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.