Anyhow, Maddie, Allie, Jameson and I were all playing in Maddie's room. Allie was playing the part of the chef and Maddie was the diner in her restaurant. As they were acting this out, I realized that they were speaking a mixture of bad Italian, English, and some made up language. It was a little bit of "Mama Mia, ciao grazie prego cooke (not a real Italian word) some pizza." I think that would translate to roughly, "Mama mia, hi thank you you're welcome cook some pizza." It was hilarious. To top it off, the two of them were wearing dress up shoes and clomping around the room. It seems that this pair of three year olds is picking up pieces of the language - and sometimes using it appropriately.

A Boy and his Ball

Well, I think there is something to be said for the nature side of "Nature vs. Nurture." Our home is full of toys traditionally considered for girls. We have princesses, dresses, sparkly shoes, a kitchen, a toy stroller, TONS of horses, etc. It is predominantly pink, glitter and fabulous - as Maddie would say. There are some blocks, a Thomas set, and a few balls. And what does Jameson always want to play with?...a ball. Once he finds one he crawls or walks around the room, throwing the ball several feet in front of him and retrieving it. He could do this for hours. But it is never a princess or a sparkly shoe he tosses...it is always a ball. And in this case, he didn't even let go when he napped.

More Mother's Day

Nothing quite compares to the gifts that children give. The artwork is precious, the kisses are wet, the laughs are genuine, and the jewelry is always something that they would like to wear. :) But it is always given with love.

Katie's school had a Mother's Day celebration this last week. The first grade sang songs and wrote poems for their moms, using the letters of each mother's name as the first letter in each line of poetry. Katie's to me is beautiful...

Mommy I love you!
A big kiss and hug
Roses or beautiful like you
Sweet kiss I give you
Horse are sweet like you
A big kiss is a wish

I know that there is love in this poem because she compares me to horses and Katie's love doesn't run much deeper. It is priceless.

Maddie behaved in true Maddie fashion - listening most of the time (with her thumb in her mouth) and claiming starvation the rest of the time. She did take a minute to pose for the camera, though.

It was a great afternoon.

A Happy Mother's Day to ME!

SHE SAID:
Earlier this past week, as Chris was working nights and preparing for another trip to Israel and a trip to Morroco, I reached my breaking point. Sensing my exasperation, Chris cancelled a golf outing yesterday and took all three kids to Naples for a small shopping expedition. I think it was more to be a break for me. And it was a nice day...
Around 10:30 I called Chris to ask him to get something that wasn't on the list. When he answered I could hear Maddie screaming in the background. Apparently she had almost tipped Jameson's stroller over, with him in it, and was being punished in the grocery store. We put off our conversation and I called him back about half an hour later. He was now in the bathroom with Maddie and, before I could get my message to him, he started yelling "NO!" to Maddie and quickly got off the phone. I called back - again - 30 minutes later. He explained that Maddie was putting her mouth on the disabled hand rail in the bathroom. :)
Chris sounded, to put it mildly, frustrated. I inquired what was wrong and he retorted, "What's wrong??? You know what's wrong! You go places with all three kids!" This was followed up with, "I love you so much."
It has been a really good Mother's Day.

HE SAID:
I knew Marsha was about to lose it, so I called off my golf outing, loaded up the kids and headed to the little peice of America in Italy, the US Navy Support Site. On the way down, everything was fine, girls laughing and playing nicely together. . . until Jameson fell asleep and after warning Maddie and Katie, and then Maddie again, to be quiet and not wake him, I look in the rear view and Maddie has her hand on his head and he is awake. Listening, Strike 1. A little while later I look back and Maddie has taken off her shoes and is holding the bottom of the shoe on Jameson's nose and mouth. Yeah, Strike 2.
We get there and Maddie continues not to listen and then nearly pulls Katie and Jameson's stroller over, STRIKE 3, a "wal-mart" spank in the aisle and sitting in the "penalty box" cause her to begin to cry. Marsha calls, I'm assuming from bed. See above.
Flash forward to the second call, Maddie has to go to the bathroom so we go in. I hoist her up onto the handicapped raised toilet. She is facing to the side of the toilet, holding onto the support railing, or as it is now called the "teething rail". As I'm talking to Marsha, calling to have me get some cheese, I see Maddie mouthing the railing like a horse mouths a bit. It rivaled Katie's licking of the tea cups in Disneyland at that age.
The rest of the day was uneventful, and by uneventful I mean stressfull. I have never said that I could do a Mom's job. In fact I admit that men, or most men, can not. That is just a fact of Nature. We don't have the patience, the common sense or the raw talent to care for children. That is why we are called DADS and all you have to do on father's day is get us a bad paisley printed tie. . .

Carrying on a Family Tradition...maybe.

I am sure that somewhere, deep within the reaches of her mind, my mom has always hoped that either myself or my sister, Shelly, would take up sewing and/or quilting. My childhood is peppered with memories of her working on clothing for us kids, quilts for family (I distinctly remember a red cat quilt that she made for her sister that took at least 3 years), or these little old woman heads that she sold at local craft shops in Wichita. She, undoubtedly is very skilled in this type of art. She even made her own wedding dress and is currently making beautiful primitive hooked rugs. Therefore, I have decided to carry on her legacy. No laughing please.

In those deep reaches where I am sure my mom wants one of us to start quilting, I am sure she was also hoping that it wouldn't be me who would want to take it up. I am notorious for starting things of this nature and not finishing them. My mom finally finished a stuffed Christmas tree decoration that I started in Mrs. Frazey's third grade class, as I showed no potential for getting it done on my own. We still talk about this failed endeavor on occasion. Actually, to be more exact, she reminds me of it whenever I entertain the idea of sewing again. And rightfully so.

Lately, however, I have decided that I want to take a stab at quilting. My mom's quilts, especially the spectacular quilt she made for me when I was in school, have always impressed me. I also have a friend who quilts who recently told me, when I inquired if she sold her quilts, that she keeps them for her family's collection. It got me thinking; I would like to make something like that for MY family to collect. So I am going to start - or at least try - to do this.

I am attaching a picture of some of the fabrics I am going to use. Let's hope I don't butcher this. I will keep you all updated as to my progress, or lack thereof...

She Wants What?????

Any mom knows that as soon as your child(ren) can walk and talk they decide that the best time and/or place to talk (but let's be honest...it's really pestering) to you is when you are either on the phone or in the bathroom. All I have to do is dial a number and children who have been ignoring me, even when I'm talking directly to them, suddenly need my undivided attention to answer questions, hear a story about their horses, or stop a fight. The same goes for the bathroom. I look for 2 minutes ALONE to use the restroom, but that always ends up being about 30 seconds alone and 3 and a half minutes telling kids to leave me alone. My children even went so far one time as to tell me that Chris deserved privacy in the bathroom because he had cooked them dinner. If that is the measure, I have earned about 67 years of privacy.
That being said, ever since the little potty incident (see "Pee is Sterile" blog, below) Chris has banned said potty from the house. That means that Maddie has to use the "big girl potty." Those of you who have been to Europe know that the majority of Italian toilets have a very narrow seat. It is more like sitting on the rim of a traditional American toilet. Because of this, there is a high risk of Maddie actually falling into the bowl, so we help her on to the seat when she has to go. She has now decided that we have to leave her alone in the restroom when she is having a bowel movement. This usually involves us standing outside the bathroom, out of view, while she sings a High School Musical song and does her business.
Perhaps if I break into song the kids will leave me alone, too. "Yellow Submarine" anyone?

Pee is Sterile, right?

I figured I would take a break from the excitement of my trip to Jerusalem to inform you all of what happened upon my return. Somehow, Marsha and I were “volunteered” to work at a school event. As happy as we both were to get the kids ready, and then spend the remainder of the day juggling working at a table selling food and watching our kids to ensure that they didn’t get into trouble, we both would have preferred to sit at home and enjoy some family time since I hadn’t seen the family for a week.

Upon our arrival, I discovered that my “station” the grill had 7 qualified men, armed with grill utensils and pumped up to be cooking over open coals. I gladly bowed out from grill duty and settled into feed the kids. After lunch Katie and Maddie took off with friends to play. Maddie somehow found something that irritated her skin and after our nut scare with Katie decided to bow out of the rest of the day and take her home for a quick bath and possible Benadryl cocktail.

As we arrive, I get Maddie’s bath ready and Marsha gets a towel for her. I heard a small shout, and Marsha calling for assistance. As I round the corner, Marsha has one foot in the air. “I stepped in pee” Maddie’s training potty had mysteriously leaked and pee was all over the floor. As I gave Marsha something to clean off her foot, I began working on the floor. I contained the outer edges of the spill with napkins and then began working at the epi-center of the spill. I opened the lid and pulled the reservoir out of the training potty, unfortunately for me, I just let the lid drop.

Why is that unfortunate? Well, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll tell you.

The reason that allowing a training potty lid to close at the speed of gravity is that when it comes to a stop, if any pee is trapped where the lid comes to rest, it will be forced outward. Again, this is unfortunate as I was leaning over and the pee that was trapped under the lid came spurting out onto my shirt and into my beard.

I refuse to say that it actually went into my mouth, just for my own mental health, which if honestly were the best policy, I drank a “pee-spoon” full.

I wonder if Marsha will still kiss me after seeing droplets of pee hanging in my beard? Either way, it’s cool. . . pee is sterile. . . .right?

The Holy City, Part 1

I have just returned from probably one of the most surreal work trips I ever could have imagined. As a young boy growing up you dream of going to places, mostly in Europe, as that is where most of America’s culture was derived. I never thought that I would have an opportunity to travel to a place like Jerusalem.

The first time I went I only spent about 2 hours on the outskirts of the city. I had some meetings to attend and didn’t have any time to get into the Old City. That was okay with me, due to the fact that as I was exiting the building, I could hear some light arms fire from over one of the hills. Probably just a few “celebratory” rounds in the air, but none the less, unnerving.

This trip I was able to spend a greater portion of my time in the Old City. I’ve travelled to the Middle East three times and each time you arrive with some concern for you safety. While the chances are good you will come out safe and sound, your mind never truly allows you to relax. Most hotels you check into require you to go through a security check point, even if you are staying at the hotel.

I was able to have a tour inside the walls of the city and was very excited for the opportunity. We walked through the pedestrian streets where sometimes no more than two people across could fit. Markets and stalls on either side sold items of tourist interest, others sold spices and clothes. Most are the hokey junk that us Westerners eat up like “Holy City Spoons”, gold crucifix necklesses that would turn your neck green, etc. They even have “ancient” pottery. . . not truly ancient, just new pottery that has been rolled in sand and dust.

Signs in Arabic, Hebrew and English are everywhere. Market owners usually speak all three, but I heard one owner speaking Japanese to some tourists.

Our tour started at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the probable location for Christ’s Crucifixion and Entombment. The Church was controlled for the majority of history by Muslims to ensure that Greek Orthodox and Catholics, along with Armenian Christians, didn’t get into ownership disputes inside the building. Inside the building, which at one point was outside, there are specific locations that are “owned” by each religion.

I’ve been to a ton of religious buildings during my life and most, if not all, have a very solemn feel. No one is talking loudly, everyone is showing proper respect for the place. Sadly, however, this place, the most Holy for most believers, was not at all quiet. There was commotion, people talking, crying, moving around and jostling for a spot on line. It was difficult to find a quiet place to grasp what is believed to have happened there. I think it is because it is a true “melting-pot” of religious and cultural ideals or they just forget themselves overcome by the place.

Calvary

I was able to touch the hole where Christ’s cross was believed to be anchored and the location where his body was prepared for entombment.

Calvary

Stone of Unction

I was unable to go into the tomb, but plan on visiting that on my next trip.

Tomb of Jesus

My tour guide told me that a large number of tourists don’t want to go into the Church as they are so put off by the less than reverent behavior by the visitors. I found that as with everything in life, it is what you make of it. The visitors can be loud, annoying and even obnoxious, but maybe that is what the Big Guy wanted. . . a place where you are tested to find His peace. . . .

How I Know She's Mine

So, do you ever have those days when you look at your children and wonder from where they came? Like when you think that there is no way that you would have a child that would knowingly play in the toilet; or there is no way that someone who is of your own flesh would think that dipping bananas in ketchup is EVER a good idea; or you marvel that they can sing when you can't carry a tune in a bucket?

Well, Maddie is my child that I look at and think, "She's the one that is most different from me." I think, however, that is because I look at her and see, physically, more of Chris. She has his coloring, his eyes, and looks a lot like him and his mom. However, Maddie, at times, is the spitting image of me as a kid. For instance, her new night time routine. We recently moved a bookcase in her room and most mornings I find at least 10 books in her bed. I hear her "reading" these books to her animals as she falls asleep. I can remember staying up until all hours with a flashlight just to read more. My parents finally relented and bought me a reading light. I still have to read - even if it is only a paragraph - before I sleep every night. Old habits die hard...and are born again in the young.

Sweet Dreams!

Looking for Advice

All right, for the first time in this blog's history, I am looking for a little input. I hope you all can give me some advice.

This Wednesday Katie had an allergic reaction to a cashew. I don't think that she had ever eaten cashews, but about a minute after eating two she told me her throat hurt and she started getting hives on her face. Luckily a dose of Benadryl (something all families should have in their medicine cabinets, if you ask me) and some topical hydrocortisone took away her symptoms. That being said, we are currently in a no nut holding pattern. Having been told that a nut allergy can show up at any time, we have to assume, until testing has been done, that she is now allergic to all nuts...including peanuts.

And that brings me to the advice that I am soliciting from all of you. I am searching for "nut-free" snack and food alternatives to have in the house from now on - at least until we know the extent of her allergies. Many of you know that lots of unassuming foods contain nuts or are exposed to nuts and many of you know, or are, families that have members who have such allergies. I am hoping that you might be able to provide me with some products or companies that are sensitive to this issue.

Thanks so much in advance. Hope you all are having a nice Spring!

The Wisdom of Elders

To get into our apartment is no small feat. First, one must have either a gate opener (like a garage door opener) to drive through the gate, or a key to open the walk-through gate. After entering the grounds a key, a different key, mind you, is needed to access the service elevator and stairwell. This elevator opens up on each floor to the kitchen, or back, door of each apartment. If one wants to get to the front door of an apartment, a third key is needed to operate the second elevator. This elevator provides access to the front doors of both apartments on each floor. In addition to the aforementioned 3 keys and one gate opener, we have four, count 'em FOUR, more keys to the apartment. Two to the back door and two to the front door (and no, none of the locks are the same). Lastly, we have a key that opens the gate, in case the opener is out of commission or missing and one more that opens a door between the service entrance and front door. That makes 9 keys and one opener. Oh, and did I mention that two of the keys are weirdly large and ancient looking. I have a very heavy key ring.

That being said, Chris has drummed it into the kids' heads that they are not to open the front door without Mom or Dad, as they don't know who might be on the other side. In the case of our apartment here, the chances that ANYONE might be outside our door are slim and none. But the girls are very serious about not letting the bad guy in. As Katie, the elder, so eloquently said this morning, "Bad guys don't knock. They are not very polite." I should say not.

The Easter Bunny Must Be GIANT in Italy!

Buona Pasqua!

It was almost like Christmas here at our home today. Katie woke me up at 4:38, yes 4:38. Too early, if you ask me. We held them off until around 7:00 a.m., but then the hunt began.

Here in Italy they sell these giant, hollow, chocolate eggs at Easter time. They are wrapped in shiny mylar-like paper and each has a different theme, like Superman, Tom and Jerry, Disney Princesses, etc. Inside the egg is a large plastic capsule which has a toy inside. They are quite the Easter treat, but I have deduced that the Easter Bunny must be GIANT in order to haul all of the eggs around. Katie got a fairy in her egg, Maddie received a nail sticker kit, and Jameson had a Cars themed frisbee.

Not like the Peeps, marshmallow eggs, and Brach's jelly-beans I remember, but when in Rome...

It Wasn't the "Magic Fingers"

Do you remember those beds in older hotel rooms that had that "Magic Fingers" option where you could put a quarter in the box next to the bed and it would shake? To a kid, it was always a lot of fun, until the shaking got kind of nauseating and you wondered if the bed would ever shut off or if you would have to go to sleep shaking like that. Well, we shook in bed last night and I can guarantee you that there is no "Magic Fingers" box on my night stand.
Early this morning, around 3:30, a considerable earthquake hit central Italy, about 50 miles from Rome. I initially thought that one of the girls was trying to wake me up and shaking me a little. When I sat up and realized that the walls were also shaking, I understood that something else was going on. It was pretty scary and I had a tough time getting back to sleep. Fortunately, we are okay, something not everyone else can say.
Growing up in Kansas you kind of get a feel for what a tornado day or sky feels or looks like. I have no idea what earthquake weather is, but wish I had a sixth sense. Hopefully this is the last of them.

The Lives and Loves of the Young

Well, Spring has arrived in Rome. While it has been a little muggy, the weather has really been quite beautiful for the better part of two weeks. And as they say....In Spring a young man's (woman's) fancy turns to love.

Katie is quite infatuated with a little boy in her class, Pablo. He is Spanish, or at least part Spanish and Katie thinks he is quite nice. She once told me that when he looks at her he has a twinkle in his eye - awwwwwwww! Yesterday, however, on the way home from riding lessons, she told me about a different boy in her class who loves her, at least according to her. She told me his name and then went on to say that he is small. I told her it doesn't matter how tall someone is, to which she retorted, "But I can pick him up." Apparently the measure for possible loves is the inability to lift them. I am quite sure that I can't pick Chris up, so perhaps she is on to something. She also told me that she wishes she were a boy. When I inquired why, she responded, "I don't want to birth." After being reassured that she did not have to have babies if she did not want, she told me that she wished boys had the babies. Ahhhh, now I am certain she is on to something. She will grow up into a fine woman.

Maddie is not quite to the point where she loves boys, but she has adorations all her own. We have a friend from the States who is currently visiting Italy. We all went to the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel on Tuesday, followed by lunch at an outdoor cafe. Maddie is a big fan of pizza Margherita (cheese pizza) and gelato. She managed to have both at the same time on this particular day. She was a happy little girl.

Jameson may not have a real love per se, but he has found something to detest. He hates the pack 'n play. He spends quite a bit of time in it because I can't let him crawl all around the apartment, due to the marble floors. Well, he has decided that it is not okay to not be on the floor playing with blocks or little people or the train - ALL THE TIME. I am happy to do so, I just can't do it all the time. So begin the years when the kids are mad at mom.

The Year of the ..........

Do you know how the Chinese have a different animal for each year; like, you may have been born in the Year of the Chicken or the Year of the Rat? While I personally do not know in what year I was born, or even what this year technically is, I am declaring this the Year of the Mom.
For the last seven years I have been a mom and a wife. This year I am going to be Marsha. It was in February of 2002 that I started puking in my pregnancy with Katie (those of you who know, know I have an insatiable urge to purge through the better part of 2 trimesters in each pregnancy), and now Jameson is 13 months old so I feel like I can safely, sanely, and selfishly redirect a little of my love back to myself.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the children more than I could ever love myself, but feel that to give them my best I need to find myself again in the pile of laundry, lunches, and diapers that is now my existence. I need to commit to finding a voice for the Marsha I am now. Not the teacher, or the soccer player, or just the wife - but the Marsha that is all those things, as well as a mom. I think I may need to redefine who I am and the expectations I have for myself because, let's be honest, I do not have the luxury of real free time anymore, but I do not have to forget to do for myself. Do I sound like a promo for an Oprah show?
Perhaps I will take a trip...by myself or with a friend. Perhaps I will pick up a new hobby. Perhaps I will just take the time to be alone for an hour several times a week to read, walk or visit a new museum. All I know is that I am ready to find the person that I am now - without the trappings of trying to please someone else, just myself.
I'll let you know how the journey goes.

I Always Knew (Feared) They Were There...

Those of you who have known me, in some cases all of my life, know that I had very blonde hair as a child. This hair has gotten progressively darker as I've aged, but was still pretty blonde when I was in college - probably mainly due to the amount of time I spent outside. That being said, I found the need to "assist" my hair and its pursuit of golden hues around age 21. So began the endless process of highlighting.
I had been quite good maintaining the color (well, there were roots at times) until about 2 years ago when I decided that I wanted to take a break and see what my actual hair color is at this point in my life. As I suspected it is dull ashy brown. I have no problem with having brown hair, but mine is lifeless on its own. I would love to hair the color of either of my siblings; Brent's is very dark, almost black, and Shelly's has always had these nice carmel colored streaks. Mine is just blah.
So I decided to get highlights again after Jameson was born. I have to say that I have not been very good at maintaining it and was inspecting it in the glare of natural light yesterday morning when it noticed it...a long grey hair. Now, Chris has had some grey hairs for several years now and I knew that I must have some, too, but, WOW, it was just shining and producing a glare and kind of waving at me. It kind of takes your breath away, and not in a good, "I'm so excited" way. Such is life, I guess.
Well, I am happy to say that I am not vain, I am not bothered by this hair, and I know I will grow old gracefully. That being said, can anyone recommed a good home coloring brand? :)
Cheers!

Happy St. Pat's!

Oh how far we’ve come. . .
I wore green yesterday. In fact, I wear green everyday. My ID badge is a green Jameson Whiskey lanyard. So as folks harassed me about only wearing the everyday lanyard and a tie with a small amount of army green in it, I was not offended.

I used to celebrate in the “usual” manner, drinks early and drinks late, maybe make a lamb stew and some soda bread, but this year as we commemorated our second “Fitzpatrick’s Day” in Italy, Marsha and I took a different approach.

I got home, Marsha gave the boy a bath and then we all sat down to watch Dancing with the Stars. As we sat there, I was holding Jameson, Katie was at my feet, Marsha was sitting on the love seat and Maddie was in the corner “straining” on her training potty. I looked over a Marsha and smiled. “Oh how far we’ve come from 10 years ago” I noted. Marsha turned to me and said “Well, at least you are still holding a Jameson.”
And that my friends, is what St. Patrick’s Day has become for us. (No, not listening to the sounds of a 3 year old congratulating herself for extricating number 2 in the corner) Enjoying the family. . .

I still had a few Guinness though. How could I not?

I Like to Think of it as a "Love Tap"

So I know that I have mentioned the drivers in Rome; and I know that Chris has a blog entry that he is waiting to post until he has a good picture to accompany it, but this entry from me could not wait.
For some reason the drivers here in the hub of civilization are among the worst in the world. The Italians, and Romans in particular, have given the world so much. Like who isn't amazed by the Pantheon and the Forum and those amazing aqueducts? But I say hold your applause. While the Romans certainly mastered the art of the dome, produced amazing artists and dominated the world (at least at one point), they have a terrible time managing their Vespas, Fiats and Opels in the year 2009. I should insert a disclaimer at this point and state that not all Romans are bad drivers...but Katie did say on Jameson's birthday that he would probably be a bad driver when he grew up because he is, technically, a Roman. Even a 6 year old knows it!
The Corso di Francia is a very busy street that we must travel in order to get in to the city center. It is a 3 lane road that is regularly made 5 lane by the intrepid Roman drivers. It is usually choked with cars, and any space between the cars is filled with motorini. One day this past week, as I was driving in to the center I noticed a older gentleman in an older Mercedes-Benz making his way slowly down the hill towards the Corso di Francia. Unremarkable, especially since he was a good 18 inches or more over the line - another thing that all Roman drivers seem to see as "proper operating procedure." I made a mental note that he was one of which I should be wary, the kind of driver that could cause problems for me. I am not kidding when I say that 2 minutes later this gentleman ran into the back of my car as I was stopped at a light. He did not hit me hard. He did not hurt anyone or cause any damage. He also did not act like it was strange that he was so close to me that I could have strapped him into Katie's booster seat. I tried to be mad, but I couldn't muster the ire over my incredulity. How amazing that he apparently did not even know his car hit mine. Perhaps it was the fine German engineering in his Benz that made his senses impervious to our "contact." Perhaps he was just playing dumb because making a face or gesture to me would have been an admittance of his poor driving, or stopping, rather, ability. Or perhaps he was just practicing good diplomacy and his bump into my car was more a love tap...a way to, silently, tell me how much he likes Americans. :)

Who Knew That They Were So Important?

There are a lot of things that you know you will miss when you move abroad. I knew that I would miss my friends and family, our home, our pets, certain restaurants and shops, etc. I did not, however, realize that I would miss something, or someone, rather, that I had, regrettably and apologetically, never properly appreciated before. I miss the men and women who bag groceries. I had no idea how wonderful a service this was until I found myself checking out in a foreign language, in a foreign country, while trying to keep an eye on 3 young children and bag 150 euro in groceries. It is a very pressure packed situation. And one that I must say at which I am not very good. Nothing like waiting for the slow-poke in front of you to get his pasta, wine and vegetables in his bags so that you can start bagging you own...all the while holding off the pushy lady behind you with her cat food, proscuitto, and, yes, wine. :)

Oh, and I actually bought some of the horse baby food today. Just to prove that it does exist.

All right, on a different note, E.T. is in my bedroom. As we wait for the "gentlemen" renovating the apartment above us to finish the demolition so that they can come and repair the patches in our ceiling we have come to recognize and, in this case, name the holes that currently exist. This one is E.T. Looks like his head and torso, no?

The funny thing about this is that Maddie is terrified of E.T. She saw part of the movie once, which Katie loves. She was pretty upset with the image of E.T. scuttling around the house at the beginning of the film. Then Katie, in typical older sister fashion, told Maddie one night as they were going to sleep that E.T. was in their bedroom. Well, it has been a few months since that happened and I still have to reassure her that E.T. is pretend, is not in her room, and is not coming out of the television - like when we were walking in front of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence and she turned to me and said, "E.T. is pretend, right Momma?" Yep, that's right.

Chris' Post

Married life is funny. Unlike most things today, you can’t get the answers from the Internet or “Internets” if you prefer. There are “Marriage 101” sites that go into the “Right and Wrong Reasons to Get Married”, “Expectations in Marriage” and my favorite section “Myths of Marriage”. I can’t say that I believed any of the listed “myths” prior to our marriage, “marriage will end your loneliness, conflict means lack of love, you won’t have major problems if you truly love one another” etc. One of my friends took the dip into married life and I explained that things are different when you get married. He didn’t believe me, but now, as we plan a golf outing to Ireland, he is realizing that it is different. You don’t just say “I’m going on a golf trip.” You have to be political about it, diplomatic even. And that is what marriage is; Diplomacy at its finest. You have to juggle what is important to you, as an individual; a couple and, in our case, a family. The side show act of tossing objects into the air and keeping them aloft all while playing to the crowd is very similar to marriage. I think my wife and I are on the same page when I say that we have become Diplomat Jugglers. We’re just glad our side show includes a “strong-man”, a “daredevil” and a “horse-girl”. . .

Bon Voyage!

Almost every single day of the year I do not envy my husband and his job. I do not wish it was me getting up and putting business attire on every morning, heading off to a job where I have to be be nice to and professional with others, especially those in foreign countries. Let's be honest, I enjoy that I can be at the house in pajama pants all day if I want, donning jeans only to meet Katie's bus in the afternoon. Let's be even more honest and admit that I may not be the best at being nice to, let alone professional with, foreign counterparts. :)

However, recent events have me feeling a little different. Chris' travels, especially since we moved to Rome, have taken him to some pretty interesting places. He has also been to some places that are not high on my list of travel destinations. For instance, I have nothing against Albania, but have no desire to visit. I also have no burning urge to vacay in El Salvador. I do however want to go back to Paris, which is where he is going this next week. I will miss the opportunity to break out my rusty high school French (Ou est la tour Eiffel? Comment ca-va? Voulez vous couchez avec moi c'est soir? - well, maybe not the last one...). I will miss the opportunity to marvel at the interior of the Saint Chapelle. I will miss the opportunity to gaze at "Tristesse du Roi" by Matisse at the Pompidou. Most of all it means that I will be at home with the kids (not a bad thing), with their runny noses, their laundry, and my bothersome sinus infection (bad things).

Perhaps I should find my own reason to take a business trip to Paris.

The Big Party!

Well, we celebrated Jameson's first birthday on Saturday. He was a big fan of the spaghetti and especially the cake. There was much assistance from his sisters when it came to opening his presents, but he did his share of oohing and squealing. Such fun. And impossible to believe he is already one.

The Men In My Life

It seems impossible that it has been a year since our little boy joined the family, but it has. One year ago, around 1 p.m., Jameson McGregor was born. You're never prepared for the love that a new baby brings; I have even found it tough to imagine, before the baby was born, that I could love someone new as much as I love the children I already have, but there has always been room, and no doubt for the all consuming ardor that washes over me when I see that new face for the first time. So has been the case with Jameson. He is so happy, so quick to give a full face grin, so sweet to smell, so warm to hold, so soft to touch. He really has made the family complete. My little man.

That being said, I am no one-woman baby making machine (although there have been times I've been convinced I could have done it all on my own!). The picture of Chris with each of our newborn children is equally as moving as the ones of the babies on their own. I see a reflection of my love for the children in his face. I also see a bit of his love for me, which is priceless. I never doubt that Chris loves me, but it seems somehow different when viewed as his love for our children. These little people are capsules of the commitment that we have made to one another and a testament to the joy (no snickering) that we find in one another. To see him dressed for work still makes me a little weak, to feel the comfort of his arms still makes me feel safe, and his bad jokes and pokes of fun still make me laugh. And I have no doubt this will always be the case. I only hope that my son grows to love his family as my husband loves us. I only wish that Chris' dad could see the family man his son has become.

So I write this for the men in my life...