Adventures in potty training

The girls and I are looking forward to taking a trip next week. It’s the 50th anniversary of Los Angeles Lutheran Jr/Sr High School, so we thought we’d attend the celebrations. It’s been three years since we’ve seen many of our friends, former students and colleagues. We’re also going to spend some time in Arizona, my folks had their 40th anniversary at Easter but we weren’t able to make it back.

We decided to drive rather than fly, so I’m excited to test out the new minivan and I’m excited to get to see all he awesome landscapes this great land has to offer. Grace is excited to see the beach and her new cousin, "baby Daniel," and if she’s lucky, a Diamondbacks game.

"Me like beesbwall," she says whenever we catch a game on TV.

There is something I’m not looking forward to. Bethany’s grandma doesn’t like the fact that we’re traveling, let alone to L.A. while the nation’s on an orange terrorism alert, but that doesn’t phase me. We’re driving, not flying so we’ll avoid all the hassle of upgraded security. I admit, if I let myself, my earthquake-phobia could creep into the back of my mind, but that’s not what I’m dreading most about this trip.

My biggest fear is potty time.

Let me ask you something. How old do you think a child should be for it to be appropriate for a father to stop taking his daughter to the men’s room? I’m thinkin four. I’ll tell you why.

First of all, men’s public restrooms are generally disgusting. Some gas stations or truck stops are cleaner than others. Rest Areas vary on their maintenance quality greatly from state to state. I have found that Nebraska and Iowa do a much better job for example than say, Kansas and Colorado.

Without dwelling too long on a distasteful subject, I should explain to you ladies that each of the four walls in a men’s stall has a unique purpose generally not seen in women’s restrooms. I know only because I’ve drawn a paycheck as a janitor when I was younger.

One wall inevitably is reserved for phone numbers, this of course is a stereotype you’ve seen in sitcoms and movies, but it’s one that’s true. Another, depending on local demographics, is reserved for chewing gum. These walls are quite interesting from an artist’s point of view, actually, since different brands have different colors and textures. From the parent of a four year old, on the other hand, it’s a hassle to keep their hands of the used confections and to explain that one only wants to chew fresh, new gum that one unwraps one’s self.

The next wall is a gross one, so skip this paragraph if you have a weak stomach. It’s the booger wall. Yes, ladies, we know it’s impolite to pass gas and pick our noses in public, so it has to be done somewhere, where else would you suggest? With fewer and fewer men carrying handkerchiefs, if you don’t eat it, it has to go somewhere. Though I for one don’t know what’s wrong with toilet paper, but in men’s defense, most public restrooms are always out.

The last wall, (two if there’s no bubble gum wall) is dedicated to a number of things. Partly as sort of a message board. On the internet, they’d call this a "bulletin board," or a "news group." In a men’s room these can be sexual solicitations or social-political discussions, often featuring racial epithets and allegations of unconventional sexual preference. Perhaps most interesting to anthropologists hundreds of years from now will be the displays of erotic artwork.

Needless to say, the more Grace can recognize letters and words and the more questions she keeps asking, the less I want to be responsible for her and the more comfortable with putting Bethany in charge.

Not long ago, Ellie, our youngest showed an interest in getting potty trained. When a 16 month old does that, you’ve got to take advantage of your narrow window of opportunity. We figure on taking along an "adapter," you know, one of those mini-seats that you put on top of the main seat for tiny fannies.

Here’s how the break-thru went. I’ve since apologized to Bethany for my insensitive reaction.

Ellie followed her sister into the bathroom, pulled down her britches, unfastened her diaper, sat on the trainer-potty and tinkled all by her self. Bethany was elated. Like any proud mom, she immediately called her mom to celebrate the achievement with "Grammy."
This is when I came home from school to find Ellie in the living room, still no pants, leaving a trail of poops behind her

Memorial Day

"Memorial Day...celebrates and solemnly reaffirms from year to year a national act of enthusiasm and faith. It embodies in the most impressive form our belief that to act with enthusiasm and faith is the condition of acting greatly"

~Oliver Wendell Holmes
From an address delivered for Memorial Day, May 30, 1884

Monday is Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, Ashes Day, not to be confused with Labor Day, it’s book end on the other side of summer or Veteran’s Day, it’s half-brother which was really intended for the living. Since World War I, it’s also been called Poppy Day, because volunteers sell small, red artificial flowers as a fund-raiser for disabled veterans.

Legend has it that throughout history, after major wars red poppies seem to pop up on battlefields and on soldiers graves. Poppy seeds lay dormant in the soil until it is violently turned or dug up, causing them to sprout.

After WWI in Flanders Field, Belgium. In the bomb craters and on mounds of rubble, poppies bloomed everywhere. The heavily churned earth and high concentration of lime from the limestone buildings made the perfect catalyst for the poppies to grow.

Some thought that the red poppies looked spilled blood. British mothers wore poppies in remembrance of their lost sons. The poppy has since become a symbol of peace and of remembering the sacrifice of the fallen soldier.

Memorial Day may have began in 1868, when Civil War General John A. Logan, commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, a Union veterans’ organization, said that May 30th should be special day to decorate the graves of Union soldiers.

He may have chose May 30th on the suggestion of a Franco-American veteran, who noted that May 30th was "The Day of Ashes" in France-the day that Napoleon's remains were returned to France in 1840 from his exile to the island of St. Helena 1200 miles off Africa. What Napoleon’s ashes have to do with Union veterans, I have no idea.

Northern states celebrate Memorial Day on the last Monday in May. This became a federal holiday in 1971. In the deep South, Memorial Day celebrations honor Confederate soldiers who died in "the war between the states." Mississippi and Alabama celebrate Confederate Memorial Day on the last Monday in April. In Florida and Georgia, the date is April 26. May 10 is Memorial Day in North and South Carolina, and the holiday is June 3 in Kentucky, Louisiana, and Tennessee. Texas observes Confederate Heroes Day on January 19 (Robert E. Lee's birthday).

The first large observance was held in 1868 at Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. The cemetery already held the remains of 20,000 Union dead and several hundred Confederate dead. After speeches, children from the Soldiers' and Sailors' Orphan Home and members of the GAR made their way through the cemetery, strewing flowers on both Union and Confederate graves, reciting prayers and singing hymns.

Many Americans don’t know is that how Arlington came to be our national cemetery. Arlington was the home of Gen. Robert E. Lee. Perhaps to send his family a message, Union sympathizers piled the remains of Confederate dead at his doorstep. You can imagine the stench.

Unfortunately the significance of this holiday is sometimes forgotten, buried in ads, sales, barbecues and water sports. It’s easy to see Memorial Day as just another day off. It certainly has a sweetness as the gateway to summer and a time for friends and families to gather.

But especially with two wars just in the last two years, I think we need to remember it for what it was intended, a day of mourning, and prayer for and gratitude to the men and women who lost their lives in the line of duty and their families.

Buy a poppy to support Veterans’ charities, pray for the widowed and orphaned families of the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, and thank God for your freedoms.

"Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Dream of battled fields no more.
Days of danger, nights of waking."

~Sir Walter Scott
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Teenagers, Read This!

I figure you didn’t nominate me to speak at your graduation for a lot of very good reasons. For one thing, you don’t know me from Adam. For another I’m not famous. At my high school graduation we had the local weather guy come in a news helicopter.

I have no idea what he said. It was God-awful hot on the football field in June in that polyester graduation gown and he was kind of a goof.

Another reason you didn’t ask for me is that I haven’t done anything amazing and I don’t have a ton of Master’s or Doctorate degrees. At my college graduation we had some missionary who was the director of all kinds of international education or ministry programs or something.

Thinking of him reminds me of another reason you probably didn’t ask for me, I tend to go on and on forever. A good commencement address, or any speech really shouldn’t go on for more than say seven to ten minutes. When I plan for three, I end up talking for anywhere from 15 to 20.

I do remember at least ONE thing my college graduation speaker said. He said something along the lines of "when a butterfly flaps it’s wings in China, it creates a hurricane in Australia."

His point is a good one for you too. What he meant was that EVERYONE makes an impact. Even what seems like the most insignificant action can have enormous impact. Like a smile, a helping hand, letting someone else cut in front of you in line, telling someone that you appreciate what they did or encouraging them. Someone once called these "random acts of kindness."

I’m also well aware of the fact that you didn’t hire me to speak because I’m not an alumnus. A couple of years ago COU had Dr. John Hoffman speak at your graduation. He graduated from COU a year after I graduated from Shadow Mountain.

Today John’s the Dean of Students at Concordia University in Irvine, CA. Personally, I remember thinking that he gave one of the best commencement address I’d ever heard, but frankly, I don’t remember much of what he told kids either.

Since the school board didn’t see fit to invite me to speak to you, here now are some important things you should think about. You might even want to cut this out and tape it to something in your dorm room, or room, or locker at work, or foot locker in the barracks, or in your car or whatever:

Enjoy the ride. No two years of your life will be more intense or exhilarating than the next two. I could speculate about why, but who cares, the point is everybody has been telling you to appreciate high school as the "best years of your life," but really, the next six months will be like the last 4 years squeezed together.

People are more important than things. Measure your success in people, not things. Who have you helped, who has helped you, who have you learned from, who has learned from you? Who do you love? If you measure your success in money or possessions, you’ll either hurt yourself or hurt others.

Don’t burn the bridges you cross. Many of you can’t wait to "get the heck out of this one-horse town." Someday you may appreciate what it gave you, stability, strength, values, sense of belonging. As a matter of fact, someday you may even need those things and miss them. Don’t think that you can’t come home again. You can, if not to Charter Oak and Ute, then at least to some other small town.

With creativity, ingenuity, commitment, and most of all perspective, you can be successful and live comfortably anywhere. Don’t be afraid to go to Washington, Chicago, New York, China, Japan. Feel free to try Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, or Minneapolis. But don’t be afraid to come home either.

Farmer, blue-collar worker, professional, or entrepreneur, you can survive, and even thrive right here if that is what you choose. If that’s not what you choose, that’s fine, but don’t ever regret or deny where you come from, it is a huge part of who you are.

Be proud of that. We are proud of you.

Finally, think about what Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich wrote to graduates back in 1997:

"Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.

I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt."

Face it, we all become our parents and once you hit your twenties, you’re going to secretly wish that COU would ask you to give a graduation address too. Adults are always trying to give advice to kids, and you will too. Mary Schmich gave some incredibly profound advice in her column. If you don’t remember anything else from this column, PLEASE remember this:

Class of 2003, "Wear sunscreen." Congratulations and good luck.

Important enough to try

A few weeks ago a very dear reader gave me a hug and shared with me how much she enjoyed my column. Then she told me how much she approved of many of the views I share in it, because they sound almost Republican.

Well, first I’d like to think I know my readers and how far I can push you. Second, I’ve always thought of myself as a moderate anyway, fiscally conservative, opposed to reckless spending and fat Federal deficits, but progressive on issues of social justice and equality. Be that as it may, I hope you’ll forgive me if I lean just a little to the left this issue.

Health insurance is a great concern that has been troubling me for some time. Boyer Valley we have to pay 100% of our own family health insurance. They give us an offset that singles don’t receive, but I still end up paying close to $4,000 a year for it, that’s $495 out of each monthly pay check. That’s around 7% of our pay. Like everybody else, Uncle Sam is already taking almost 30%.

What is most discouraging- even frightening for me personally- is that our family insurance rate is going up 33%, so that $495 a month will be edging up toward $660 a month.

I’d like to see the state take on public school teacher’s health insurance. State and County employees get a much better deal. There’s power in numbers. Any employer with less than 200 employees is going to have a hard time finding more affordable rates. It’s no wonder small school districts are constantly shopping for new insurers. Sometimes they’re like credit card companies; the first year they offer a good deal, but the next year they raise their rates 18% and then 33% the next year, and so on.

Surely the State of Iowa could handle helping its teachers with a tiny sin tax, like one more cent on gambling or alcohol or cigarettes. Most states put the majority of their proceeds from lottery ticket sales into education.

Mind you, I’m overjoyed to have what I have. While Lutheran High School paid for all but our $5 co-pays out in L.A. working with a massive HMO was a nightmare. Every time we went to the doctor we waited for hours to get in, we felt like numbers instead of people, and we rarely got to see the same doctor twice.

I also know that a lot of people, like farmers, are self-insured and pay a lot more than we teachers have to. As a matter of fact more than 40 million Americans are uninsured. Better than half of them have full time jobs. A quarter of those uninsured are under 65.

So, as a registered Democrat in Iowa, I’ve been interested in some of what House Minority Leader, Missouri Congressman Richard Gebhardt has been proposing.

Dick Gebhardt claims he can provide healthcare to all of us. He thinks that a place to start is that everyone should be covered through their jobs. If we elect him President in 2004, he plans on a tax credit for employers to expand health insurance, making coverage more affordable.

He says we can take advantage of the existing system of health insurance financing. By reforming the way things already work, instead of re-inventing the wheel, Gebhardt doesn’t see it as making things harder for either employers or employees.

In theory, this could even stimulate the economy, by creating jobs in health care and, presumably increasing worker productivity (because we’ll all be healthier.)

The Gebhardt plan would also expand access to Medicare for uninsured 55 and 64year olds and extend State Child Health Insurance Program coverage to parents of kids already covered.

Gebhardt’s plan seems a lot more grounded in reality than what we’ve heard from Teddy Kennedy or Hillary Clinton. Is it possible to provide quality health care to every American? Well, ask yourself if it’s possible to eradicate SARS, AIDS, or cancer, or to stop terrorism. Maybe, maybe not, but isn’t it important enough to try?
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