Mamma's Happy Hour

Say What?

2012-01-05T15:51:00.002-06:00

I just had to sign in to access my own blog and I totally forgot my password. That seems a bit sad and pathetic.

Well I had another baby .......... what have you been up to???

And by you, I mean the random people from various parts of the world who have accidentally found my blog over the course of the past few months who may or may not be returning from time to time.

I noticed that my last post was August 2 2011. That seems about right. That was just before I had bronchitis that lasted and lingered for over two weeks (while pregnant). And then when I was finally feeling better, I decided to take my 2 year old monkey for a walk on a most beautiful August day. I got the stroller down my front stoop just fine and stepped off the bottom step and then ............ I somehow managed to fall right over on my pregnant bum and pulled the stroller down with me as I rolled over on the grass writhing in pain. I must have stepped where the grass meets the sidewalk ... a most unleveled spot, which twisted my right ankle out from under me and caused it to swell up like a purple balloon on helium steroids.

Long story short ... it was a third degree sprain with torn ligaments that required incapacitation in a walking aircast boot for 3 weeks. There went the rest of my summer. There were no more beautiful walks outside and I couldn't drive either.

This led right into September, at which point I upgraded to an ankle stabilizer and took myself a on a trip to Israel, ALONE .... SANS CHILDREN for my niece's wedding. It was probably the first and last time I will ever fly business class (unless my mileage allows me and I am sans children again), but it was ever so sweet.

Then came the start of school and about five thousand days of Jewish holidays that began with Rosh Hashana and ended with Succos in early October.

At this point I was just too ~~fat~~ big and too tired to blog. And then I had a baby December 17 .... a little girl, so pink and frilly (must come up with bloggity name for her) and I thought that I could possibly find five minutes to blog.

Of course, time is now up as little nameless aforementioned, pink and frilly girl is making LOUD noise from little mouth. But I am happy I had a moment to say hello and I hope to find five more minutes tomorrow.

FREE FORMING FAMILY

2011-08-02T14:18:00.006-05:00

Ever hear the term "free writing"? Sometimes it is referred to as "free form writing". Pretty much it is when you just put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and one thought just randomly leads into the next. The results can have tremendous meaning but it may in no way resemble a story with a plot.

I find that when I am bored (or sick, as is the case today) I do something similar to free form writing. Except that I will coin it as "free form GOOGLING". FFG!

FFG can take you to great places. Although, I would not allow children to FFG as it will also take you to some very inappropriate, albeit, quite intriguing sites as well.

Today I was FFG blogs under the initial entrance of "Orthodox Jewish Blogs". One thing lead to the next and I eventually came across a post written by a woman named Lynne Meredith Schreiber. You can read the initial post here :

http://www.yourtango.com/200623/forbidden-desires.html

For those of you who may read my blog and are not Jewish or not an Orthodox Jew - it is an interesting post on the concept of "family purity laws" written by a woman who was not originally an "Orthodox" Jew, but came back to the fold, so to speak. To summarize - she writes about what she finds beneficial in the "family purity laws" and how it relates to those who do not subscribe to it within Judaism or those who are not Jewish altogether.

For those of you unfamiliar with "family purity laws" in the first place, you may educate yourself with her post or I implore you to FFG yourself :)

Anyway, what I found interesting actually had not much to do with her specific post, but rather, what came next.

I read comments on her post and a few commentators mentioned the fact that while she was touting her Orthodox Jewish way of life as it relates to her relationship as wife to her husband in the most complimentary way, in fact she ultimately divorced the husband she refers to.

The post I was reading today was actually written in 2006 and some comments were written almost 2 years later at which time they felt her article was a moot point since the marriage she spoke of crumbled anyway.

Now in my mind, a divorce did not take away from the positive spin she put on Orthodox Jewish intimacy between husband and wife, but it had me wondering if she was not only divorced, but if she also was no longer practicing as an Orthodox Jew.

The truth is, I still do not know what "level" of religious practice she is at within Judaism, but I did investigate further .... you know .... because of FFG and I found her and her ex husband and then .... something else.

My FFG did however result in some FFF (Free Form Facebooking) and I love when people have no privacy settings in place. (PEOPLE, WHY DO YOU STILL DO THAT? SET YOUR PRIVACY!!!!)

I first did a search on Lynne Meredith Schreiber, only the first name that came up was Lynne Meredith Golodner. I checked out some of her pictures but realized that I never saw any reference to what she looked like in the initial post. So I went back to googling her original name and retained some information.

She is from Southfield Michigan. Her first husband's name was Avy Schreiber. He was a musician. She had 3 kids with him. She mentioned their names.

So I returned to this Lynne Meredith Golodner and checked out her location - Southfield MI and her pictures - of cute children that she refers to with familiar names.

She is in fact re-married to this Golodner guy. He has a daughter from a previous marriage. They live in Southfield. I feel like I know them. I am not a stalker. I am curious.

And then I FFF Avy Schreiber. He also has no privacy settings. He lives in Oak Park MI. I do not think he is currently married. He has many pictures of the same familiar kids with the same familiar names. AND THEN>>>>>

I decided to check out the album titled "my niece's wedding in Israel".

First I saw a picture of a lovely room in a small hall or synagogue in Israel set up as I have seen weddings set up there. It looked familiar, like I had been there before. In fact, I have been to many various celebrations in Israel, including weddings and I just assumed either I had been there for something or it looks like every other hall I was at.

Then he had some pictures of his niece at various stages of the wedding. I could deduce that this was his sister's daughter getting married. He had captions under all the pictures explaining to people, I assume people who are not familiar with Orthodox Jewish weddings, exactly what was taking place.

"Bedekin - the bride sits in a chair and receives guest...."

I was not really paying attention to the guests, but his niece looked as beautiful as most brides.

"Kabalas Panim - the groom comes and covers her face with a veil....."

Shoot - groom is blocked, can't see him. Who cares, I don't know these people.

"Now the bride's father, my brother in law, is giving her a blessing atop her head....."

Yes - that happens at every wedding.

"Now the groom is walked down the aisle by both father of the groom and father of the bride."

Ok - I was now distracted as I was thinking, well many Orthodox Jews follow the custom of having their own parents, mother and father walk them down as opposed to the same gender parent per groom and bride respectively.

"Now bride is being walked in by both mothers...."

So grainy and dark. They carry the candles just like my parents do. Wow, the mother of the groom looks like my aunt.

NO SERIOUSLY!!!

I go back a picture and check out the father of the groom.

YEP - IT'S MY UNCLE!

And the groom - well that is my cousin.

And then I recheck every picture looking for more relatives. I find a sister or two. Some more cousins and
HOLY F%$# - it really is a small world.

You start with some FFG - move onto a little FFF and some guy named Avy Schreiber who was once married to Lynne Meredith who wrote a blog about renewing intimacy with her now divorced husband every month, is actually the uncle of ... well .... my cousin by marriage.

I was not at that particular wedding, but I realized why it was so familiar. My parents were there. As were my siblings and many other cousins, aunts and uncles and we call that MISHPACHA!

Yes - Avy Schreiber is practically mishpacha (family) to me. Who knew???

I wonder what else I can possibly discover via GOOGLE and FACEBOOK freeforming!!!!

I implore you all to do a little freesearching of your own. You never know what treasures you will happen upon.

Unscrewed

2011-07-22T15:22:00.001-05:00

Yes, I know I said I would come back and write but I kinda felt fluish these past couple of days. But you know what happens when you wait?

Your two year old ends up "screwing up" (no pun intended) big time and now you have something to write about.

Like most Cities across this great nation we call the United States, Chi town was suffering a heat wave of gross magnitude (because it felt gross).

In general, I am a big summer person. I need my vitamin D. I need to be outdoors. I love the sun and the water and taking walks all over my neighborhood. But the idea of that was unconscionable this past week.

My little Bam is also an outdoor baby. he takes after me and his maternal Grandfather. He also loves water and if he can not get in it outdoors, he will find a way to get in it indoors, which never turns out well.

Yesterday, poor Bam was bored out of his mind. I spent my minimal energy chasing after him most of the day. There was not enough he could do or get his hands on to make being inside enough entertainment for him.

He started with his typical - pull the kitchen chair to the sink and pour water from cup to cup and act surprisingly amazed when most of the water ends up on the counter, the chair, his clothing and the floor as opposed to actually ending up in the other cup. After a few minutes of pulling him away and cleaning up and repeating the scenario, I try distraction techniques and find him something that does in fact keep his attention for about five minutes.

Then he discovers that bottle of "disappearing ink" that his sister So won after exchanging arcade tickets for it. He climbs on a brand new case of bottled water that is conveniently located below the island ledge where the ink bottle sits and retrieves it. He manages to twist the top off and shake the contents out all over the floor and the pantry door and the cabinet doors and the walls until there are numerous puddles and splatters of blue liquid everywhere. And then Mommy finally comes out of whatever stupor she is in an notices and says, "oh my".

The one concession was that I felt slightly relieved when I discovered that it was the disappearing ink and would not leave navy blue stains everywhere. It did occur to me that So would be none to happy when she discovers the bottle is completely empty. And then after I took the lead and found a towel to begin the clean up, Bam followed my lead and retrieved his own towel and "helped" me in his own special way.

And then we attempted more distraction technique and other baby friendly toys, which lasted MAYBE another five minutes.

My ears then perked up to the sound of contents shaking, such as sand or ...........SALT!!!

And so I ran again to my kitchen floor and stepped on gritty spot after gritty spot and discovered an entire shaker has salted the floor. I went to retrieve the broom and Bam followed, looking for his little minny "escoba" as he calls it. I grabbed a dust pan, he grabbed a paper plate. I swept up the salt, he spread the salt around. We were working together, as a team. And finally weI was done cleaning and could continue with whatever it was I had been doing before. First, making sure the salt shaker was pushed farther back onto the kitchen counter.

And then, again "shake, shake, shake" rinse, repeat....

Not sure how he got that salt shaker the second time.

He hardly napped yesterday, not sure why.

He was acting very tired by 8pm (as was I) and Hun and I put him to bed, but he wasn't having it.

I would think his very BUSY day had wiped him out as it did me, but he was waging war in his crib and he won.

He came out on the condition that Hun would spend some time with him. And there they were together. In the front of the house, in Hun's study having some male bonding time while I was very busily facebooking of course. (Yes, "facebooking" is a word.)

I was just reading about a friend's current ordeal with her 5 year old son who came downstairs to disclaim "I have a penny in me" and how that would result in some shiny poop the next morning, when Hun came to me carrying the little monster.

"He stuck a screw up his nose!"

"Huh? How's that now???"

"There is currently a screw up is nose."

"Were you watching him?"

"Yes!"

"So you WATCHED him stick a screw up his nose?"

"Well .... no, I must have missed that particular moment..."

So we call my mom, she comes over and we are off to the ER.

It was EXACTLY how I planned to spend my night.

A bunch of summer accidents and heat stroke victims were clogging up the waiting room and Bam apparently thought he was there to be everyone's entertainment as he danced and sang like a well trained monkey. In fact, one lovely woman there with her own, slightly older son asked, "what's wrong with him?"

Well nothing really ..... thank G-d ..... except the sharp foreign object up his left nostril.

And then we were finally in an ER room, waiting for the Doctor and my lovely little Bam could be heard yelling,

"Dockor , Noose, I ready!!!!"

He makes me so proud!

And after the Doctor first suggested we occlude the empty nostril while I blow into Bam's mouth, (which slightly stunned my child but did not release the screw) we resorted to the nose forceps which were magic. The screw came out and Bam remarked,

"I feel better,"

as if he just passed a stool.

He was a pretty happy camper the entire time, even through the extraction of the screw, but funny enough, was ready to go and did not like having to wait for the discharge papers.

He fell asleep as soon as his tiny little head with cute, screwless nose hit the car seat.

So he is officially "unscrewed" and we can go on with our lives.

What To Do?

2011-07-19T00:15:00.003-05:00

I miss blogging!

It's 12 am. I can sleep on the idea and maybe I'll do a little bloggity blog tomorrow. Or is it TODAY?

Is anyone even remotely interested anymore?

Sigh!

I'm Really Trying To Be A Consistent Blogger , but.............

2011-03-09T10:37:00.003-06:00

I miss blogging on a consistent basis. I also realize, based on my last few posts, that the "funny" has left me. I have no idea where it has gone. It probably went wherever my readers and commentators went. I realize that I actually had more consistent blogging with a newborn than I do with a toddler. As I am currently writing he is no doubt, dumping the smallest and crumbliest food items onto my floor. He may be placing random playing cards into the slots of the floor vents. He is removing condiments from the door of the fridge and giving them new locations throughout the house. (I kid you not, my 4 year old son found a CAN of bear buried under a couch cushion the other day.) He is dumping toys out of the bins so he can use the bin to climb up onto a stove to open a cabinet to get himself a lollipop. He is very self sufficient.

You ever hear those stories where some single mother keeled over and died and ten days later the body was found with a toddler sitting idly by?

I told Hun that if he went out of town and I was left with just Bam, and I suddenly keeled over, he need not worry.

And my Bam would not even need to depend on toilet water as his source of fluids. His advanced fine motor skills have him twisting open anything from apple juice to beer as I have recently learned. He also can easily choose to eat a chunk of cheese as is or cut slices of it with the sharpest knife he can find - I have learned this as well.

He will remove his dirty diapers on his own and will mark MANY territories over the house, but then he will get a broom, dust pan, towel, hand vac and other cleaning devices and go to town on his ~~shmearing~~ cleaning expertise.

He will probably, when bored, pick up the phone and dial Guam or the Philippines or El Salvador. He likes to chat with random people. he is very friendly that way. He does better with people from Spanish speaking countries as he would like to "count" to them in that preferred language.

He will also turn the "mookik" on for himself and invite some other babies over for dancing and ...... well, beer ....... (do NOT call DCFS on me).

He must know when he is dirty and unfresh based on all the times I found him sitting in the bathtub, sans water rubbing his aromatic lavender shampoo onto his dry hair and clothing. I mean, for a smart baby he should at least know to undress before he gets in that bathtub.

He does his own laundry!

Yes he does, I kid you not.

Someone should let him know, though, that the toilet does not work as well as a washing machine.

He also ......wait ..... my garage door just opened .... my car just started up ...... where's Bam?

DAMMIT - I BETTER GO!

Parenting So...... So

2011-03-03T15:54:00.006-06:00

Sometimes kids make it so easy when it comes to finding blog material. This one is in honor of So.

So and I had a discussion one day about parenting. She decided she was not enamored with my choice of parenting. Mostly she did not like the fact that after I had asked her something five times, and received no response ...... five times, I yelled at her.

Truth is, she has a point. I hate yelling. It hurts my throat.

So then said that she would NEVER yell or get ANGRY at her kids. I informed her that this was an excellent idea. I give her my full support. And then I asked her to put that in writing and give it to me.

"Why?" she asked.

"So G-d willing when you have kids, I can laugh at you."

And wouldn't you know it, So ran off and put it in writing ...... with some additional points.

Titled: House Plans

Rules:
1) No tv, ds, dsi, ipod/touch or mp3

only wii

and computer only one hour each day...

Interesting, since I have so far not allowed any of my children to own any ipods, mp3 players or gaming devices and additionally we do NOT own a wii. However, I do allow one hour of TV a day and educational computer play and interaction from time to time so long as I am aware of what they are watching or "computing".

2) love your siblings as wanted to be loved

Very good So. Nice demand. If only we could enforce this law. I do think my kids are actually pretty nice to one another, but they have their moments - including So.

3) No physical contact

Again, would love to see her practice what she plans on preaching, but good point.

4) No insults.

See my above comments an apply to rule number 4.

I will not yell at children.
3 trips a year.
Sunday = Fun day.
Live in California.

Disneyland once a year.
Oh So - this one is so lame. If you live in California you can get a season pass for bubkis and go all the time. Don't deprive your kids.

Always be together.
This one I am already laughing about.

Soda during any occasion.
Can you tell we are not soda drinkers in my house...

4 candies a day.
1 of everyone's favorite course.
Always dessert.

So plans on giving her kids sugar before dinner - at least 4 times a day. Her kitchen will be a restaurant with each family member choosing their own dinner and she will also have time to make dessert. Quite a life for this family, it seems.

Signed for a promise,
So F.

In addition to all of her above declarations, she also constructed a weekly schedule for her kids which spells out the specific homework they will have each day. (I guess she is homeschooling.) It includes one hour of wii after homework each day as she promised. She made Tuesday, family night. She did include some mandatory reading - very forward thinking on her part. And Sunday and Saturday include family game time.

I am sooooooo saving this paper. I can not wait to laugh as I watch my first born daughter parent ~~as the children dictate~~ nowhere near her parenting predictions.

For now, I will just enjoy the thrill of parenting So :)

The Irony Of Living Life!

2011-02-22T12:34:00.007-06:00

I am pretty sure I had a few years of my life shaved off last night. That, along with the handful of new grey hairs that sprouted on my head (which is a moot point since I pulled those handfuls of hair out) are courtesy of the New Zealand earthquake.

Of course, while I am always empathetic and worrisome over random natural disasters, this one had my panties in a bunch for a few hours because my worries were specific to one person in particular.

Yes, my brother picked a fine time to take a 6 week trip to New Zealand.

He left from Israel, weeks ago, via Hong Kong to Australia. Of course he was midair when I discovered that Cyclone Yasi was headed to Australia. That, of course was a concern only remedied when my brother D. finally contacted me a day later to tell me the Cyclone was in an area, away from him that is similar to the distance between Chicago and LA. Like I know Australia's layout and geographical lines.....

He also reassured his family and friends that we should not be concerned about Cyclones, Brush fires and sharks...

He saw his kangaroos and koalas and spent a week in Australia and then headed to new Zealand.

I have been following up on his whereabouts and earth-shattering touristy events for weeks as he posts pictures to his facebook account. No different than his siblings, each picture has to have a witty caption or an unusual pose. No one in my family can be straight forward about anything.

His arm cascaded over the shoulder of a kangaroo, his "Lady and the Tramp" pose, feeding a leaf to a Koala mouth to mouth, his carefully crafted pose as he lays face down in an open field with the caption "next time I should make sure there is a parachute" after a tandem jump from a plane are all expected examples of the lack of candor in my family.

He has been traveling to all corners of New Zealand, after starting in his "base camp" of Christchurch, New Zealand.

Before he left, in addition to his email address and facebook account which I already access, I was given a phone number of a phone equipped with an international sim card. He informed us that it would be pretty expensive if we were to call him on it and unless it's an emergency, we should text.

WELL THIS WAS AN EMERGENCY!!!

So I called, AND texted, AND facebooked, AND e-mailed....

We had not heard from him for a few days and did not know what he was doing from one moment to the next.

Had he returned to Christchurch or was he under water somewhere swimming with sharks?

I guess now that I know he is okay I can laugh at the absurdity. Was he in danger under rubble via the destructive earthquake, or was he slipping off a mountain ridge somewhere, at least enjoying himself.

It turned out to be the latter.

After hours of worry. After an eternity of concern over the fact that I was the only family member with all his contact info, causing me to spend hours trying all avenues to contact him while also calling back and forth between a sister in NJ and my parents as well as the US Consulate in Aukland and Chabad (Jewish organization) in Christchurch ...... I finally received an email from him. Actually I received 2 emails from him.

His first email wanted to know why I was asking if he was ok? He wanted to know if something happened that he was unaware of? He had been on a mountain in the Southern Alps for 3 days and just returned to his hostel.

His second email clearly implied that he was now aware why I was asking?
"oh... the earthquake? I did not even know about it. I was 8 hours away. But I am supposed to fly out of Christchurch on Friday..."

Great!

And of course, after my nerves were shot and the only way I could fix them was with some carefully spiked ice cream, we could begin to laugh (sort of), I do not want to forget those who were in fact in Christchurch.

He let us know of the irony ... Just as I suspected, the only other scenario included my brother, 1400 m up a mountain trying to pass a narrow ridge while 90 mile per hour winds and rain pelted him from both sides.

So we were worried he was buried beneath rubble or G-d forbid crushed under destruction and instead he was trying not to get blown off a narrow mountain ridge.

While I am grateful that he is well, and have requested of him that he spend the rest of his trip visiting museums and zoos (as if....) I still do have the citizens of Christchurch in my thoughts and prayers. I am saddened that there are those who did lose their lives in just a matter of minutes and those who are now wandering, aimlessly, dazed - I hope that they have the strength to get through this tragedy.

I hope my brother stays safe and returns to his home well, but I am happy that he is truly an example of someone who knows how to LIVE LIFE.

Because the irony is, just miles from where he is, in a place where he just was and intends to return to later this week, there are those who no longer can LIVE theirs.

To Never Have Had, To Always Have

2011-01-18T13:37:00.010-06:00

I went to LA for a week and I did NOT get fondled by TSA so I am grateful for that. I am also appreciative of the fact that my kids were not molested by complete strangers. I was able to get my yogurts past security without much of a fight but I did have to mourn the loss of a full jar of peanut butter.

But I will revisit my recent trip to LA in a later post.

In the meantime.....

I have been internalizing and evaluating my place in my family and my very existence.

We all have a "placement" within our family and I truly believe that our family placement contributes to the essence of who we are to become as people.

Most notably, there are three easily described placements known as -

Oldest
Middle
Youngest.

But, of course, not every family exists of three family members. And possibly, the difference in gender would effect the essence of who you are as well.

Is it
Girl, Girl, Girl?
Girl, Girl, Boy?
Girl, Boy, Boy?
Boy, Boy, Boy?

You get the point....

And additionally, the years that separate each child would also have a profound affect.

None of this really matters, because no one can possibly know if they would have been "nurtured" into a different person if any of the above variables were different then they actually were. We only know the people we actually ARE and the contributions to our nurturing that were directly related to the above variables.

But I tend to overthink these things and wonder how much of me is directly related to my family placement and what of me would be altered if my placement - therefore my environment were substantially different.

Many people who have become friends in only recent years tend to "assume" that I only have one brother. This assumption may be related to the fact that only one brother and I currently reside in Chicago, our birthplace, also where our parents reside.

Some people in my life are aware that I have at least a couple more siblings, but most are clueless to the fact that I am one of seven ..... actually ..... eight.

Since only seven of us are living in this world, I will refer to that number at this time.

I am in reality, number six of seven.

But in my EARLY life of actual day to day living and breathing, I could easier relate to being a middle child of three and an only girl.

I mostly grew up with a brother, four years younger, and another brother, four years older. My next sibling on the ladder was ten years older than me. By the time I was seven, she was living in Israel and would pretty much, never return. She went for a year post highschool and never looked back, as she met and married her husband in Israel (actually the wedding was in Chicago) and made Israel her home ever since.

So the three siblings of mine who are older than her, were attending College and working in other cities as well and my feelings of "siblingship" were mostly in theory.

In fact, when I was born, my eldest brother, who is not the oldest in the family was already 15 and was studying in a highschool in Philadelphia and post highschool in Lakewood NJ. He would return home from time to time for holidays. I do remember liking "that guy" who would take me on errands and throw me up in the air a few times here and there. But I also distinctly remember that it took years for me to actually realize he was a "brother" as far as that word is legally defined. I guess parents take for granted that the kid who is 15 years younger actually needs it spelled out for her or else he may be considered no different than the friendly UPS guy who shows up from time to time.

So I was sandwiched in between two stinky, tormenting brothers who could do no wrong in my Mommy's eyes because we all know how little boys charm their Mommy's, and I would imagine having a sister.

Yes, I realized I had three sisters, but I wanted one that was close to my age. I wanted that sisterly camaraderie that I saw from time to time between my older sisters. I wanted someone to have "girlie" talk with. I was sick and tired of sneaking into my brothers' rooms to check out their stuff only to find NOTHING that could possibly peak my interest (or so I thought at the time. I mean, how many girls love Mad magazine and become sports fanatics.) I really needed a sister.

Most girls in my class did not live directly in my neighborhood, but I was quite friendly with 3 girls who were all 2 years older than me, who lived near me and attended the same Synagogue as me. We would play on the Sabbath - Chinese jump rope and some other stupid games and I always felt like some strange void was being filled.

I always imagined that one of these girls could easily be my sister. I imagined attending school and seeing my sister, only 2 years older me, walking through the halls. I would say hi to her and wondered if she would say hi back, or ignore me and pretend she has no idea who this annoying younger girl is. I wouldn't want her to be "uncool" in front of her friends...

This is when I supply a link to a post that you must read so I do not have to repeat myself. This link is important to the rest of this current post.

"FUN" Facts About Orah

If you have indeed read the above post, you now know that I was nine when I found out, accidentally, that I had another sister. This was the missing link. I guess parents also take for granted that those who came after said sister would automatically know that said sister ever existed. She never truly had a chance to be the older sister I was always imagining, but I still knew, that something in me was always attached to her. There was always a connection, and I just did not know it.

I minored in Psychology when in Nursing school and worked in the areas of "Labor and Delivery", "Mother/Baby" and "Neonatal Intensive Care". Anyone who has ever worked in those areas of Nursing or Medicine, will tell you that the affect of the mother, any negative situations that Mom is currently experiencing, and post-partum depression, and just a psychologically unhealthy state of mind can and most probably will directly affect the bond between Mom and baby. And those who work in this area of medicine will also tell you that the moments and few hours and few days following birth are THE MOST pivotal in terms of the bond created , that will affect Mom/Child relationship way into the future.

I will also go so far as to say, that the psychological state of mom while pregnant and while nursing, will pass to the child.

I would also say, that while a specific tone for the mother/child relationship can easily be set under these circumstances, it does not mean that it is written in stone that an entire lifetime of Mom/child relationship will be tainted. One can analyze the source of a challenging relationship and rectify it.

After that whole aforementioned diatribe, I will just say, that it was only after learning of my sister's existence that I had a better understanding of my own mother, and our specific relationship.

I will never know if my Mother was a different person with my four oldest siblings, than she was years later after birthing, and losing a child. But I imagine that experience changes a person. My mother does not express her emotions on the surface. She is not a mushy, demonstrative mother, and she freely admits this. When she told me about Ruchama, it was very "matter of fact". She was only relaying info. But I wanted to ask her, how it made her FEEL? I never did. I still sometimes think I should ask her that specific question. But while my mother will probably give me some sort of cerebral answer, I do not think she will ever really answer that question on an emotional level. I do not even think she can completely understand what it is I am asking FROM her, when I would word the question that exact way. Maybe she protects herself that way ..... if she doesn't have to "FEEL" it.

But I feel it. I don't know why. I have no memory of my sister. But I always felt something. Maybe it was the fact that my mother carried me in utero while Ruchama was alive, sick, being cared for by someone else. Maybe I picked up on something at birth, when my mother looked me over, found my deformed finger nail and felt that bittersweet moment of "blessings" from G-d while another child was still suffering with illness. Maybe I grabbed hold of emotions when my mother hugged me close after she was informed of one child's passing, while another was crawling happily across the floor.

I have always thought about this sister. I thought of her before I even knew she had existed and I think of her ever since.

My mother was at my house this past weekend, for lunch. She was sitting on my couch and picked up a copy of "People" magazine. My mother always jokes with me that she will know I have matured when I stop reading that magazine. I always remind her that there are many women my age and older that apparently need to "mature".

She picked up the magazine and said, "see I have to come to your house to read, empty, vacuous, things...."

HA HA MOM!

John Travolta and Kelly Preston were on the cover introducing their newborn son, Benjamin.

My mom said, "see Kelly Preston had a baby at the age of 48 ... so you can keep going."

HA HA MOM!

So I said, "but I think that baby is just a "replacement" baby. (Travoltas lost a son a year ago or so....)

My mom got upset and said, "No - just because she had another baby, does not make him a replacement baby..."

She seemed annoyed by my statement.

I then told her I just read about another couple from Australia (not read in People, because I do read things that are NOT vacuous). Apparently they aborted healthy twin boys because she specifically wants a baby girl after recently losing her daughter. In Australia, it is illegal to do "gender selection" in In Vitro, unless a gender specific disease runs in your family. So this couple has to just get pregnant and take their chances on the gender. I don't want to judge a woman who lost a child and her psychological state, but the idea of aborting healthy babies just because they were the wrong gender, does sicken me.

In any case, my mother went on to say that although she is unaware of this Australia story, not every person who has a baby after a loss or a "sick" child is "replacing" the child....

And then I said it .....

"But, Ma, I do remember you saying once, that after Ruchama .... you "needed to know you could have another healthy child..."

My mother than said, "I never said {Needed} ... I may have wanted more healthy child...."

I did not want to belabor the point, but I was 99.9% certain I remembered her wording, because it always bothered me. Semantics - maybe she never meant to say "needed", but part of me always felt like she needed the "solace" of a healthy child. Although I do believe a healthy boy would have been just as fine.

I vaguely remember that she once said her arms ached, an empty ache ... when she had no baby to hold after Ruchama was not present in her vicinity. I think I understand that feeling of NEEDING to hold a baby in your arms. I think most women who have had, or have a strong desire to have a baby, know that feeling of arms waning because they need to be filled with baby.

I do not know if I can ever have a long drawn out discussion about all the feelings she had and what affect it had on our relationship or who I am today, with my Mother, but I myself will never stop thinking about it.

Waaay before I was married, I always knew that if I had a girl, she would somehow be named after my sister. My oldest, So was not the one meant to be named after her. So was literally created when Hun lost his Grandmother and I just knew if that conception was a girl, she would need to be named after Hun's Grandmother. And so she was.

But then my second baby was a girl. It was like the sister I always wanted for me, but for So. They were less than 2 years apart and I knew she was my Ruchama. That name (meaning mercy) was significant for many reasons, some I won't get into now. But even though I would use that name, when a young child dies we tend to add a name instead of just using their name alone. So Ro (short for her nickname) has three names. One is placed before Ruchama and one is placed after. When all her HEBREW names are loosely translated .... it creates a significant sentence ... "G-d answered us with Mercy and Life ".

Besides for her 3 Hebrew names, I gave her a nickname for "Ruchama" that is the name I actually call her by. We always joke that with all her names she would have an identity crisis. But the nickname is important to me, because "Ro" (not the full nickname) is how I can keep Ruchama in my memories all the time, without painfully calling out her actual name on a regular basis.

I did not inform my Mother ahead of time what I would be naming her. I was worried if I should ask my Mother's permission, if it would be painful for her, if she would be upset with the fact that I used that name, or if she would in fact appreciate it. So I took my chances. She was pleased and told me that all those names together were a beautiful sentence. I literally breathed a sigh of relief.

In a week I will run a half marathon (again) for an organization that provides services to families that are facing life with a sick child. Some of these families are similar to the one my Mother was Matriarch to in 1973, but the services were not available to her at the time. She had to make very serious decisions for her Ruchama and for her other children without the support of organizations like "Chai Lifeline".

I am running in the memory of my sister Ruchama.

In November, something happened that made me feel this run was actually being orchestrated and condoned by Ruchama herself.

I used to go to Ruchama's grave, practically every year on the anniversary of her death. I went with my parents. I know I went with them a couple of times while I was married as well, which means that I was only reminded to go when they made me aware since I was no longer living in their home. The past few years, the anniversary of her death would pass and I would think about it only in February ... that I did not go to her grave. I realized I kept mixing up her date of death in November with her birthdate in February and by the time I would think about it in February, I missed another visit. I guess my parents just stopped calling me to ask if I wanted to come, and I would forget. So for years I did not go.

This past November, my phone rang just the Sunday after Thanksgiving. My brother D. was calling me all the way from Israel. He specifically called me because he had just gotten off the phone with my parents, and my dad had mentioned, totally in passing, that they were about to go to Ruchama's grave.

D said, "I'm not sure if you care or not, but I know how Ma and Dad just take for granted that anybody would want to know .... but dad just said, they are going to the cemetery, so I don't know if you want to go or not ... maybe you can still catch them."

Years had passed that I would miss the opportunity and of all years that it should come to my attention .... this was important.

I quickly called my parents and they had not left yet .... so I went with them.

I stood at her tiny headstone, and I said some psalms as the wind blew and sleet fell. My mother and father stood beside me doing the same. When they were done, they went off to look for stones. We have a custom to place a stone on top of the grave. I'm not completely sure, but I believe it has something to do with the roundness resembling the "circle" of life, and that life goes on and on... My mother made a comment about how there were just not as many stones to be found as there used to be and she returned with tiny pieces, more typical of pebbles. She handed me one and placed hers on the grave and then she and my father were walking off and pointing out graves of past friends and other members of the community. I said a few more prayers .... some more personal and then looked over to the right and my eye quickly caught something. It was a perfectly round ROCK! It was really the only one around. And I picked it up and placed it on her headstone.

I had not been there in years and knew I was only there this year because of channels that crossed an Ocean and phone wires from Chicago to Israel back to Chicago. It was purely by chance ... or was it?

I know that Ruchama's short existence had quite an impact on the person I am today. However which way I was affected by her presence in this world and in another, for good and not so good, I know that my placement in the family just after her was meant to be. There are no accidents. And I will always have her with me. The sister I never had. The sister I will always have.

Growing Up Confident

2010-12-22T15:08:00.003-06:00

When I was living it up in my single days, I once dated a guy that I was set up with at a wedding.

When I say "set up" with at a wedding, I mean -

I was attending a friend's wedding in another city, he saw me, liked what he saw and found a mediator who introduced us and then we took a walk around the hotel the wedding took place at.

So - I was LITERALLY set up at a wedding.

In any case, we only had so much time to spend together at the wedding and then I was off to Chicago.

He was actually not from that other city either, but was from somewhere in another Country.

After I arrived back to Chicago he called me and continued to call me on and off for a couple of weeks. At this point he decided he would come to Chicago for Labor Day Weekend.

THE WHOLE WEEKEND.

INCLUDING MONDAY!

And because he did not know a soul in Chicago, he was intending to spend all that time with me.

First, I remind some of my readers that from Friday sundown until Saturday sundown, we keep the Sabbath.

We don't do much but attend Synagogue and eat large quantities of food in 2-3 meals.

We do not drive or use any electric equipment.

Therefore, dating over a weekend means there is a 24 hour period of remaining local, in your home or any other home you can get to via walking and pretty much one is allowed to read or have conversation with friends and family.

So you can imagine that dating over a Sabbath could be intense. That would be fine if I was spending that time with a man I have already been dating for a while, but this was to be our first dating experience. I did not really know the guy yet in social situations.

I had to find a place for him to stay (within walking distance) over the Sabbath, as it would be inappropriate for him to sleep at my house.

I had him stay at a home of another friend who had attended the same wedding, so at least he could stay somewhere with someone he had met who was similar in age. Although he would be eating both Friday night and Saturday lunch meals at my home.

He was a good looking, clean cut, articulate man and I will give him a fake name just to make this post easier.

Let's call him Joe.

Joe was extremely polite, intelligent, self-confident, learned (in Torah and secular topics) and displayed his knowledge and all these other attributes when in my home and in the presence of my parents.

My parents, in turn, were very impressed by him, especially since Joe threw himself into a situation that is not typical for a "first time" dating experience, and did not let it phase him.

I myself saw all these qualities in him, however, I must have had some reservations about Joe because I did not want to spend the entire Saturday just sitting across from him and gazing in his eyes.

This was Labor day weekend - so it was still summertime. Which means the sun did not set until late at night. Which meant, there was nothing for us to do together, BUT, gaze in each others eyes as we spoke about this, that, and the other thing.

So after lunch I told Joe I could really use a nap and after a few hours I would walk to my friends house and we could hang out there.

He reluctantly agreed.

I did this for two reasons.

One, I previously mentioned and two - so I could spend time with him away from my parents and in addition, in the company of friends and peers.

I wanted to see him in a completely different social environment, and I am smart that way.

And so after a few hours of rest, I walked to my friend about 8 blocks away as I said I would.

And it was only a matter of minutes that I noticed his sarcasm. Sarcasm typically does not bother me as I am very sarcastic myself. However, his sarcasm came at the expense of my friends in their home. These were people he hardly knew. And even after my friend shared that he did not appreciate his humor, Joe continued to let his sarcasm slip into criticism and downright insults.

At some point I gently let him know that his sense of humor was not appreciated by EVERYONE and he started to revert back to the Joe who was at my home mere hours earlier.

We still spent time together Sat night. And almost all Sunday we continued dating. And then came Monday ....

Most moments were okay, even some that were great, but there was that little voice nagging me that told me something was not quite right.

Either way, I felt it was okay enough to keep dating but it wasn't like I had to decide to marry the guy just yet. OR SO I THOUGHT!!!

Monday night Joe was planning on returning to his Country of origin, but at 3 pm we were sitting on the steps of the Museum of Science and Industry, having a snack, when he decided to be pretty forthright.

Joe: So you ready to come to {his Country} and meet my parents?

Me: Is that your way of asking me to come to {his Country} to continue dating you?

Joe: No, meeting parents usually indicates that an engagement is taking place.

Me: (foncused) Engagement?

Joe: Well I know what I WANT when I see IT and I figure that we should just make it official.

Me: (in my mind) WTF???? (Out Loud) Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........

Did he just say what I think he said?

He just referred to me as an "IT", an object he "WANTS" like he just went to the Museum souvenir shop and said, "I want that." as he points to a Model of a submarine.

One intense weekend makes this guy think I am ready to don a white dress and meet him at the end of a long, very very long aisle.

And in addition, do you call that a proposal???

Well, I pretty much told him that I was not ready to meet his parents and he was moving just a bit too quick there, Mr. Speedy Gonzalez.

I don't remember exactly how we left it, but it was something along the lines of, you can still call me and we can continue this and see where it leads, but I won't make decisions about a future with you just yet.

I came home and shared my initial conflict and reservations with my parents about Joe, but they were dumbstruck.

All they saw over the weekend was enough for them to call him "son" and they encouraged me not to close the door completely just yet.

I do not remember the exact proximity of Labor Day to Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Years - typically falls out sometime in September or October), that specific year, but we continued to converse by phone all that time.

However, his phone calls to me were getting very frequent and he was very interested in why I was not always available to take his call, etc... etc...

Because of Nursing School and the upcoming holidays, I could not yet take a trip to his home. I occasionally conversed with my parents about how intense I felt he was and how I thought I should just end the relationship, but my parents had been way too impressed by him and did not want me to close the door altogether, but just ask that he slows down, maybe does not call so often...

I had already explained to Joe that he was a bit intense and he had enough charming qualities that he needn't be, and that he should slow down somewhat. At first he agreed to my request, but then the phone calls picked up again. And he wanted to know what I was up to every moment of every day.

Finally, just before Rosh Hashana was to begin, Joe called me to wish me "Happy Holidays" and we spoke for a few moments and I think he would have spoken longer, but I had to get off the phone and prepare for a holiday that is similar to a Sabbath. I had to get things done that we are not allowed to do once the holiday begins - like shower and dry hair, iron clothing ....

No more than 5 minutes after hanging up the phone, Joe called again.

I'm not sure if it was the fact that the "New Year" was about to begin, a time when we reflect on life and pray for good things (such as marriage) to come, that he picked this specific moment, but he pretty much gave me an ultimatum.

He said he does not know how to be slow and he does not feel the need to drag out something he is certain about...

HE IS CERTAIN ABOUT....

And then it hit me, what has been bothering me all along.

He doesn't truly care about what I think. He does not care if I am certain or not. He does not care about the feelings of my friends. He wants what he wants when he wants it. Yes, he packaged up his controlling nature in a pretty little package of charm, good looks, intelligence, impressing parents... but I saw through him.

And so I said, well then, I guess we are done.

Great way to start a new year.

I was actually relieved. He was stupid enough to give me an ultimatum. I am not sure if his narcissism is what made him think I would cowardly fall for his ultimatum, but I was smarter than that. Aren't those controlling types supposed to go after the weak and vulnerable girls. I guess he picked the wrong chick.

My parents never got over the fact that I did in fact CLOSE THE DOOR, because they never got the chance to see what I saw.

In fact, even after I met and became engaged to Hun, my mom would still throw out how disappointed she was that I let that one go. I think she has even mentioned it since I have been married. And it's not like she is not impressed with my husband. I'm pretty sure she loves Hun more than me and is often wondering why HE decided to marry ME. But she fell for the charade that Joe put on.

Why do I bring any of this up today???

Well, because it has come to my attention that Joe is divorced. He was controlling and possibly abusive to his wife. And I use the word "divorced" lightly, because his wife is still waiting for the "Get" (something a Jewish man must give his wife in order for the marriage to actually be considered dissolved. Without it, she can NOT re-marry). Just his way of remaining controlling of her, I guess. My heart goes out to her.

But I am very proud of the Orah I have become. After high school we girls go to learn for a year in Seminary in Israel. I had a rough year there (which you can read about if you find my post called "the non year long year in Israel" - which I am too lazy to link). Let's just say, that there is a pre-Israel Orah and a post-Israel Orah. The pre-Israel Orah may have succumbed to my parents encouragement and constant oversight of my own feelings and my own thoughts and opinions on any topic of interest to my life. But the post-Israel Orah has learned to follow her own gut and make piece with her decisions.

I don't even have regrets, when in retrospect, I may have made the WRONG decision. But in this particular case, I am grateful I have grown confident in myself.

Thanks For Nothing

2010-12-21T11:05:00.002-06:00

SO

APPARENTLY I FOUND

MY

OWN

PROJECT!

Shall I keep it?

Anyone Have A Project For Me?

2010-12-07T12:32:00.003-06:00

Since the end of August I had been rehearsing for a play. Last week we completed all four of our performances.

I am currently training for another half marathon. This one includes requesting contributions for an organization that provides services to unwell children and their families.

Two nights ago, 3 ladies and I went sledding at 10 pm at night sans CHILDREN. We were probably wearing a collective, 80 layers of clothing amongst us as it was single digit temperatures.

I have been contemplating the idea of hiking the Grand Canyon - 10 mile hike, to one of the most beautiful waterfalls on the face of the earth.

I am preparing for a trip to LA in the beginning of January that requires searching for clothing that looks as if it costs a few hundred (or thousands) when in reality it was purchased for nada. That is what happens when you go to a VERY wealthy relative's wedding. (Trust me, this takes much effort on my part).

I am working on my memoirs........

Okay - I totally made that last one up.

What is wrong with me? Have I become a "Desperate Housewife"?

As soon as I complete a project, I am searching for another.

I need a nap.

How To Turn The Tables On A TSA Pat Down

2010-11-15T15:27:00.012-06:00

Well I obviously don't want to leave you all with that last post for too long because it's just way to indicative of the poor, pathetic Orah.

And I am not sure how it was received because, frankly, not one of you who read it left a comment.

So, moving on.....

How about our very "FRIENDLY" TSA agents???

I was starting to worry that we were becoming a populace too unfriendly and hands off.

I'm so happy to see we are opening up to the idea of becoming touchy/feely all over again.

And it's great to see that terrorism has not taken from us the one thing they were trying to ...

duh,

OUR FREEDOM.

Because at least, the TSA agents feel very free to touch our "junk" and fondle our "ta-tas".

The fact that I can now always feel FREE to say, while traveling by air,
"Excuse me, but would you mind, while you're up there, scratching my left ovary, kinda itching..."

is so ~~something I never expected to say~~ awesome.

I feel liberated.....

and FREE.

If you don't know what I am talking about (oh yeah, I have been watching/reading SOME news again - but only the kind that amuses me) the very INTIMATE pat down procedure via TSA has become extremely apparent as both flight crew and passengers are making a point of being vocal about it.

In the meantime, my heart palpitations and anxiety have begun as I am due to travel in early January as well as at the end of January via air.

Not everyone has to expose themselves to the extremely affectionate pat downs.

Nope - those pat downs are only for the people who "opt-out" of EXPOSING their "junk" and "ta-tas" in all its purely formed glory to the TSA agents holed up with readily available imaging in some room down the hall by refusing to stand in one of the ~~strip search machines~~ body scanning machines.

I already know I am going to be an "opt-out".

1. I don't trust the TSA when they say "no images will be recorded" (it actually has already happened)

2. I don't trust the TSA when they say "it's minimal x-ray and not hazardous to health"
(bullshit)

3. I DON'T TRUST THE TSA!!!

I am sure I will not find a too close for comfort, pat down to be a necessary replacement for the "booty baring machine", nor will I find it comfortable. But I figure I could make it more uncomfortable for the TSA agent (same gender) if I begin to groan pleasantly in a "very familiar" way.

I may add to that with a little
"ooh - right there ... that's it...."

Or I may throw out a line like,
You may want to wash your hand now and get some shots, there are not ENOUGH gloves for your hand to keep you from getting what I got...."

just to shake things up a bit.

If the aforementioned ideas of mine make you uncomfortable just reading it, imagine how the TSA agent will feel.

I mean, why should I be the only one who is going to feel uncomfortable.

But what really began to scare me was the idea that they could pat down my child. This makes my stomach turn.

We lock up any random adult for touching a child even more minimally than TSA would, so how could we allow such grossly intimate pat downs of a child.

They have been doing pat downs of children thus far.

TSA Screener Accosts 3 Year Old Child at Security Checkpoint

Oh - don't bother clicking on that. Youtube had to remove the video because some "Tribune" copyrighted it.

But I saw the footage today and this child was screaming, "don't touch me, don't touch me, I don't want them touching me..." and her mother just stood there helpless.

This child can be traumatized for life just as any child who undergoes uninvited "touch" typically becomes.

TSA administrator, John Pistole was interviewed on the Today Show defending TSA's screening practices and touting their "sensitivity" to passengers during pat downs.

He also said that TSA will no longer be doing pat downs on children under 12.

A) Where the hell did he get the number 12 from. Did someone pull it out his ass during his recent cavity search? My understanding is that anyone under the age of 18 is a minor in any other wretched circumstance. If someone molests anyone under the age of 18 it is considered "an offense against a MINOR" Oh - and the best time to decide to start pat downs on non-adults, is probably just around the time they are going through puberty. Because that is when they are MOST secure about their bodies and they want to share it's development with strange TSA agents.

B) As I already mentioned, I DO NOT TRUST TSA!!! Just because it is on record that TSA administrator, John Pistole said pat downs are NOT done on children under 12, does not mean that when I am most vulnerable, standing at that checkpoint at TSA's every whim, they will not demand of me that my children 8 and under undergo pat downs. Because I have little faith in TSA, I have been looking for the "rules" to print out. If you go to the official Government TSA site, you will not find written ANYWHERE, the age at which children can and can not undergo pat downs. So in the meantime, I am printing out EVERY article related to John Pistole's quote "children under 12 will not be pat down". Because I can not bear to watch my children being fondled by strange adults.

I hope to G-d that come January the TSA will learn that no matter how they try to thwart terrorism, the terrorists will be one step ahead of us.

Because neither the VIRTUAL strip search machines, nor the pat downs can reveal any weapons hidden in .... ahem, ahem .... cavities (not the teeth kind), it's only a matter of time that a terrorist loads his "whooha" with ammunition, and incendiary devices and then ....

security check at the airport will get a whole lot more fun ....

"Ladies to the left, men to the right, step through the machine please, drop trou and bendover..."

Pretty much we are all getting F*$#@& anyway - so may as well.

Ladies and Gentlemen -

Welcome to the "OVERLY FRIENDLY skies"!!!

What Tears Do To A Computer

2010-11-13T21:19:00.005-06:00

Ok. I'm gonna write one. But you probably won't like it and won't ever come back to visit. It's not going to be a fun one.

Why have I not been writing???

I've been depressed.

Before you get yourselves all worried over me (because I'm sure you all spend every waking moment thinking of only ME...) I will have you know that I am NOT clinically depressed.

I'm not on any medication or seeking any therapy. I'm fully aware of when I go through a funk. My creativity gets swallowed up by clouds of endless emotion. This is what happens when you are a person with an overwhelming sensitive soul.

In addition to my sensitive soul, I make matters worse by being a person so complacent over worldly events. Once I hear a bit of bad news, whether it's generic to the world's population or hits extremely close to home, it eats away at me and eats away at me and eats away at me until I am like a wet noodle - STUCK to whatever is thrown my way.

I have been trying to curb my usual addiction to news and media, via periodicals, TV or Internet, so believe it or not, I have been "logged on" a bit less lately.

But I apparently have to surrender, much to my reproach, to the news that comes my way via my own community.

Too many people sick and dying.

What else is new?

What's so different this time?

It's hitting close to home.

My parents are losing friends which has me facing certain realities that I am not ready, and frankly, too afraid to face.

My husband has an extremely sick aunt. She is currently in a "good" place. It's "good" because instead of dying with cancer, she is currently living with cancer.

GOOD!

HA!

My mother-in-law (G-d bless her, and I love her immensely) has practically given her life to taking care of said, sick aunt, (who lives in another state)while continuously caring for a handicapped child who is 23 and totally capable of learning independence, when she should be spending these formative years traveling with her husband, visiting grandchildren in other states and countries, and frankly, anyway that suits her dreams and interests.

This aunt, by the way, is only in her early 40's and had her seventh child just a few months before my Bam was born. But her own parents live in her neighborhood. And so my MIL claims she is really there for her brother (the cancer stricken aunt's husband). My MIL returned home last week supposedly for good. But then ran back out there because her handicapped son who is supposedly learning independence, came down with the flu. Who is going to take care of my brother-in-law when my MIL no longer can?

Don't think I have not been thinking about the answer to that question. That is all I have been thinking about amongst other equally worthwhile hypothetical situations that (hopefully no time soon) will one day become quite apparent in my family circle.

In the meantime, it certainly doesn't help that my own husband has a recent diagnosis of "something" that is exacerbated by stress, and flare ups can be thwarted by exercise.

Uh, allow me to introduce you to my workaholic of a husband.... Stress is what happens when you are spread so thin because you are really working the job of six people. The irony is, if he had those six people, that is when he would actually have time to STOP and hire six people. And if he had the time to SLEEP, he might actually have the time to exercise.

So the fact that the Doctor told us that my husband is at higher risk for a certain cancer because of his recent diagnosis, that doesn't at all throw another wrench into my already existing state of bliss and calm.

All I can do is

BREATHE

RUN

PRAY

CRY

And the damn tears keep shorting out my computer.

So who could blog without a computer?

Hiring Out!

2010-10-05T12:00:00.004-05:00

Anyone want a really cute 16 month old to come over and reorganize their pantry???

I have someone for you.

You can pay him in etzels, ackus, or oockies.

But don't forget to read the fine print.

We who employ said 16 month old child are cleared of all responsibilities related to incomplete jobs and food items scattered around your house, etc ... etc ... etc...

Please contact us through the comment section.

Because I Need To Blog SOMETHING

2010-09-29T09:54:00.008-05:00

I had a bizarre dream last night...

Oprah Winfrey had an audience full of women suffering infertility and at the end of an hour long tear jerkier of a show she had a surprise...

"LOOK UNDER YOUR SEATS .... YOU GET A BABY ...... AND YOU GET A BABY ..... AND YOU GET A BABY....

EVERYONE GETS TO TAKE HOME A BAAAAAAAAAYBEEEEEEEEE"

I woke up in a cold sweat. I can't believe Oprah is giving away babies.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ro is quite shrewd. She somehow managed to come home from school with money that she did not have when she left to school.

She was showing off her conquest to So in the evening and placed her dollars and coins on the kitchen table.

Ro turned away for a few moments and when she looked back she was uncertain if her collection of money was still the same value it was moments ago.

Ro - "So, did you take a dollar from me?"

So - "No."

Ro - "Are you sure?"

So - "Yes!"

Ro - (with a conniving look on her face)
"Do you want to give me a dollar anyway ....... just in case?"

Kids HEAR & REPEAT The Darndest Things

2010-09-13T18:31:00.007-05:00

I am not kidding when I tell you that the following conversation took place as I was putting So and Ro to bed.

Me - Goodnight.

So - Mommy, I really don't find this pillow comfortable because when I put my head on it my head sinks all the way down like it's just laying on the bed and like there is no pillow at all.

Me - That is why you have another pillow with a sham on your bed. Put the sham covered pillow underneath and then it won't feel so flat.

So - Or Mommy, you could buy that special pillow that never gets flat and has a special space in the middle for your head and it remembers your shape.

Me - (dumbfounded) So, those pillows are very expensive.

So - No they aren't, just 19.99.

And for the special limited time, TV offer it's 17.99

And if you call and order in the next 10 minutes they will throw in another pillow free

That's a 40 dollar value for just 17.99 Mommy.

Me - with this look on my face -

SERIOUSLY!!!!

When did PBS and Sprout become more like the QVC and Home Shopping Network??

I mean, they still are ONLY watching PBS and Sprout ....

RIGHT?

Happy New Year - Jewish Style

2010-09-08T16:27:00.004-05:00

I have not been back to blog. I am mostly still waiting for Ate to go back to school which happens Monday. But I have also been sick for 3 weeks and I wasn't getting better.

I started having pain on the left side of my face and figured it's probably a sinus infection.

I just started me some anti bi otics...

And I will spare you what is now, FINALLY, draining from my sinus passages.

At least I can nix that Dentist appointment (which would have been my next try due to the tooth pain, which was really sinus pain).

Green is sooooo NOT my favorite color.

Tonight is Rosh Hashana - the Jewish New Year.

Time to pray and reflect....

as much as I can in between nose blowing and tissue reaching and

ATE!!!!

Monday .... just around the corner, just around the corner, just around the....

Sorry, tissue reaching and nose blowing...

Happy New Year to my Jewish friends and Sweet Wednesday to all my other friends.

HORN TOOTIN'

2010-08-31T10:43:00.014-05:00

▲
l
l
l
l
l
l
l

ME

I'm getting there ..... I'm getting there!!!

Girls off to school today. (Ate has a few more days)

We are tooting our horns ...

2010-08-24T10:57:00.002-05:00

I ... WANT ... TO ..... BLOG ....

NEED .... TO .... BLOG ...

CREATIVE ENERGY .... IS .... SUFFOCATING .... ME...

CHILDREN WITHOUT ..... STRUCTURED .... ENVIRONMENT ..... SUFFOCATING ..... ME!!!!

MUST .... FIND ... TIME...

I .... NEEDED ... THIS .... QUICK .... FIX....

WILL .... BE .... BACK ..... SOON!!!

It Can Change On A Dime

2010-07-15T09:35:00.015-05:00

This is not the way I expected to return to my blog, but my blog is a place to RELEASE my feelings and that is what I need to do.

I was having a really great summer. I was focusing on the joy of being a mother. I have been spending time outdoors with children, with children and spouse, with spouse, alone, becoming one with nature, with my thoughts, reflecting.

I did not really spend last summer so invested in "moments", as I was busy taking care of a newborn. And when taking care of a newborn, one loses track of time. Each day seemed to end and begin at the same moment and time became blurred. There was only sleep to dream and rejuvenate. Any time to reflect was absent. Even as a good friend lost a beautiful young child, suddenly, I could only reflect until my own newborns cries would pull me away from my thoughts.

This summer I have four children who are more predictable and I am able to "schedule" moments to spend. And it has been joyful.

And then suddenly and unexpectedly -

THIS -

There is no explanation, and certainly none that would suffice.

Moshe Menora was a contributing member, not only of our community, but of society as a whole.

I did not know him extremely well, but my parents knew him better. He, along with his wife have three children.

Miriam and Kelly were in school with two of my sisters and my family knows the son Shalom as well.

Kelly lives in a neighborhood in Israel where my sister who attended school with her lives and they share in each others celebrations and events.

I had been to Israel last summer and two summers before that, each time my sister made a Bar Mitzvah and their family was in attendance. I would see their family whenever I was in Israel, including their beautiful daughter Sara. She was on the plane as well.

Also on the plane were 3 of her cousins. Rikki and Racheli did not survive. Yossi (Netanel Yosef ben Simcha Sima) needs our prayers as he fights to recover from burns over 50% of his body.

The truth is, one does not need to know this family on ANY level in order to feel the impact of this most tragic event. I have heard stories of the like, unfortunately, all over the news and immediately, the coldness envelopes your body and you can only ask, "why"?

But this specific story obviously hit my own community with an intense breeze of eeriness.

Even I did not feel the "eye" of the storm until I realized, when attending the funeral, that I was attending a funeral for four family members at one time.

Who does that?

Who finds themselves at a funeral for four people at one time?

It's so far beyond what is supposed to be NATURAL to this world.

The human being was not built with the equipment to comprehend this sort of travesty.

We can try all we want, but we can not wrap our little human brains around it.

There are people involved who lost a parent and children in one day. A woman who lost a husband and precious grandchildren in one swift moment. Children who lost siblings and a beloved Grandfather in one fell swoop. And so on.

It's unconscionable.

The funeral was emotional, moving, draining, abounding with attendees spilling out the door into the street.

Everything said can resonate with someone in that room.

And then, to hear "Kel maley rachamim" (Prayer for the deceased) said FOUR times in a row, once for each of the departed, brought chills to my spine and made the room seem to shudder.

We will never have the answer to the obvious question of,

"WHY".

But each one of us can come to our own determination of what lessons we should walk away with. And we can each prevail by choosing to live our lives in a way that will honor those who can no longer live life for themselves.

I am grateful that I was able to spend my summer wrapping myself in moments of blessing given to me by my Husband and children, and I will continue to do so.

Life is so fragile.

It can change on a dime.

Call Child Services, I Dare You

2010-06-22T09:36:00.012-05:00

The fact that I am writing this post at this very minute, very clearly implies that I am neglecting and utterly ignoring my children.

I have to explain to them that my blog is like a baby. And this baby, much like them, requires attention and nurturing from time to time. My poor blog baby is looking a bit malnourished and tenuous lately.

My lack of blogging also means Mamma has had lack of many happy hours as of late.

Let's backtrack in time, shall we???

I ~~forced myself~~ happily took it upon myself to train for another half marathon. My training began the day after passover. Between the beginning of February and Passover in April, I was spending every waking moment preparing for aforementioned Holiday. Before that, I was training from November of 2009 until January 31 2010, when I ran my first half marathon and before that I pushed out a nine pound three ounce bundle of joy to add to my collection of three other bundles of joy.

I'VE BEEN BUSY!!!

So, two Sundays ago, I ran my second half marathon and I am proud to say, (while my time still sucks) I did shave off 13 minutes from my first half marathon to my second.

AND I GOT ME A MEDAL!

(Nevermind my post race puffy look. I retain much fluid after 13.1 miles)

I actually recovered much quicker from this race than last. I only was walking like I just got off a horse for a few days as opposed to the 6 weeks of practically all out hip RE - location (no not dislocation) that I felt last time. Yes, last time my left hip felt like it had packed up and moved down south.

I thank my new found Chiropractor for that. As well as my massage therapist.

In fact, I felt so good after this last race, I was able to get my groove on later that night with my running friend (in the above picture) at a Sheryl Crowe concert.

So I was finally looking forward to a Sunday that did not involve kids swim lessons and myself taking off to run more miles than any human should run at one time, but of course that Sunday of pure rest and relaxation would have to wait.

My friend Rayli made a Bat Mitzvah at 11:30 in the morning, 45 minutes away from my house. It was a really fun and exciting and Beautiful Bat Mitzvah, (you hear me Rayli?) but it did not factor into my Sunday so well. I was making a birthday at 3:30 for Ate and Bam in my parents backyard that required pool inflating and hose configuring and water filling.

I had to get out of bed on a Sunday at 7:30 am (which I should consider a treat, since the previous Sunday I had to wake at 3:45 am to get to my race) but I am not really a morning person.

I drove to my parents with a crapload of stuff (it's times like these I wish I had a backyard) including one older kiddie pool that I surprisingly discovered was NOT placed into a black garbage bag after last years use, before it was placed under my deck for the winter. CRUDDY, can not even begin to describe it.

So there I was at my parents thinking it will all go smoothly. Then I realized they had no outdoor outlet for my pump to inflate the pool. So I had to find the nearest outlet to the backdoor, which had the pump literally being pulled right up to the screen door. I inflated that cruddy pool and two other pools. I was hoping that my newer pool would fill while I cleaned the crud up, but that would be too easy.

My parents hose did not reach from the water line all the way to the backyard, but it did reach the deck. So I spent 20 extra minutes, pulled from thin air and scrubbed that crud with dish detergent and rags and only became ever so slightly SATURATED and SOAKED with water.

I was running waaay behind and still needed to pick up the cake, some balloons and drinks. Oh, but first I had to go back home and get my hose to attach to my parent's hose to fill the damn pools, so the water would be warm for the birthday.

My "set it and forget it" birthday was taking a bit longer to set.

I got home, failing to complete ALL my tasks, at 10:15. I showered, dressed and finally made it out to the Bat Mitzvah with Hun at 11:15. We arrived shortly after 12 and there was some mean dancing going on, which Rayli made me join so that I could make a total fool of myself. Thanks Rayli.

I had to leave by 1:30, which ended up being 1:40 (after I took the not yet open sweet table hostage - for my kids, of course).

The drive home, uhhhh, did not go so well.

All I'll say is that it included a wrong turn and cutting off a cop who was none to happy.

We did not get to our house until 3, and I had to grab the kids and paraphernalia and get in the car and GO!!!!

I still had the food to put out and one pool to finish filling and bubble supplies and water guns to open....

I never did sit down, I was constantly "setting it" and never really had a chance to "forget it".

The weather was great though.

(PICTURES TO COME!!!)

The kids had a great time. They all agreed it was the best birthday party EVER! And then Ro asked with her sweet little voice, "can my next birthday be like this"?

Oh, poor, sweet Ro

YOUR BIRTHDAY IS IN FEBRUARY!!!

Do 7 year olds ski?

Until we I cleaned up and got everyone home, fed, bathed and in bed it was 8:30 and I was spent.

Monday morning I woke up as if I had a bottle of Jack with some Rufies slipped in the night prior. I had such a birthday hangover and very little memory of what actually occurred, except the image of some sweet smiles and the sounds of incessant giggling.

And now I need to stop neglecting my children, so we are off to the pool.

And by pool, I mean the free one at my friends condo that I neither need to de-crud or inflate. Because that is the way I roll.

Wouldn't Horse Hair Itch?

2010-06-17T13:49:00.014-05:00

They call this time of year, "Summer Vacation".

I'm sure my kids would agree with that term.

I however, refer to it as......

"Exhaust-ation"

I'm exerting much energy I do not possess, to take care of children who obviously want and deserve a much more structured environment.

BRING ON CAMP PLEASE!!!

I could use a nap.

Maybe if I sleep, even for only a few moments, in this....

A MATTRESS AT $33,000???

A MATTRESS AT $33,000??

by Anjali Athavaley
Wednesday, June 16, 2010

provided by

Mary Pat Wallace, owner of Hastens' Chicago, poses on the Vividus ultra-luxe bed that retails for $49,500.

Made with horsehair, silk and gold, new bedding pushes prices sky-high.

All I can say is - that bed better friggin' DRIVE me somewhere beachy and blissful if I am going to spend 33, 000 on it.

And this is not even the most expensive mattress on the market.

At this point, I would curl up on a bale of prickly hay if it meant I could catch just a few re-energizing z's.

33,000???

Do these people live in this universe?

Do they realize that there are people sleeping in cardboard boxes under trash and newspapers???

Oh, and I just realized that the picture included in this article is not even the 33,000 dollar mattress.

Noooooo, it's the more luxurious model retailing at 49,500.

And my husband is still without car because he is just coming to terms with how much those motorized modes of actual transportation cost.

Make that mattress FLY, and I just may consider it.

In the category of "stupid" this one is actually asinine.

For the love of extremely IMPOVERISHED humanity,

BUY A FUTON!!!

After that rant, I am further exhausted.

Good thing my lovely Mother In Law took the kids.

I'm off to my reasonably priced mattress.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Learn It Or Zip It!

2010-06-10T17:54:00.007-05:00

I can think of about 20 topics I can blog about, being that I have not consistently blogged for some time now.

I can talk about the AMAZING Blackhawks win last night, but I will spare you (for now).

I can blog about my ~~inconsistent, disrupted, non-existent~~ 1/2 marathon training for a run that takes place in 3 days, but I will wait.

I should mention that my two boys have each recently celebrated birthdays. But I may find the time to blog about that when I also find the time to actually throw them a birthday party.

I might add that I have one lovely child who graduated from Kindergarten.

But let me ask you,
how have the past few weeks been for you?

For me?

Well I'm Jewish ..... so ...... not the best.

I don't really like to discuss politics, so I won't.

I do like History though.

I really wish some people would just take the time to learn Jewish History.

I AM TALKING TO YOU HELEN THOMAS!!!

And all your ignorant defenders.

For everyone who wants the Jews to get out of "Palestine", and stop the "occupation" of the Palestinians, and send the Jews back to their "homes" in Poland and Germany, just take a few minutes a day and study Jewish history.

Humor me!

Just come back to me and tell me WHERE exactly the Jewish people's home is.

I'll start you off.

My dad was born in what was Czechoslovakia. His passport at one time said he was form Hungary. And now his passport says he is from the Ukraine. Although - all these places still seem to refer to the place he was born, where is he from?

Does it matter what his passport says...

Many Eastern European Jews only ended up there after being expelled from Spain.

Yes - LOTS of Jews lived in Spain.

But in 1492 when Columbus sailed the Ocean blue (oh, and pretty much opened the world's eyes to a New Land full of Native Americans who were themselves practically killed and removed to make room for Europeans) Spain decided they did not want Jews living there.

So many Jews went to Turkey, North Africa, Italy, Algiers, Egypt, Tripoli, Morocco, elsewhere in Europe .... you get the point. Many of these places took it upon themselves to be less then welcoming to Jews as well.

But how did Jews get to Spain in the first place?

That goes back to the Jewish Diaspora.

Romans conquered Judea and sent Jews as slaves to Rome. The theory is that Rome did much business with Spain and this allowed for Jews to end up in Spain.

But one point to highlight in the previous sentence is "Judea".

Judea would be Israel.

The Jews ended up there years and years earlier after being enslaved in Egypt, crossing a Sea, wandering through a desert, and watching the man that was leading them, Moses, pass away just before tasting the fruits of his labor ...... for his people ......

But if you ask most "Palestinians" today, especially the youth, they only know the past 43 years of history between the Jews and Arabs.

You can not understand today's evolving, explosive circumstances in the Mideast, without understanding where the conflict begins. And it begins in the Bible.

Abraham, the first of our forefathers, was married to Sarah, the first of our foremothers. She had a hard time conceiving and wanted Abraham to be a father. She was suffering infertility and she was pained by not being able to produce a child for Abraham. She asked Abraham to go off with his maidservant Hagar so she may conceive a child for him. She bore him a son named Ishmael.

After this, miraculously Sarah conceived in very old age and bore Abraham a son named Isaac. Isaac was chosen by G-d to be the son chosen to make a covenant between G-d and Abraham that He would be the Father of the Jewish nation via Isaac. Ishmael was promised to be the Father of other nomadic, wandering nations, most noted, Islam. The prophet Mohamed is a direct descendant of Ishmael.

Of course, all that is in the Old Testament and frankly, who reads that anymore????

Certainly not the guy at the end of this video.

I think most of these protesters have no idea what they are protesting.

I applaud the very brave boy who ALONE stood up to the slew of naysayers and misguided souls who took it upon themselves to make this a personal attack of this one boy, but they should learn some history before they go out in the streets.

The pro-"Palestinian" girl at the end also says something VERY telling. When all this time the Palestinians would have the world believe that they want PEACE, meaning a coexisting, side by side state of Palestine and Israel, she says the TRUTH!!!

It's the very few words of the last "pro-Palestenian" boy that really irk me. You want to come out and protest. At least do your friggin homework, or SHUT UP!

To My Little Men

2010-06-02T13:45:00.005-05:00

Dear Sons,

In the "FYI" category:

You do not need to keep YANKING, TUGGING, and GRABBING at "IT".

You do not need regular security checks.

You do not need to keep ascertaining that the thing is there.

It will not fall off.

I repeat ...

It will NOT FALL OFF!!!

It is attached.

Ate - there is no need to share "ITs" presence with us every time you leave the bathroom.

Bam - I would like to change your diaper in a timely fashion. Also I would like grandchildren one day and I don't think you know your own strength...

Just keep your hands above the belt please.

Especially in public.

Thank you.

Love,
Mommy.

Oedipus In My House

2010-05-25T10:35:00.004-05:00

I am starting to believe in this "Oedipus Complex" lately.

The Oedipus complex, in psychoanalytic theory, is a group of largely unconscious (dynamically repressed) ideas and feelings which center around the desire to possess the parent of the opposite sex and eliminate the parent of the same sex.

The other day, Ate, my almost 4 year old son was pointing to me and saying, "you have a girl baby..."

I couldn't get the scenario as it was playing out, because he was not pointing to my belly, he was pointing higher up.

I asked,
"what do you mean?"

He repeated,
"you have a girl baby, hehehehe..."

"Ate, Mommy does not have a baby in her belly (it's just taking it's frigginly slow time getting over the last baby)."

Ate - pointing to my chest area,
"so what's that?"

Me - ever so vaguely,
"that is my chest."

Ate -
"hahah, no, it's your boobies... hahaha."

SO IT BEGINS...

In the meantime, there is Ro...

Sunday evening Hun and I were getting dressed up to go attend a wedding.

Ro said to Hun,
"Aba (Daddy) you LOOK handsome."

(Guess Hun should take it wherever he could get it from)

Ro -
"Aba, can you spray that stuff that makes you SMELL handsome?"

For the record, when that "stuff" that makes him smell handsome was discontinued, I searched online for some of this rare "Fendi" cologne and bought the almost extinct cologne for a birthday gift just so my husband could continue to smell his handsome self.

It's either that or eu de smoked cheese.

The scary thing is, how many of us actually ended up "marrying" our opposite gender parent.

I totally did (unknowingly), and guess what, it's not a bad thing.

The surprise though, I also married my mother-in-law.

Like Dangling A Gem In Front Of A Thief

2010-05-14T10:50:00.004-05:00

By now some of you may have seen or heard of a "controversial" video sweeping across the Internet of five, 7 year old girls, scantily clad dancing to Beyonce's song "Single Ladies".

I will not link it here because I absolutely abhor it. It is an atrocious and completely inappropriate display by children of that age competing in a dance competition.

The girls are wearing red and black lacy panties and bra like top and thigh high stockings. Everything else is exposed.

They are well choreographed and are all talented dancers, however, the choreography clearly has them gyrating and moving in such ways that are less than appropriate for 7 year old girls in a public forum.

When the parents started to hear they were being scrutinized, their response,

"there is nothing inappropriate about our girls dancing in a competition..."

So here is my question -

Have we become just that desensitized to what are appropriate social guidelines should be or are we just that plain STUPID???

Which one is it?

Either way, it's not a compliment.

These parents, and anyone who would allow that sort of display in a dance competition by girls that young is either desensitized by what has become the unfortunate "accepted" morals and values of our current generation, or just too stupid to realize what they are now contributing to in terms of the moral destruction of our civilization.

It does not matter if you have a religious edict that spells out what your moral beliefs should be. It has nothing to do with religion. As far as I am concerned, it is common sense.

In this frightening world full of perverts and pedophiles and overt sex that can even CONFUSE ADULTS, why the hell would you sex up your child like that?

It diminishes them.

In fact, their talent in dance was completely lost to me when my jaw dropped at the sight of their playboyesque lingerie and how far they could split their legs and how suggestively they could sway their hips.

And let me remind you, I am NOT a pedophile or a pervert. So if it was that blatant to me (and quite disturbing) just imagine what is going through the minds of all those perverts.

PEOPLE - our children are the most precious "things" to us. At least, they should be.

Would you dangle your priceless gems in front of a thief?

Why would you put your most precious item on display like that?

It boggles my mind that our society has become THAT desensitized.

I shudder to think how much worse it can get.

Mazal Tov!

2010-05-06T16:57:00.003-05:00

When Hun and I went to Miami this past January, with Bam, leaving behind the older three with my parents, we planned to bring them each a gift back home.

Due to some unfortunate weather, we did not have the time to look for some kitchy, "Florida" like souvenir as I originally planned. In fact, we did not exactly leave Miami with any gifts for the kids.

We did, however, stop at a CVS in Chicago on the way home from the airport. I mean, a CVS is a CVS, whether in Chicago or Florida, right?

I ran in, leaving Hun and Bam in the car and made a beeline for the toy aisle.

It took a millisecond to realize there was nothing interesting, so I grabbed 3 beenie babies that were ON SALE!!!

I got a dolphin for Ro, a dog for Ate and a penguin for So.

The penguin is where this story begins.

His name is Archie.

Apparently, a friend of So's has a penguin beenie baby as well.

Because of So's liberal imagination and constant need for new projects, on the heels of a very successful birthday party thrown for Archie in school, So has decided that her penguin, Archie shall marry E.'s penguin, Iceberg. I am not exactly sure if Archie and Iceberg are different genders or if my liberal daughter is conducting a same gender marriage, but at least it is not an inter species marriage.

The wedding has been planned for a while. This is good because it allows for E.'s mother to decorate some cookies for the event. So I have been told. So would like me to contribute some dum dum lollipops for the reception attendees, 14, seven and eight year old girls, that is.

I believe the ceremony is to take place during recess. I have also learned that my daughter has a husband (Archie's father) who happens to resemble another 8 year old girl in her class, who will be overseeing the ceremony. It seems she has been ordained as the first Female/Rabbi/Father of the groom...

Is this a bad episode of "Southpark" or something of the like...

I hope they hired a videographer and photographer because, sadly, I was not invited, even as the Grandmother of the groom ( so insulted). And I think this, obviously, unprecedented affair should be very well documented.

Now,

do I send the dum dums or not?

Anyone Have A Pitchfork???

2010-05-05T09:21:00.003-05:00

I love my kids .... I love my kids .... I love my kids ... I love my kids...

I don't want to go bald, so I must stop pulling my hair out...

I am pretty sure my kids are just DONE!!! They are done with school, even though there are still a good 6-7 weeks.

ALL of them!!!

I would expect this from So. She was done with school by Winter break. She came back in January and decided to stop bringing her books home. I don't blame her. She would read her Hebrew studies out loud to me, without the book, by heart!!

She would go to school the next day and take five minutes and do whatever spelling and math workbook she had, during recess.

Considering the aforementioned, why should she bring her work home?

In fact, I would say she was done with Second Grade before she even entered Second Grade, but I don't want to take ALL the credit away from her teachers (whom I like, by the way).

Ate today just nonchalantly told me as we were entering his classroom,
"I rather just go back home..."

Oh really?

"Why?"

"Because I like my toys better."

He has a point. What will he gain in the next six weeks that he did not already get this year?

I don't need more projects and papers in my house. I keep them around until they are not looking, but I seriously have a fear, if I keep all of them it will lead me to become one of those crazy hoarding, cat ladies.

You know, the ones who can't walk through their home because of all the crap they hoard and there are at least ten cats and their excrement all over the house.

So, besides toy playing and project making and considering he has his letter and number recognition down, what's left. He can hold his pencil well, he holds scissors properly. He's all good. He can enter nursery next year.

And Ro, she actually still loves school. But it's mostly because she gets pizza and turkey subs for lunch. She was reading the books,
"Hop On Pop"
and
"Caps For Sale"

the other day.

She can read - so can we just call it a day and get this thing called "Summer" started already.

Oh, wait, I forgot.

Ro is spending the next 6 weeks preparing for her Kindergarten graduation.
I guess she needs to be in school for that.

So as the weather gets nicer and my kids go more stir crazy inside a school building learning more of things they already know, and come home and take out their frustration on each other and subsequently me, it begs the question,

CAN WE JUST CALL THIS THING

DONE???

Stick a fork in me,

because I am definitely done.

I am so done, it may need to be a pitchfork.

The Things You Don't Realize Until The Letter Arrives

2010-04-28T10:05:00.003-05:00

(If you did not read my last post you may want to start there...)

Something funny has been going on with my mail lately. I receive invitations to many community functions as well as all the regular bills and junk mail, but most recently I had not received two invitations (that I know were sent to me) for private celebrations.

One was a Bat Mitzvah

and the other is an upcoming wedding of a classmate of mine.

I just saw the bride herself at a shower we classmates made for her and everyone was just getting the invitations in the mail just prior to the weekend. Well as of yesterday I still did not receive mine.

However, I did find another card which I knew could not have been processed in the mail until this past Monday, the earliest. that means it was mailed out Monday and I received it Tuesday. Which begs the question,

WHERE IS MY WEDDING INVITATION???

Anyway, I knew this card was not mailed out until Monday because it referred to an incident that happened Sunday (which is why you should read my last post).

This was certainly not something I was expecting and I also did not expect the response I had towards it.

The cover of the card had the words "Thank You" written all over it in different fonts, and the handwritten note on the inside went like this -

Dear Orah,

How do you thank someone for saving your life?!
I am so grateful to God for placing you in my path today.
Your immediate care and concern made me feel safe during what was a very vulnerable time for me.
I'm so impressed with the way your children were beautifully well-behaved while you helped a stranger.
If ever there is ANYTHING you think I could do for you, PLEASE don't hesitate to call me!
Thank you so much!
Respectfully,
"Anne"
(phone number enclosed)

"Saving your life"?????????????

It was not until she wrote those words that I even remotely considered that I possibly saved someones life.

And so when I saw those words, I burst out crying.

I am not sure why exactly, but I had to pick So up from gymnastics and I just walked out with the card in my hand and got in the car, drove off, pulled the car over to wait for So at the same place where we were swimming on Sunday, and I just started bawling again like a baby.

I just did what needed to be done. Who thinks about what they are actually doing at the time?

It wasn't until the card arrived that I actually thought about what really occurred.

And then after I composed myself, I actually started laughing.

"Your children were beautifully well-behaved while you helped a stranger."

How did she have the presence of mind while she was in her compromised situation to notice how my kids were behaving???

And then for her to actually make a point of mentioning that to me....

I myself have no idea how my kids were behaving because I was pretty much ignoring them.

I would like to believe my kids are always well behaved (yeah right...) but truth is, they must have been behaving if I was able to focus all my attention on Anne during her crisis.

So I should thank them for that, I suppose.

I appreciate the note.

I spoke about the Hebrew term "Hashgacha Pratis" (Divine Providence), we also have a term in Hebrew called "Hakaras Hatov"
It's "recognizing the good" in someone and acknowledging it.

I appreciate that she acknowledged what I did (although I could have easily gone on with my life without the recognition from her), but I also realized I need to make a point of acknowledging my kids for how they waited patiently and allowed me the space and time to do what I needed to do.

So when they get home from school, that is just what I will do.

One small note in the mail, can go a distance not perceived.

Divine Providence

2010-04-27T09:25:00.011-05:00

In Hebrew we have a term called

"Hashgacha Pratis".

It means

"Divine Providence".

Loosely translated - it's G-d's will.

On Sunday, Hun went out of town. Hun goes out of town often, here and there, but not typically on Sunday. I absolutely loathe when Hun travels away on Sunday.

Hun is an extremely hard worker. He works incredibly long hours and I appreciate it, but he is a workaholic.

I will not state outright on my blog what hours he is away, but I am a single parent when my kids wake and need to get ready for school and I am a single parent when they need supper and to be put to bed. So when Sunday comes around, that is my day.

NO! Not MY day for my selfish self. It's my day to get things done that I can not get to during the week because I am so focused on the children. Such things as, laundry, cleaning, hanging clothing that has been sitting in the laundry basket all weekend.... you get the point. I do however, NOT get out of bed until 9 am on Sundays.

My kids have swim lessons, so Hun takes the older three to the local community center, Bam goes in for his morning nap, and I get to work. After Hun returns, I leave him in the house with the kids and go out running. (I am currently training for another 1/2 marathon)

My kids have been taking swimming lessons for a few seasons already, and I can not remember the last time I was the one who took them. I had no choice this past Sunday, but to rearrange my day, let certain things go and reluctantly drag myself out of bed, way before 9 am.

I am not a morning person in the first place and even though I somehow manage every other day of the week, Sunday was tough.

So takes the first session of swim which starts at 10:15 and ends 11:15. I already arranged for a lovely friend to take her to that swim session to make it slightly easier on myself, and then I would meet her there with the other kids when she was done. I also had to take Bam with to swimming, which is not usually the case for Hun.

To make my morning more enjoyable, Ate decided to throw one of his "I don't want to swim" tantrums. He used to go swimming just fine and one week (with Hun) abruptly threw a tantrum at the pool, that many people were witness to, adamantly refusing to swim. Long story short, I think he was traumatized by one swim instructor who is less than warm and friendly. Leelah - the most amazing swim instructor who has been there for years, but teaches the stronger swimmers in the deep end, took it upon herself week after week to get Ate in the water, even wearing a life vest, in her group that Ro happens to be in. But it's still always a struggle with Ate.

So I said to Ate, who was screaming at an octave off the charts, that we would just pack his swim stuff up in case he changes his mind. His response,
"I NOT CHANGIN' MY MIND!!!"

So - we'll see how that works out.

Every Sunday I put the kids swim stuff together and pack another bag of some snacks so that while the kids wait for the other to complete the sessions they have what to snack on. Because Ro and Ate would not be at swimming until it was actually time for their lesson, I was about to forgo packing up snacks. But at the last minute, for some reason I changed my mind and quickly threw string cheese, pretzel rods, and a container of the baby's "fruit puffs" into a bag. I put diapers, wipes and a bottle with powdered formula and a bottle of water in my purse, got the kids in the car, and drove off in the pouring rain to swim lessons.

When we got to the locker room, Ro changed herself and I had to work on Ate a bit more. Babysteps - I kept thinking.

"Ate, how about we just get your swim stuff on, just in case..."

"Okaaaaaay, but I NOT GOING SWIMMING!"

I put his bathing suit on and we go to the pool. So is there and she goes to the locker room to change and decided to watch an indoor baseball game in the gym (rained IN, I guess).

When we get to the pool, Leelah sees Ate and says,

"Ate, why don't you get a life vest and come join us?"

"I NOT SWIMMING!!!"

So I say, as I coax him towards the hanging life vests,

"Ate, Mommy doesn't get to see you swim, I really want to see how you swim so nicely."

"I NOT GOING SWIMMING!!!"

As I grab a life vest off the line, I notice one of the biggest cockroaches near a woman's foot and point it out to her. At this point she goes screaming and Ate can't get to the other side of the pool quick enough (which happens to be the deep end, where we needed to go).

Thanks to the (now smushed) cockroach, Ate decided it must be safer IN the water than out, and he has his life vest on and is with Leelah.

The duration of the hour had me sitting on a bench with the cutest naked baby (I removed his clothing due to the heat and humidity in the pool area), clapping, waving and cheering for Ate EVERY time he jumped in the water and swam, and occasionally to Ro as well, and also noticing one other woman there.

I knew who she was, from my community. She is a few years younger than me. I noticed her for a couple of reasons.

1) I knew she used to be extremely overweight and I noticed she was quite thin now.

2) She was wearing a turtleneck and leggings under a skirt at the pool and a heavy cap on her head and I was getting hot just looking at her. I was in a t-shirt and skirt with bare legs and a light bandanna covering my hair and I was sweating just from the humidity.

3) She seemed to have a look of concern on her face and kept changing her position, standing, sitting, squatting ...

But most of the time I was focused on the baby that would have liked to jump out of my arms into the pool, and the boy who was happily swimming - THANK G-D.

Swimming ended at 12:05 and I gathered Ro and Ate and went into the locker room to get them dressed. So showed up and was trying to hold Bam on her lap sitting on a very narrow bench, but I could see he was wiggling a lot, and tried to rush to dress the other kids so I could take him.

But I was interrupted by a woman. It was the woman who I noticed before, by the pool. I will call her Anne.

Anne approached me and asked me,

"Umm .... do you .... umm .... would you .... do you .... maybe .... have some .... umm ... food I could have?"

Right away I knew something was not right.

I did not see her child near her, I did not even know who her child was, boy or girl? Was he/she out of the pool?

She was diaphoretic (sweating profusely). Was that due to sitting at the pool in heavy clothing?

Her speech was slurred and slow. Does she always talk that way? Meaning, does she have some sort of mental/psychological break that causes her to speak this way?

Remember, I don't really know her.

"Are you okay?"

"I .... ummm .... I'm not sure."

She was not completely coherent.

I said,
"First of all, sit down."

I had her sit on the bench and lean her head down.

I grabbed my bag of snacks, the one that I was so close to NOT bringing with me, and handed her a pretzel rod.

I was concerned for her, but also her child, because I had not seen the child with her at this point.

After gathering all my information, including the fact that I knew she was once overweight and now was thin. She was sweating, pale, shaking and her eyes were fixed and she seemed to be just on the edge of some disorientation, I asked,

"Are you diabetic?"

She first responded,

"I always bring food ....... I brought some fruit ..... it's in my car."

"I think you might be having hypoglycemia."

"Yes," she said.

"Do you have a child here?"

"Uhh, yes ...... here, somewhere."

She was eating the pretzels at this point, and a boy walked up wrapped in a towel just then.

I asked him,

"Is this your Mommy?"

He nodded.

I did not want him to get scared so I just told him that his Mommy got very hot at the pool and she just had to rest for a moment.

At this time, many things were going on at once and I was beginning to feel pulled, but trying to focus on her.

So could no longer hold Bam, because he was wiggling too much, so I told her to put him on the floor. The locker room floor is not typically where you want to put your baby, but that was the least of my concerns right now. Ate and Ro still needed help getting dressed, and were asking for snacks as well. I also wanted to get her son's clothing and help him get dressed.

Another woman who had a child at the swim lessons had returned to the locker room and handed Anne a coke and then immediately walked away. This told me that Anne had already said "something" to this other woman that caused her to bring the coke. However, the fact that the woman just handed it to her and walked away meant that woman did not utilize the same skills I did to assess the situation as dire requiring someone to remain with Anne. Anne had no idea when she walked over to me that I was actually a nurse.

As Anne was eating the pretzel and drinking the coke, she became slightly more coherent and I asked her if there was someone for me to call, otherwise I would need to straight out call the paramedics. She called her mother, but I was not sure if she was actually getting the message across. She then said something about her father coming but she needed to call him. She dialed the phone and I spoke to her father telling him that his daughter could not drive herself and her son home at this time and the gist of what was going on. I told him I would help finish getting his Grandson changed and would get her upstairs to the door and stay with her until he arrived. He said he would be there in about five minutes.

I quickly finished getting everyone changed and Anne was well enough to stand up and get upstairs, where I sat her down. She was still weak but I was able to talk to her a bit more about the situation.

She told me that she used to have high blood pressure and high sugar and was overweight and she took Glucophage (diabetic oral medication) and lost a lot of weight. Her sugars came down but she was losing too much weight so the Doctors told her to stop taking Glucophage. Now her sugars were low and she had monitoring instruments (at home) and keeps her sugars stable only with diet (no insulin) and trys to eat regularly and take food, like fruit with her when she is out.

I asked her if this has happened to her before. She said it never happened to this degree. She asked me if being by the pool could have any influence. I said, the only thing that may make a difference is that the temperature by the pool along with your heavy dress may have caused you to burn more calories (like with exercise), and in that sort of situation you would need to be prepared to take in more sugar, to make up for the sugar burned.

I was still unclear about whether or not she was officially diagnosed as diabetic, or just hypoglycemic, but it seemed like she was unsure as well, and was never given enough information or education on the situation.

At this point I did tell her I was a nurse. I told her that because of her condition she should

a) Always carry her sugar testing instruments with her. In a situation like this, she should test her sugar, eat something and then test about 15 minutes later and log the information to bring back to her Doctor.

b) Always have the food, or juice on her being. It should not have been left in the car.

c) Get herself a bracelet that identifies her condition and wear it all the time. If I had found her passed out on the locker room floor and called the paramedics, no one would have known why she was unconcsious or how to immediately revive her. A bracelet would have told paramedics to test her sugar and they would have given her intravenous glucose injection which could easily revive her immediately.

d) she must call her Doctor immediately and have further testing and further education on her condition.

I also told her father all the previous information because she was still shaken and I could not be certain how much information she was taking in.

Her father asked her if this happened before and she also replied that it never happened to this degree. I told him that a few more minutes and I might have found her in "Insulin Shock" (she does not take insulin, but her low sugar would have caused the same effect). His response told me that he also did not have a clear understanding, because he told me that he thought it only happened to HYPERglycemics.

She said that she was starting to feel so lightheaded and had cloudy vision (halo effect - like seeing circles over your eyes). That typically happens just before someone passes out.

I was now comfortable leaving her with her father and I gathered up my kids and left.

I realized then - the "Hashgacha Pratis" (Divine Providence)

A) I am never, ever at swimming with my kids, Hun is the one who takes him, and obviously he would have been in another locker room and his lack of knowledge in this regard would have given him no input.

B) She could have walked up to anyone else in the locker room. In fact she did. And that person (only slightly helpful) walked away to get the soda without first making sure she was in a safe environment with someone else. And then returned with a soda, but only handed it to her and walked away without making sure she was going to remain okay. I know she was trying to be kind and helpful and did not know how dire the situation was. But even if I was not a nurse and did not recognize exactly what was going on, I still would not have left until I knew she was okay to potentially drive herself and her son, etc....

C) In the end though, it was me that she came to, and I was able to give her information that she needs so she does not end up in this predicament again. And if she G-d forbid does end up in the same situation, she needs a tell tale sign so that she would receive the proper help.

It was also not so convenient to have my kids standing around, but I realized that they, especially my older girls, had received a valuable lesson as well. That when we recognize someone is in trouble, we need to go all out to help them. And we need to make sure that EVERYTHING is okay before we walk away.

I have no doubt, that I was meant to be there, exactly when I was. And hopefully Anne will be safer in the long term for it.

But I am still going to send Hun back to do the swim lessons next Sunday.

☺☺

Attack Baby

2010-04-22T07:37:00.011-05:00

Wow! Babies can be dangerous.

My nephew A. who is two months older than Bam is a biter. His siblings and anyone curious enough to want to hold or play with that little bundle of joy is forewarned.

My Bam is sweet as honey in nature. Suffice it to say, he wouldn't hurt any one of the 30 or so ants that keep crawling by my front door (unless you consider when he tries to eat one).

Having said that, his hands are .... how shall I put it ....

quite hazardous.

I feel as if I should wrap him in police tape,

"Warning, do not cross!!! DANGER DANGER!!!"

He will whack you in the face to see your response. He likes to grab your ears and try to rip them off. His nails seem to grow back as soon as I cut them, more lethal than they were before. He likes to collect some of your skin beneath those lethal weapons. He practices his newly acquired pointing skills right in your eye. And his favorite victim is his unsuspecting sister Ro.

But having said all that, I would like to reemphasize

Bam is sweet as apple pie, by nature.

Although it may be more like sugar free apple pie.

"What, me trouble?"

Imagine if you will, any species of CAT. Laying in wait .... ready to pounce at any moment. Imagine as a small animal, maybe a rodent is near by. And just as it attempts to run past the cat....

BOOM!

A cute little paw, slams down on it's tail, taunting and terrorizing the small unsuspecting rodent.

Yep! That pretty much sums up this boy.

Bam is as sweet as pure sugar on a stick. But watch out for those cute, chubby paws.

Blooming So

2010-04-19T14:58:00.006-05:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again -

carpool with six girls under the age of 7 is highly entertaining.

So I give you another installment of

"Carpool Theater".

(all names have been changed to protect the ~~not so~~ innocent.)

So: Zelda, I made us a cool project for the summer. I got a box and made different sections and plastic bags all marked to hold different flowers that we'll collect.

(why So does these things and alone, can keep the plastic baggie industry afloat is it's own post for another time)

Beth: So, why you collecting flowers, they are just gonna be dead.

So: It's a project for me and Zelda, right Zelda?

Zelda: Right!

Beth: But the flowers will be dead and won't have any color.

So: The flowers will have color.

Elle: (with her Barbra Walters speech impediment) Beth is wight. Fwowas wiw die. When you take them fwom the gwound you KIW them.

So: It doesn't matter. We are going to flatten them, and they will have color. And we will flatten them in between the plastic.

Elle: Why you going to KIW fwowas? Those awe G-d's cweation. You can't kill G-ds cweatues.

So: We can take them for doing experiments and we can flatten them and hang them in a frame at the end of the summer.

Beth: Huh? How do you hang flowers in a frame.

So: And we can do experiments with the flowers.

Beth: But how do you hang flowers in a frame?

Elle: You can't KIW fwowas for no weason.

So: It can be for good reasons. Like we can make it into art for a wedding gift.
(whose wedding is that girl going to?)

Elle: You stiw a fwowa kiwwa (roughly translated - you still a flower killer)

So: Scientists do it all the time, anyway.

Beth: But So, the flowers won't look nice when they are dead.

So: The kind of flowers we are picking won't lose color.

Beth: How do you know?

So: I read books on flowers.

Elle: Maybe the books awe lying.

So: The books are non fiction.

Beth: How do you know the books are non fiction

So: It says it on the spine of the book.

Elle: Maybe the wibwawy (library) is wying.

So: Libraries don't lie. There is a sticker on the spine of the book and it says non fiction

Beth: I go to the Library all the time, I did not see a book on flowers.

So: Not the school Library, The Chicago Public Library.

Beth: Yeah, I go to the Chicago Library all the time, I never see books on flowers.

So: It's in the non fiction flower section.

Beth: I was in that section, I never saw it.

So: Maybe it was checked out when you were there.

Elle: You stiw shouldn't kiw fwowas. You can't kill G-d's cweatures.

So: But we kill animals and eat them.

And with that we arrive to school.

Too bad. After the flower project, flower killer, library locating non fiction flower book lessons, I was curious where the animal killing conversation would go.

I unloaded the car, and as So stepped out and looked worn out from defending her brilliantly planned flower project, I gave her a huge kiss on her head and told her she was my favorite "So" flower.

You Are A Star

2010-04-15T20:01:00.008-05:00

I have recently tapped into the richest natural resource ever.

No

Not oil!

Here in Chicago, it is extremely sought after. Mostly between the months of November and May, but sadly, unattainable.

But for the past two days

I

have

soaked so much up

I just might be good if I have to wait until May for my next fix.

Good ol' fashion Vitamin D!

Straight from the sun itself.

Just the way I like it.

It's invigorating,

energizing,

exhilarating,

intoxicating,

refreshing,

renewing,

roborant.

It's definitely my drug of choice.

If only we could bottle it up and take it in some form on a daily basis...

Okay, I realize they do bottle it up in it's unnatural pill form.

But I am talking about bottling up some sun.

If anyone figures out how to do that ..... I'd.... uh.... I would ...

HOUND YOU!!!

I love me some sun.

I'd like to put a sticker on the sun.

I would confiscate a sticker from my daughter's school paper and stick it on the sun.

It says,

"You Are A Star"

How apropos.

Bring Your Own Potty

2010-04-13T16:27:00.008-05:00

I am not Irish and have no plans to fly in and out of Ireland any time soon. So I probably won't be flying "Ryanair" airlines.

This is good, because if I were flying "Ryanair" I would probably have to dig under my sofa cushions to muster up all the loose Euro coins I could find in order to use the airplane bathroom.

A couple problems with this ...

1) I am not from Europe and therefore have no Euro coins.

2) I refuse to ever pay to use a bathroom.

Use of bathroom is not a privilege, it's a RIGHT!!!

Also, those Irish airline decision makers should know by now, if someone has to pee (or worse) not being able to access a coin operated loo is not going to stop anybody.

So, have they really thought this through? Do they realize the possible ramifications of flying thousands of feet in the air with 190 passengers, many of whom have no pocket change, but still have bladders in perfect working order?

I half joked about this with my mom years ago, after airlines started charging for checked luggage and meals, and whatever other things my kids will never know were once included in the price of an airline ticket...

I realized it was a possibility when I remembered walking through Budapest and finding a box that looked like a closet in middle of the street and realized it was a bathroom and one can only access it with a Hungarian Forint.

I also realized that once the door was open with ONE coin, it could be accessed by everyone in your party so long as no one let it swing closed with no one on the inside.

So with all the money that "Ryanair" HOPES to make, will they have bathroom police? I gather this whole "pay-to-pee" idea will cause fellow passengers to become very neighborly and shove a small object in the door jam so the door can be easily opened when necessary by the next passenger. Who is paying attention anyway?

And "Spirit" airlines? Ha! Where is your spirit? You want passengers to start paying for carry-ons? I heard you will forgo charging for bags that contain items necessary for babies. Well, I have news for you. Men are the biggest babies of all. If they don't have their laptop with them, they do cry. Can we not charge for those babies' necessary carry-on items as well? And what about elderly who may need medication on board and other items. What about someone who needs to carry-on an Oxygen tank? Will you charge them?

Does it really matter - I assume you will start charging a fee to circulate fresh oxygen throughout the airplane altogether. In the very least, you will make the oxygen masks coin operated. In case of sudden change in cabin pressure, please rummage through your purse (that you paid a fee for to carry-on the plane) QUICKLY, so you can get your Oxygen mask in a timely fashion.

Passengers will be paying for seats, because the airlines WILL offer standing room only. BYOLC - bring your own lawn chair (but you will pay a fee to carry it on).

Oh, and eventually you will have to pay if you want an actual pilot flying your plane. It seems if you want to travel by air, you can do so, standing in an empty metal tube that may or may not have oxygen circulating flying by some remote controlled access, overseen by some teenager with a genius IQ while he plays "Rockband" on his Wii. SWEET!!!

I really don't think there is anywhere I want to go. Certainly not with "Ryanair" or "Spirit" airlines.

But just in case, it's times like these that I am proud my mother refers to me as a camel.

I hold my water well.

Unfortunate Potatoes

2010-04-08T17:26:00.009-05:00

I AM SICK OF POTATOES!!!

Seriously, if I was Irish, I could totally use a potato famine right about now.

I am so over potatoes that I am grateful I do not live in Idaho. I would have to move from the "Potato State" - that is how much I loathe potatoes at the moment.

On passover, we are restricted when it comes to good eats. We can not eat leavened bread or anything resembling leavened bread. That is pretty much everything made with any grain flour mixed with water, eggs and becoming gluten.

We can not eat pasta and our "white" carb intake is practically limited to Matzah and .....

wait for it ....

wait for it ....

wait for it ....

POTATOES!!!

My problem is, I have way too many potatoes left. I have to use them up before they go rotten. Because everyone knows, if there is anything worse than too many potatoes - it's too many rotten potatoes.

So tonight, for supper ...

MASHED POTATOES!

One must be super innovative when it comes to utilizing too many potatoes.

Baked

Mashed

Fried

Roasted

Sauteed

Boiled

chip form

Kugel (quiche)

au gratin

pancaked

gnocchid

casseroled

salad..ed

with cheese

with sauce and cheese

with sauce, hold the cheese

with mayonnaise

with sour cream

RAW?

I'm sure I left out many potato innovations. Feel free to add yours to my comment section. I have a feeling I will be eating various potato recipes for the foreseeable future

But I am willing to give bags away for free...

Anyone?

Anyone?

Potato Parte`?

(or in the least, potato pate`?)

What Next?

2010-04-07T00:51:00.004-05:00

WHEW!!!!!

Another Passover has Passed Over...

I have not blogged in so long that I actually had to sign in and almost forgot my password.

Imagine that.

I have to say, even with the strict Passover food restrictions, I did not miss much. But when the temperature hit over 80 degrees, I was a bit pissed I could not walk into Starbucks for a Mocha Frap.

The craving got pretty bad at one point causing me to hallucinate the idea of an intravenous of Mocha Frap perfusing my veins.

So now I can move on .... with ... uh .... ahhhh....

LIFE - I guess.

Thank you to all my bloggy friends who continue to check in even though I have been MIA. I really do appreciate it.

All Talk

2010-03-18T10:17:00.003-05:00

My kids do as many kids do....

....They say things that make me laugh.

While I realize that some of their more memorable and laughable revelations and announcements may actually ONLY be funny to me, I will share them here anyway -

mostly so I can throw out the papers that they are written on.

Me: "Ate, why are you full of paint? How did you get so much paint up your sleeve and in your hair?"

Ate: "Lee (his 3 yr old cousin) painted on me."

Me: "Why did Lee paint on you?"

Ate: "Oh ..... she thought I was an easel."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ate: (brings a "little people" playground toy) "Mommy, is this a merry go round?"

Me: "Yes."

Ate: "But this is the go round, where's the merry?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

So: "Mommy, can I have soda?"

Me: "No, it's not good for you."

So: "You know what's worse than soda?"

Me: "What?"

So: (yelling) "POISON!!"

---------------------------------------------------------------

So has a "Fiona" doll (from Shrek) with stuffing coming out. After I told So and Ro they could not have soda, she asked me if I could fix her doll.

Me: "I will sew up Fiona."

(A minute later I realized Ro was crying for no apparent reason.)

Me: "Ro, why are you crying?"

Ro: "You said you would give So some soda."

Me: (confused) "Huh .......... no, I said I would SEW UP FIONA!!!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So: (in the car) "Mommy, where you taking us?"

Me: "It's a surprise."

So: "But maybe you are taking us to a stranger's house and they will kidnap us."

Me: (sarcastic, of course) "Yes, I am taking you to a stranger's house and leaving you there..."

So: "Noooooooooo, really?"

Me: "If you keep asking me where we're going, I will."

Ate: "TAKE RO TOO!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ate: "My eye is twisted, I need a new one."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So: "What's a first aid kit?"

Me: "Something that contains all you need to help someone if they get hurt or injured."

So: "Like shots?"

Me: "No, more like bandaids and cream..."

So: "Oh ......... so what is a second aid kit?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ro: "What's for dessert?"

Hun: "Watermelon, strawberries..."

Ro: "No, I mean, like, what is for dessert that is nutritious?"

Hun: "Huh?"

Ro: "You know, like cookies or cake..."

Me: "Oh, you mean NOT nutritious."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ate: (typical boy) "Smell my feet."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

And from my BIGGEST kid of all -

(I hate his crackberry)

We are driving...

Me: "Hypothetically speaking, what happens if I open the car door and your Blackberry "accidentally" falls out and we "accidentally" drive over it?"

Hun: "I get a new Blackberry."

Me: "And what if that phone "accidentally" falls into the garbage disposal and gets ground up into tiny shards?"

Hun: "I GET A NEW WIFE!"

PEAS And Passover

2010-03-16T22:15:00.017-05:00

ATTENTION:

To the guy (or girl - because you just never know) who googled "Hot Banging Mammas" and was (sadly) directed to my blog ....

....I have a feeling I was not the sort of "Hot Banging Mamma" you were looking for.

So sorry to disappoint.

------------------------------------------------------

I am pleased to tell you that my Dad is doing very well (thank G-d). He would have been running around the day after surgery, but my mother grounded him (per Doctor's orders).

But the next day he was at the produce store pickin' out his fruits and veggies just the way he likes 'em.

Of course, the bigger picture that includes an undesirable reality .... that still exists. But, with good friends and deafening music, I was relieved from my "funk" if only for a moment.

BLACK EYED PEAS

Them and the couple at the end of my row who puts the well known phrase -

"GET A ROOM"

to shame, because they thought THEY alone had an entire ARENA

were my entertainment this past Saturday night.

Fergie and Will I Am

The Peas

Surprise! It's Slash

Will I Am was literally singing and texting at the same time. But I will excuse him, because it was his birthday.

Taboo (he scares me a little bit)

Anyway, it was fun, and I am still deaf.

But now I am back in my pre-Passover preparation HELL.

But heaven will be spending a lot of Passover with my Mom and Dad.

And THAT is a blessing.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

In A Funk

2010-03-11T10:29:00.005-06:00

I feel like I am being pulled in ten different directions. We all go through it at some time, especially the wives and mothers of the universe. But, these past few weeks have been both joyous and unnerving and I do not see any rest for the weary in my future.

A few weeks ago we celebrated the holiday "PURIM". I will not do a whole post about it because it just seems like it happened so long ago. But we do dress up for that holiday and I will include one picture of the children.

If you can guess who they are ..... well then ..... you are genius.

Life here has been hectic because there have been many unfortunate changes within the family.

My Mother-in-law who is an amazing person that I am extremely fortunate to have a great relationship with is scarce these days.

I have become spoiled by her frequent offers to babysit or have the children over in the past, but she has been in California indefinitely. Unfortunately, she had been attending to the needs of her brother's family as his wife is tragically being treated for cancer.

My Dad became violently ill not too long ago and it was so out of the ordinary for him that my mother begged him to go to the hospital in middle of the night.

Out of seven kids in our family, I and my baby brother are the only ones living in Chicago where my parents reside. I AM A DAUGHTER!!! That means, I am typically the one HERE to take on the role of "parent keeper".

I told my Mom if he is still not well the next day he must go to the Doctor and have a blood draw...

He was feeling better and did not have a blood draw.

Not that the Doctor would have helped anyway because he has a Sh#%head for a Doctor. I know this, because I went to that Doctor too and unless you have a cold, he doesn't pursue anything in the way of finding the problem in order to get to a solution.

I have been begging my Dad for years to get a new Doctor, but I think he feels safe with a Doctor who tells him that everything is A - OK all the time.

My parents went to Israel not too long ago and two days after they arrived there, I received a phone call from my brother that started like this,

"I don't want to scare you, but Dad is in the Hospital...."

Well guess what?

I am friggin' scared!

But G-d works in mysterious ways.

He was staying at my sister, the one who is a nurse over the weekend, when he had a violent attack much like the one he had previously in Chicago. She works at a hospital just a few blocks from her home, and took him there immediately.

There they discovered he has gallstones and his recent illnesses were therefor gallstone attacks.

But after two days of IV antibiotics and medicines, they determined he was not an emergent case and could finish out his trip and safely return to Chicago and find a surgeon here.

Since then, I have been emotionally vested and physically making myself available to help find Doctors and follow up with what direction they would take. And one great thing to come out of this, my Dad also finally agreed to find a new Primary Care Physician.

Two days ago I was in the hospital with my Mom while my Dad had his gallbladder removed and I am THANKFUL that it all seemed to have gone well and he is home now recuperating.

I feel relieved that this "problem" can be checked off, however, it has me facing a cold reality that I do not like.

I wish my parents a loooooooong and healthy life (ad meah v'esrim shana). But, they are not young, and I feel my time being split now, between taking care of my own children, and my lovely aging parents.

I do not have many siblings around "physically" to participate in this new routine of mine (however, all the siblings make many phone calls and participate in decision making). And as an emotional person, these episodes sadden me and put me in a funk.

So that is where I have been lately....

IN A FUNK!!!

Any wise one want to tell me how to get out of it?

How To Make A Six Year Old (And Her Tired Mommy) Smile For Days...

2010-02-25T09:43:00.028-06:00

Been busy, busy.

It's that time of year again - holidays, holidays.

Oh,

and a birthday.

Ro turned six. Her official birthday was February 4, but I returned from Miami on February second, so I did not even give it a thought until I returned, which delayed the birthday process.

On Feb. 8 I made her a little celebration in her classroom with some mini cupcakes.

I brought sister So and cousin Yo over to celebrate.
Yes, it was, Ro, So and Yo.

The class made her a book of birthday wishes for her. There were many wishes for her to somehow acquire much Polly Pockets. That was poor wishing on their part since I have a mobile nine month old who has perfected his pincer grasp and his fine motor skills have him pincing small objects and placing them in his mouth. So Polly Pockets are vetoed.

That was the easy part, but now I had to plan a birthday party for her outside of school.

LET THE HEART PALPITATIONS COMMENCE!!!

First, I hate parties in my house, and Ro is a winter baby, so where would I have a party.

Second, I did not exactly have the energy at the time to find art projects and activities to do with kids for one and a half hours.

Then, I was trying to find a Sunday, but...

..... every Sunday until March 7 was filled with other birthdays, Community concerts (Uncle Moishy), Purim - our upcoming holiday...

It looked like I had to wait to March 7 to make the party and now we are getting close to Passover, a holiday for which we are required to clean our homes of things made from grains, including all cake and snacks that 15 girls munch on during parties in places you won't know about.

So I absolutely refused to have this party in my house.

I called a local community center to see how much it would cost to rent a room. The price was so high, for just a room (I still had to provide the activities) that it made sense to go somewhere else that provided entertainment as well. But the bowling alley that So had her birthday at, is sadly gone. The local pottery place - shut down. Someone else was making a birthday two weeks earlier for the same girls at an indoor inflatable climbing place...

And then my sister-in-law called.

She would be honored as a "woman of valor" and guess when the luncheon is?

MARCH SEVENTH!!!

So, I asked her,

"Does this mean I have to go?"

To which she replied,

"If you love me you do."

Of course I was joking. Absolutely I am going.

But when the heck do I make Ro a party?

And then it came to me,

SATURDAY NIGHT!

See, we can't really make the same sort of birthdays on a Saturday, because that is our Sabbath and we don't drive. People who live far, wouldn't be able to come. We can't really do many activities either. So I had to wait until sundown, which was about 6 PM and give myself time to set up.

So I called the birthday for 7 - 8:30 Pm and it became a...

wear your pajamas,
bring your pillow
and
favorite stuffed animal

Tinkerbell themed,
undernighter.

And, because I went with this theme, it became a "movie" party, which took all the stress away and I was singing my brilliant praises (even though part of me thinks "movie" parties are cop-outs).

But it's 7 friggin' Pm at night and they are 13 five and six year olds and throw in a couple of 3 year olds all hyped up on sugar and salt, and what else can you do?

And because I made this party a bit easier on myself, I decided with the energy I had spared to make my own cake, which seemed like a bright idea at first.

Then I realized I had to make Tinkerbell!

I now bring you my cake making process...

Good Enough!!!

And Saturday night arrived.

Did I say we were showing a Tinkerbell Movie?

I mean,

WE WERE SHOWING A TINKERBELL MOVIE!!!

Our concession stand! Your choice of popcorn, chips, or pretzels.

Our Movie screen, aka - a big white wall.

Our, seating, laying, drop your snacks all over the blankets, area.

And (sadly) time to cut into THAT cake.

I don't really care if it was a cop-out. It was probably the most affordable, low maintenance, enjoyable party I ever made.

And more importantly,
it didn't kill me.

And even better than that,
Ro had the sweetest, most beautiful smile on her face for days after.

Miami 2010 is Yesterday

2010-02-18T10:21:00.023-06:00

The race was over. All that I worked for, all that I trained for had culminated into these few final moments of celebration.

I kept imagining while I was running the last few miles (and feeling very hot) that I would get to the hotel, remove my stinky socks and sneakers and jump into the pool in my running clothes.

Of course, by the time I made it back to the hotel, my body had much time to cool off and the sweat that sat on my skin was causing me to feel quite cold and all I wanted to do now was get a hot coffee from the Starbucks in the lobby and sit in that really deep jacuzzi tub in my room.

That is what I did. I actually drank my skinny cinnamon dolce latte while in the tub and I almost passed out from overheating.

As time was passing, my muscles were feeling more and more worn out and it was getting hard for me to walk.
I am pretty sure that my gate made me look like I just got off a horse.

It was already time for the post - race victory dinner in the hotel. However, when we arrived, all of the hot dogs and hamburgers were gone and because they rushed to bring out more, the burgers were seriously undercooked and quite raw in the center and I lost my appetite. I figured we would just order food later from somewhere (which we did). But first, I very intelligently made the decision to take a walk on the boardwalk (because running 13.1 miles that morning was not enough to keep me from making my legs move).

We had time to bask in the warmth and sun of Miami, because I made plans to stay until Monday night, taking into consideration that post-race I would be too sore to get my act together to fly home and sit in one tight spot for 3 hours on an a$$ that felt like it had taken a serious beating.

The wind was beginning to pick up and it was obvious that rain was on its way, but we took advantage of the fact that it was still pleasant enough to be outside.

WE WENT BIRD WATCHING

I like birds in Miami. They are just more "tropical" than birds in Chicago and they sing better.

We checked out the pool at the "Fontainebleu" hotel and decided that this is where we would go swimming the next day. (Well, we shall see how that idea turns out.)

And we took Bam to the beach. This was a better view for him than last year. Last year we took the older three kids to Miami and Bam's only view was a bit murky and that of a placenta and uterus. Yes, I was 7 months pregnant with him last year, this time.

And then we had to return to the hotel for the 5 PM massage I booked.

THE WORST MASSAGE I HAVE EVER RECEIVED IN MY LIFE!!!

I am not one who usually pays for spa massages. I do have a serious need for massages due to some neck and upper back issues. However, I discovered that if I go to a "massage therapist" at my Chiropractor's office, then my insurance pays for it.

But every so often, I treat myself. And I figured, after 13.1 miles of running, now was the time, if any.

When I booked the appointment (from Chicago) I ascertained that this particular massage was deep tissue and would be good for a post- half marathon run. I was also told that I could tell the attendant to focus on the areas that were in most need of massage.

1. That was so NOT deep tissue. It felt like a feather was floating over me.

2. After I told her I just ran the marathon and my legs and hips and back were in most need of massage, she still decided to follow her stupid routine.
Uh, lady - my arms really do not need ten minutes each and the last fifteen minutes that you spent on my scalp was a bit excessive, don't u think.

3. They told me after the massage that 18 friggin' % gratuity was added to the already astronomical price.

When I did a double take and said,
"huh, 18% gratuity is added???"

the receptionist said,
"oh yes, but you could give her more if you want to."

HELL NO!!!

The only good that came from that massage is that I fell asleep.

You can ask my husband, if Orah is pissed about spending money on a spa massage, then YOU KNOW that massage SUCKED!!!

After the massage I realized I was walking worse than before the massage and my legs were so sore, especially my right hip and glutes area.

I went back to my room and Bam was napping and Hun was laptopping so I took a book and went to the lobby. Only, the Eden Roc does not really have a "lobby" per se. It is actually a bar. And really annoying music plays in this lobby/bar. And at this time of night, a waitress is rearranging the furniture for the nighttime influx of idiots who should really go find a better bar. And then the lights dimmed and I could no longer see my book. And I was getting really hungry, because, funny thing, I ran 13.1 miles and had nothing since than, other than half a granola bar, a baked potato and half a hot dog and a bite of raw meat.

So I went back to my room, hoping Bam was awake and he was not. It also began pouring at this point and I no longer felt the need to go out to eat with the baby when I could just send Hun out into a small Hurricane. I also needed Hun to buy some zip lock bags so I could ice myself.

Hun went to retrieve food (poor thing) and my bags and I think I inhaled the food before he made it all the way in the door. He graciously filled my bags with ice from the hotel ice machine and I had about 6 bags of ice all over me and under me. And after icing and getting cold all over again, I decided to take another hot bath while praying that the pain would go away.

I was worried that I would wake up feeling worse the next morning, but it actually was much better. Which is good, because my plan to have a really lovely, last day in Miami went to hell, so at least I could justify staying another day by the sheer fact that I could not have physically walked through the airport the day before.

It was raining that morning, but the sun came out and it looked hopeful. We were planning on swimming at some point, so I packed but left all swim items and extra clothing in an easily accessible bag, being that we had to check out. Our flight was not until 7PM.

We had been trying all weekend to see Hun's Grandparents (he saw them on Friday but it was not great timing, and I was not with him).

Try getting together with two lovely 90 something year olds (K"H)
It's too early
It's too late
It's too hot
It's too cold
It's too far
I'm waiting for the mail to come.......

They were originally going to hang at the pool with us like they did last year, but ..... the rain.

We went to "Tasti De-lite" Cafe, which we did many times the previous year.

I will just say this. I love, love, love their food, but the place is tiny. They have outdoor seating, and when we arrived, Hun's Grandparents already had tables under umbrellas all dried off and ready for us (the rain had stopped at this point) so I had to sit there.

Our food was not even out yet and it began to rain again, although the rain was light and the Umbrellas did a great job at keeping us completely dry and out of harm. There was no place to sit inside anyway.

The drinks came and the rain began to pick up, and then the wind.

Now Hun and his Grandfather were sitting against the cafe wall, but my back was open to the elements and the wind began to cause the rain to hit my back. And it was starting to come down hard.

We actually had to go inside for cover, but when I say tiny, I mean TINY. Not only was there no where to sit, there was no where to stand.

They apparently have a small upstairs as well and we were told that a table for four was being cleaned up. I was all ready to go upstairs, but then we asked how many steps there were.

21!

And Hun's Grandparents were not about to climb 21 steps.

So I asked one owner if he could politely ask the table of four young people who did not have food yet, only drinks if they would be willing to move upstairs.

The owner said he would ask, but only when the table was all clean and ready.

Well he disappeared and the table was ready and the other owner refused to ask them.

SO I DID!

It was a young guy and woman (maybe in their later 30's). They had two teenagers with them. I assumed they were one family, but I have no idea. But they all looked young enough to climb 21 steps.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to be a bother, but is there any way you would be willing to take a freshly clean table for four upstairs? I would have no problem going up, but my Grandparents can not climb the steps."

The woman looked at me like she was about to say yes, and then she looked across at the guy, and then he looked at me like I asked him to run 13.1 miles for an amazing cause.

He responded,
"I'll tell you what, why don't I give you one of our tables (a table that fits 2) and you can all gather around it?"

"Oh really, you want to move this table for 2 over into the tiny aisle that goes from the door to the back of the cafe and have two 90 year olds and my husband, myself AND a stroller with a baby in it gather around it?"

He looked at me and finally realized he was a SHIThead, but then he didn't really care.

So I responded,

"Never mind, I can see it would be a BURDEN for you"

The woman actually looked like she was sorry. She gave a look like she had to leave it to him to make the decision.

I was curious and asked where she was from.

They were from Baltimore, but she was originally from Chicago.

Well this just got interesting...

She told me her maiden name, and that her parents lived in a certain Condo building that I was familiar with, but I could not place her name.

Then she told me her sister is a principal at a specific day school, and then I knew exactly who she was.

And because her husband, or whoever he was did not already have enough lack of care and consideration, he said,

"Mrs. W. (the principal) would have gone upstairs for you."

And then he began laughing.

And then I asked him,
"Where are you from originally"

"New Jersey."

Well that about sums that up.

So I coughed into my hand, "cough - shithead - cough".

And the rain had died down and some guy re-wiped our table and we went outside for another try.

And then the rain began again and kicked our asses this time and we went back in, just as shithead was leaving (they never even got food, just drinks). At this point, as he let the door swing closed on me and the soaking wet stroller with the baby in it, he said,
"you can have our table now".

Thanks for nothing $%%$ *&@#$@ (*&^%!!!!

And then the flooding began.

We got in just in time, while shithead had to walk a block in the rain without rain gear to retrieve his car.

But then he is not too bright.

When we left, I was bright enough to make rain coats out of huge garbage bags from the cafe for everyone to wear. Because I am caring and considerate.

And when I say flooding, I mean flooding. Some guy walked into the cafe with his pants rolled up and his shoes in his hands. And because of the very intimate setting in the cafe, we all got to admire his feet.

We left and drove Hun's Grandparents home, and then we decided to take a boat ride.

Remember, the unexpected, free upgrade we got from a full sized car, to a minivan?

Well thank G-d we did have the minivan. If I only captured video of the motorcycles and mopeds we saw maneuvering these streets...

And we could hardly see where we were going because the "defogger" was not working in the van.

We returned to the hotel, and the rain was now consistent. By this time we had to rearrange our luggage and actually head out and return the car. So much for our last day in Miami. At least we got a fabulous dining experience and a boat ride out of it.

We arrived at the car return shortly after 5 PM.

Remember the "warning" I received, that I would be charged a percentage of another day if I did not return the car at 3:30 (the time I picked it up). I was about to negotiate over that, or just adamantly refuse to pay it. But the guy who took the car back, pre-empted me by telling me that he was supposed to charge me because the car was not there at 3:30, but he would waive that fee.

I think they can smell my negotiating tactics on me and just give it to me without the hassle.

So I also added,

"and the defogger was not working all day and we couldn't see out the window."

"No problem, I'll remove 15 bucks for that."

The car that I reserved via "Hotwire" for an original total price of 120.00 for the entire 5 day weekend, ended up costing 60.00 dollars. HALF THE PRICE!!!

The flight home was pretty uneventful .... well, except for one moment.

I was not allowed to get the stroller, gate tickets until we were boarding. We were the last seats on the plane, so we were in group 1 to board. As soon as I removed Bam from the stroller, just before boarding, I could smell it.

Oh, and then I could see it.

All down his leg and up his back.

So I carried him across my arms on his belly like I was playing that airplane game with him all the way down the aisle of the longest plane ever.

I took the ~~closet~~ bathroom in the back before take off and had to practically give him a bath in the basin (that they tell you to wipe down in consideration for the next person - hopefully I did not leave anything behind).

I could hear the flight attendant on the phone outside, probably talking to the captain, that she was just waiting on one passenger who was in the bathroom cleaning up a baby.

So Bam's explosion held up the plane, but like I said in a previous post, bombs in the nether region on planes might do that.

And we were off to Chicago.

This Race Is L - I - C - K - E - D !!!!

2010-02-15T16:39:00.032-06:00

Sleep escaped me. I mean, Bam coughing (oh did I mention the obnoxious cough he came down with in Miami) and Hun's snoring aside, I just could not get a good night's sleep.

I set my phone to go off at 3:45, but of course I was already awake before then. By the way, to the makers of LG phones - do you have to make the LCD screens so friggin' bright. I swear my eyeballs were burning.

I got my running gear on and makeup. Oh, yes, I put on makeup before a 13.1 mile run. I mean, how crappy do I have to look? Truth be told though, I probably looked worse with the makeup, seeing as I put it on in the dark. I did not want to wake Hun and Bam, because I am a kind and considerate wife and mother. So I also got down on the extremely cold tile floor near the bathroom area (away from the carpeted sleeping quarters) to do my stretching, so as not to wake the family. That woke the rest of me up as soon as I sat down.

I double checked that all the baby gear and formula and clothing was all in place for Bam, as Hun was to get him ready at 6 something and get to the spectator shuttle by 7:30. I would already be running by then.

I ate a banana and a granola bar and drank a full 16 oz bottle of water as I waited in the lobby with the other members of "Team Lifeline" just before 4:30 when we would board the shuttle to the start line.

A whole bunch of us Chicago to Miami marathoners at 4:30 AM
Don't we look bright eyed and bushy tailed?

My feelings at this point, and pretty much all the way through the end of the race, were neutral. I can't really explain it. I was not nervous. I was not overly excited. I was not scared. I was not anxious. I just ...... was.

I embarked the shuttle and arrived outside the arena and walked casually along with my friend Rayli as if I was going ..... anywhere. I could have been walking into a mall, or a concert, it did not matter what exactly I was about to do, there was no noticeable emotion to make any distinction to me between running a half marathon and walking upstairs to take a shower.

We exited the shuttle and noticed all the lines in front of porta potties and then we came up with the brilliant idea to run across the street to the "Holiday Inn" and use a proper, working, flushable toilet. And obviously many before us had the same idea because that bathroom stench was just the same as a porta potty. But at least I did not have to worry about accidentally glancing down a hole and seeing way more than I needed to.

I went with Rayli to check in her gear (which was nice of me, considering I specifically brought nothing with me because I did not want to spend time at gear check) and then we had to find our starting corrals.

We went looking for corral "J" but saw no one else from "Team Lifeline" and then finally noticed the entire team at the start line. A picture of the entire team was about to be taken and we showed up just in time to be hardly seen on the far right end, but we are in the shot nonetheless.

If you look all the way to your left and find the black and white "White Sox" hat, then you have found me. It's like playing "Where's Waldo"...

So

So after this shot was taken we broke off and went off to our pre-determined starting corrals (which meant really going to the pre-determined corral of a friend who was one letter ahead of me) and we waited.

We waited for someone to sing the national anthem, we waited through hype and a whole lot of yelling and cheering. And we waited as random beach balls were thrown around and more specifically, I waited for one huge beach ball to whack me in the head and snap my neck back, which is like my "Achilles". I mean seriously, I had no idea how much pain a huge, oversize beach ball could cause to the weakest spot on my body. Did I need to get taken out before the race even started?

At 6:15 some smoke shot out of the starting line and some confetti fell and whoever was at the edge of the start line was now crossing it. It took almost 20 more minutes until those of us from corral "J" were crossing the start line and then it took way more time for me to be able to run without stepping on the heels of hundreds of other runners.

The humidity was ghastly. It was not a factor I could prepare for. I had been training in 32 degree extremely dry weather. I was running over two hours straight without the need to stop for any water. But the humidity took me out before the race even began. I also had to somehow become an expert at the art of weaving in and out of people, another factor that did not exist during training. I stopped (meaning, slowed down, not actually stopping) at every water station and grabbed two cups of water. One I drank and one I poured over me, many times directly in my face. Did you ever abruptly throw water in your face. It causes you to immediately shut your airway from the water and then gasp a deep breath and it would totally wake me up and invigorate me.

The problem came at mile 4. The sun was up and the humidity had dispersed, the air was cool and now there was even a crisp breeze. But, due to all the water I had been throwing on myself, I suddenly felt cold and as if I had the chills, like fluish. But I was immediately distracted from my chills by the extremely "flamboyant" spectators in this part of town. Let's just say, I would not be able to guess the average female to male ratio in this part of town because there was much gender confusion.

And on I ran.

I did not feel pain in any specific part of my body. I did not feel cramping. I did notice that every time I slowed down at a water station, my knees felt stiff in that small moment that I began to pick up speed again. I never once stopped at a porta potty.

In Chicago, I averaged between 11-12 minute miles. I was not certain that I was still at that pace at miles 7 and 8. Whoever said Miami was completely flat, totally lied. We had to cross many small bridges. I was slow going up and tried to make up for it coming down, but I know I also lost time because the bridges were grated and it was a really awkward feeling on the feet to run over the grated area.

At mile 10, the father of Koppie (the boy, in whose memory I was running) and I spotted each other. He was a spectator and his wife was walking the race somewhere behind me. But I slowed down for some picture taking...

Yup! That's me at mile 10. And I am still smiling.

And on I ran.

I have to say, I pretty much ran the entire way. I think I walked for a minute, a total of three times , somewhere between miles 9 and 11 just so I could re motivate myself.

But when I saw Hun and Bam somewhere after mile 12, just before mile 13 (after stopping again for a photo op) I was completely reinvigorated, just in time for my last mile plus.

Hi Hun!!!

And then I entered this area called "The mile 13 chute".

It was like running under an inflatable arch all the way to the finish line.

I DID IT!!!!

I crossed that finish line and I was still standing.

Okay, so my time totally and utterly sucked.

My main goal was to finish under the official allotted time of 3 hours,
which I did.

I was not expecting better than 2:45 because I knew that I never pushed myself past a pace of 5.3.

I knew my friend Rayli who usually ran at a pace of 6.0 would totally beat me.

I came in at about 2:53 chip time (the time from crossing the start line to crossing the finish line), 17 tragic minutes after my friend Rayli.

But, I was the second to cross the line out of all the Chicago members of "Team Lifeline". And there were still thousands of people who came in after me.

And now I have a time to beat.

(It's just slightly pathetic when at the same time you are finishing a half marathon, there are also those that are finishing the full marathon .... just saying.)

I got myself a medal and went off to find the "Team Lifeline" tent.

All I had at the tent was half a granola bar and just a few sips of Powerade and still had no need for a bathroom. ..... because all my fluid found its way to my face and fingers. My hands were so swollen from fluid retention, I never even had fingers that size in any of my pregnancies.

And I went off to look for Rayli, and to my dismay, she was slightly "weathered" after the race. So I decided to get into nurse mode and help her out (help her now, make fun of her later).

I was very happy we did not have to peel her off the pavement, just had to pick her up off the grass.

After we revived her with some ice to the neck, Hun, Bam, and I walked with her to get her gear, so that we could then walk seven more blocks to get to the shuttle back to the hotel.

The irony-
we just WILLINGLY completed a 13.1 mile run and now we were reluctantly dragging ourselves seven more blocks to catch our ride home .

AND SHE'S UP!!!
(I know Rayli, but if we can't laugh now, when can we laugh?)

So, I am officially a half marathoner. My kids can talk about me one day when I am old and wrinkly and say,

"Remember when Ma was in her prime and she was able to run 13.1 miles .... who wants the medal when she croaks???"

I am so ready to do this again.

In The Meantime, Lick This

2010-02-12T01:40:00.008-06:00

Sorry!

I owe you all the final lick.

But race day will have to wait

(hopefully by Monday)

because I have been working on this -

My sweet Ro has turned 6, and she is having the most awesome birthday party this weekend.

I have managed to put together something that did not cause me heart palpitations and will not stress me out. So with the energy not expended, I made a cake.

And if you can tell who the character is, depicted, then my cake is....

....GOOD ENOUGH!!!

But more on this fine piece of art (ahem, ahem) after the weekend, as well.

Friday Is Licked And So Is Saturday, Just One More Lick Away

2010-02-08T22:15:00.019-06:00

Friday morning was all about me sleeping late. Bam was accommodating. My three kids who were almost 1200 miles away were MORE than accommodating ............. just by NOT being there.

I had no one to get up and make sure they were dressed, fed, with teeth and hair brushed, in cold weather gear, waiting at the door without killing someone or breaking something by 8 AM. Those few extra hours in the morning, I believe is what they refer to as ...

...VACACIONES

(which is actually how it's said in Miami where more people speak Spanish per Capita)

It was also heavenly bliss.

When Bam woke up, my lovely Hun took care of him while I ironed Hun's brand new "wrinkle free" white dress shirts.

(why do they call those things wrinkle free?)

Then we ate breakfast on our balcony, overlooking this -

Then I turned around and had another most beautiful view -

He loved rolling around on the floor near the open balcony door with fresh Ocean breezes kissing his nose and tickling his toes.

(HE TOLD ME SO!)

At about 11 AM, Hun, Bam and I went off to the pool where we sat and gabbed with some friends.

And then Hun went off to make that conference call. The one he said he needed to make at 12:30, and it would only take 15 minutes.

45 minutes later, my supposed food source (Hun, that is) was still MIA and I was HUNGRY LIKE A WOLF.

It took him another hour to get to the pizza place, get the CORRECT order and get back to the pool, at which time I seriously stuffed my face.

And alas, we were nearing Sundown, which means the Sabbath was upon us. So I headed to my rain shower which as of now, only exists in Vacaciones Heaven, and I had a nice hot one.

Hun was actually with Bam, visiting his Grandparents. Another "conference" that he was sure would only take 30 minutes. But traffic and needy Grandparents make it more like, an hour and 15. And if you don't know about Hun by now, he has no concept of time and space.

Because I was dressed with hair blown straight (why I bothered in a City that has the highest humidity level ever, I don't know) it was up to Hun to get Bam bathed, and the simplest way to do that was to take him under that glorious "rain" shower.

I had no idea how Bam would react, he has never showered before. I thought that water cascading over his head continuously might cause him to erupt in tears, but I was wrong.

He looooooooooooooved that "rain" shower just as much as his Mommy did. And his plump ASSets, looked so cute hanging over Hun's arm. It's just a damn shame that it would have been highly inappropriate for me to take a picture.

Sabbath is all about rest and relaxation and the camaraderie that was the "Team Lifeline" gathering during meals and hang time.

In the early afternoon, Saturday, I spent time by the pool with friends talking about such things that included words such as,
"Laser"
"Weed whacking"
"Brazilian"

I will just end this by saying, it's a good thing that Hun was NOT within earshot.

I took a late nap and woke up just in time for the Sabbath to end at 7 PM.

At 8 PM, we all got together in the dining room for a Pre-race pasta party.

We were egged on by VERY LOUD cowbells.

We were stirred up by words from families who benefit from "Chai Lifeline's" services.

We were motivated by words from our Token professional marathoner and "Team Lifeline" on hand trainer - Toby Tanser.

He pretty much told us it was going to be 90% humidity during the run and we should drink.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY - HUMIDITY!!! Just what I trained for in 32 degree, VERY DRY, weather in Chicago for 12 weeks.

The camaraderie was amaaaazing.

The pasta ....

....eh, NOT SO MUCH!

(I did not then go back to my room and eat cold pizza leftover from Friday... Mmmm, Mmmm, not me.)

A Chicago Contingency at the pasta party.

Hi Rayli!

That would be a swarm of people around the pasta table.

I actually felt a migraine coming on. I wonder if it had something to do with the cowbells.

So I took myself two Tylenol and high tailed it off to bed. I had to ATTEMPT to get some sleep, RACE DAY is upon us at 4 AM.

One more "lick" my friends, and all my work and training will culminate in just a few hours.

How Many "Licks" Does It Take To Get To The "Center" Of The Mrathon

2010-02-04T11:10:00.025-06:00

This is the hour in which I would be running, but alas, it seems I now have some time on my hands. So what excuse do I have not to blog?

A week ago, at this time, I was on an airplane with my husband and Bam flying to Miami. Also on the same plane - my friend Rayli.

I was on my way for a weekend of inspiration and camaraderie with about 250 people all running on behalf of an organization called "Chai Lifeline" in the ING Miami Marathons.

(Chai Lifeline is an organization that provides a plethora of services to sick and disabled children and their families...)

We arrived in Miami after 2 PM and invited Rayli to continue with us to the car rental since we were all going to the same hotel for the weekend.

Getting the car took an eternity because a line of 6 people were waiting for one employee. This was seriously cutting into my pool and beach time, but what was I to do. Rayli was hanging out with Bam outside in the fresh air while Hun and I were signing our lives away for a car. I got a great deal on "Hotwire" for a full size car from Thursday until Monday. The total would be 120.00 for 5 days. Of course, then we got a "Triple A" discount bringing the total down to 115.00, which broken down is roughly 23.00 a day (it was 16.00 a day and this price includes taxes and other crap). Then they tried to sell us the extra insurance (which if you don't know by now is a total scam, because your own car insurance is good enough), but I was curious how much. 19.00 a day??? That's more than the rental.

Anyway, we went outside to get our car, and I was only slightly nervous that after offering Rayli a ride, would we be able to get the luggage and baby stroller in the full sized car with Rayli? We might have to put Rayli on the roof, but we shall manage. But just then, we were offered a free upgrade (the word upgrade is all relative) because the recent Toyota recall had diminished their car collection and no full size cars were available. So we got ourselves a sweet............

Minivan!

A Toyota Sienna, to be more specific, which is great because that is what I drive at home and who doesn't want to keep driving a "Mom" car on vacay in Florida, even though they left 3 out of 4 kids home in Chicago? But now Rayli had a secure seat inside and the Toyota Sienna would be helpful later as well, but that story comes after the race.

It was now after 3:30 (I know this, because we were also informed that if our car was returned at 3:30 on Monday as opposed to our planned - 5 PM, we would not be charged a percentage of another day .... whatever, that won't happen)

We arrived at the hotel about 4 pm to check in.

Hun was parking the car after the luggage was unloaded and I waited online behind Rayli to check in.

Rayli asked the really hot Latin looking hotel employee if her room had a King? It did not. He asked her if she wanted to wait so he can find one with a King, but she opted to get to the room, and off she went.

When it was my turn with Miguel, yes, I called him by his first name, because I wanted me a sweet room, I asked if I had a King bed. He told me I did not. I asked him if he would look for one because I did not want two beds and a crib taking up an entire room. I also asked if I could get a room in the newly renovated "Ocean Tower" overlooking the Ocean (which would normally cost extra, but we had a group rate - so I figured, I'd try). I also asked him where he was from and told him I really liked his ~~HOT AS HELL~~ accent. Yes - I was totally flirting.

If you must know, Miguel is from Portugal. He then asked me if I was from the States?

"Yes."

"You should go to Spain, Portugal and Italy."

Just then, Hun showed up and I turned to Hun and said,

"Miguel says we should go to Spain, Portugal and Italy. Let's get on that right away."

Miguel had to check 3 different floors, but he found it. I got me a sweet room in the "Ocean Tower", King bed and huge balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. I also asked him to please have a crib sent up to our room.

Hun and I had absolutely nothing to eat all day. I usually have sandwiches and fruit in my carry on but for some reason, we were rushing and neither of us ate all day. We spent the next hour unpacking a bit, freshening up and figuring out where to get some GOOD food. When we were ready to leave, the crib had still not arrived, so I called down to request it again. At the same time, after exploring my hotel room and noticing there was no refrigeration (even a mini bar - however there was an empty cabinet that was obviously supposed to house the minibar) I needed to request that as well. I already knew that the hotel charges for refrigerators, but I am Orah - and I do my best to get out of paying for things that should not require payment. I was also armed with the knowledge that all my friends in the other tower had refrigerators in their room already that they were not paying for.

I called down and spoke to Dominique (she was no Miguel, so I just had to be matter of fact with her).

"Hi, Dominique, I requested a crib and it has not arrived yet."

"Oh, I will make sure that comes up as soon as possible."

"Oh, thank you so much, I appreciate that Dominique."

"Anything else I can do for you today Mrs. F.?"

"Actually, I noticed the empty cabinet that should have a fridge and my friend in the other tower has a fridge and I could really use one."

"Well we can have one brought up, but just so you know, a fridge is $15.00 a day for the first 3 days and then no charge."

(a fridge is almost as much as my car rental. Unless I can drive a fridge, uh .... big fat no to that price.)

"Well Dominique, I have a baby and things such as formula and baby food that requires refrigeration, and I would really appreciate if you could waive that fee for me."

"Uh, okay ... I will waive the fee, but just so you know, for future reference, a fridge is $15.00 a day for the first 3 days then no charge."

(Yes - I heard you the first time, overpriced, nickel and diming hotel employee)

"Well thank you Dominique, I appreciate it."

Free car upgrade - check

Free room upgrade - check

Free refrigerator - check

Do you think I could get a really good meal for free? Hmmm, we shall see.

We went to "Grill Time"

YUUUUMMMMMMEEEEEE!!

However, I did not take into account when we arrived, that some schools were still on Winter break and I might need reservations. When we arrived, I was asked if we had reservations, the place was packed from wall to wall and people were waiting for tables. So with a growling stomach and lump in my throat, I answered,

"No."

"I am sorry, there is no way I can seat you."

(put on the charm Orah.)

"Is there anything we can do about this, we just arrived from Chicago and have not eaten all day and drove all the way here from the "Eden Roc", maybe we can figure something out???"

"Well, if you want to eat at the bar - you can do that..."

Hell yeah I'll eat at the bar. It was just the two of us and Bam. We had a lovely, and might I add, romantic corner where Bam sat in his stroller happily and Hun and I dined with the same great service as anyone at the tables. In fact, the manager felt bad for us and offered us our choice of complimentary glasses of white or red wine. I took white! We also got free dessert - so I guess I can get free food as well. At least some free food.

Notice my huge glass of FREE wine. Oh, and the diet coke was also free.

And the company - PRICELESS!

I can still taste that meal, it was so yum.

We left the restaurant and spotted the oddest scene in the next parking lot. Two bulky, biker looking guys were feeding approximately 20 stray cats and also three raccoons. So of course I made Hun pull over so I could get out and take a picture.

When I pulled out my camera, one of the biker guys said,

"you can take all the pictures you want of the cats, just none of me."

Of course, that statement had my mind making up all sorts of stories about this guy and what he might be hiding from.

Of course, this one picture I have (stupid FULL memory card) does not even capture the scene. There were another 20 cats off to the side eating at the obviously, exclusive "Feline" party. And these 3 raccoons could not get into the "VIC" section (that's Very Important Cat - for those who could not figure it out). They just looked a little pathetic and desperate, and eerie with those nocturnal glowing eyes.

We continued on to "Publix" for some essential weekend groceries and returned to the hotel.

I was a bit miffed at the fact that my baby was now asleep (after he unloaded something so nasty that needed to be changed in the back of the van in the Publix lot (another reason the van and its folded down back seats came in handy), and yet there was still no crib in the room four hours after I initially requested it.

So I made a little phone call.

"Hello Mrs. F. this is Dominique, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I need to put my baby to sleep, but it seems no one has delivered the crib that I asked for while we were out for the past three hours."

"Well, when was that requested?"

"Four hours ago, when I checked in .... oh, and then again an hour later before we left for supper."

"Well I will have someone bring that up now."

"Thank you."

For nothing, wench.

So we waited, and in the meantime, noticed a message left on the hotel phone.

It was from "Audrey" at the front desk. She wanted to know if we received the fridge and THE CRIB."

After another 20 minutes and still no crib, I called down again.

"Hello Mrs. F. this is Dominique, how may I help you?"

"Dominique, my baby really needs a crib and this has been taking a long time."

"Oh, Mrs. F. our runner is very busy and there are other people waiting for things before you."

"Uh, Dominique, you may refer to people who have requested things in the last 20 minutes or hour, but I am waiting for a crib I requested at 4 PM and it is now 8:20 PM and if it takes your "runner" over 4 hours to get every one their requests and needs met, than I think you need to have a little talkie talk with your "runner"."

"Well, who did you put the request in with?"

"When I checked in, and then actually, I believe with you, and I know the request was put in because someone named Audrey left a message on our phone asking if we received the fridge and THE CRIB, a loong time ago."

"I will call Audrey and get back to you."

"Please do that."

And 2 minutes later, my room phone rings.

"Hello Mrs. F. it's Dominique. I see that the order was put in, but for some reason it was closed. I don't know why that was. I am sorry for the inconvenience. Is there anything I can do to compensate for the inconvenience?"

"Uh ....."

YES! But I can think of so many things....

"How about I give you 25.00 dollars credit towards your stay?"

"o .... kay...."

"I also see you have an Internet charge today..."

(I totally thought I would be without Internet, but Hun needs to work...)

"Yes..."

"I went ahead and adjusted that charge for you."

"Thank you."

So, 25.00 back in my pocket, as well as another 15.00 for the Internet charge.

The crib was late, but not a bad day for upgrades, freebies and refunds.

Oh, and that rain shower, shower head in the bathroom, and really deep jacuzzi tub,

I LOVE YOU!!!

And that was day one in Miami, more or less.

Did you think I could possibly post it all in one day?

That's jut not the way I roll.

Just a few more "licks" to race day.

I'll Wave To You From The Sandy Shores Of Miami Beach!

2010-01-28T10:30:00.000-06:00

I certainly did not think a week would go by without any posting on my part, but life throws curve balls.

Besides preparing this past week for my trip today to Miami, I was thrown out of my excited mood when my brother called from Israel to tell me that my Dad, who was there visiting along with my Mom was in a hospital in B'nai Brak.

It's a long story, and I hope to post about it when I am back from Miami, but as for now, he is (thanks to the good Lord) fine, and back in Chicago. Which I am happy about on all points, but also because he and my mother are my babysitters this weekend. So here is to Dad's good health...

Then, I had to deal with Ate and his change in behavior lately.
A cold,
enlarged tonsils,
a visit to his Pediatrician,
an x-ray
a blood draw

all done on 3 separate days really threw off my prepared schedule.

But that too will have to be elaborated on later.

I need to make a meeting with So's principal about her Academic needs, because she is bored as hell and I can't take it anymore.

But that will have to wait as well.

My right hip has been funky since my 12 mile run, so I decided not to run this week before the race at all, which is just as well, because I probably ended up with no time left to do so anyway.

I think that was a good decision on my part, because my right hip finally feels better and the race is in 3 days.

Oh, did I mention I am running a half-marathon this Sunday in Miami?

When this posts, I will be on a plane (G-d please let travel go smoothly ;) to Miami with Hun and Bam.

Wish me luck.

Oh, and don't expect to hear from me - because the hotel I am privy to be staying at charges 15 friggin' dollars a day for Internet I can get FREE almost anywhere else.

Paranoia

2010-01-21T16:53:00.017-06:00

THIS IS NOT AN INCENDIARY DEVICE!!!

I REPEAT - NO NEED TO BE ALARMED BY THIS BIZARRE "DEVICE" AS IT CONTAINS NO EXPLOSIVES!!!

It makes me worry about what else people will confuse with potential threats to our traveling safety.

If you have not heard (mostly because you are smart and stay away from all news sources), the above is a picture of a Jewish Religious Article called Tefillin - or Phylactery.

(NOT - Olfactory, as one police officer tried to have us believe...)

There are two parts. One part is a box that sits just on top and center of the forehead with leather straps that hang. The other is a box that sits on top the upper bicep and its straps get wrapped around the rest of the arm on down and weave through the fingers.

Inside the boxes there are specific prayers written on parchment. The Tefillin are worn by men as they pray every weekday morning.

I will not link to any one site that will explain them further - but feel free to join the thousands who have made the words "Tefillin" and "Phylactery" the most popular web searches in just the past few hours.

Now I can move on to the point of this post...

I am traveling on a plane in just 7 days and I do not want problems. Flying has gotten so awful, I am considering putting myself on the "No Fly" list.

After the underwear dude - I traveled and required a pat down of my head because I refused to remove my head covering which funny enough - is also a Religious "DEVICE".

The new protocol was to include making it a requirement to store all things in the overhead bin an hour before landing - nothing was to be allowed on your lap or in reach. This caused my never before mentioned nightmare, where I was greeted by a flight attendant who looked like Ellen DeGeneres and was told to store my "lap" child in the overhead compartment for landing. I was confused about whether or not this was a joke, as the instructions were delivered by a flight attendant who looked much like a comedian. But I was quickly made aware of its seriousness when Ellen DeGeneres suddenly turned into Simon Cowell. And so, I put Bam in the overhead bin.

You know - if my baby poops his diaper on the plane, that is now considered a flammable material hidden in the nether regions and then how different is he from the Nigerian dude?

I hope no one has to change their colostomy bag while in the air ... that would lead to all sorts of problems.

I am traveling in a week because I am planning on running a half marathon in Miami. It was suggested - to all of us who need to travel to Miami, to carry all our running gear in a carry - on on board, you know, because airlines are totally unreliable and they lose your crap all the time.

But I am worried that some flight attendant who has diminished brain cells due to sudden change in cabin pressure will just assume I am up to no good and brought my running shoes to make a quick getaway.

Yes!

A quick getaway......

.....from a plane flying 32,000 feet up in the air.

My point is, are we now, and forever going to be traveling in a state of paranoia?

Will we all be getting on planes (those of us who still do that much) and quickly start assessing our fellow passengers? I mean, the U.S. Home Security and TSA may refuse to "ACTUALLY" profile, but I'll be profiling.

If you have a bulge in your nether regions - I may ask the flight attendant to assess that situation.

Sorry that it's all messed up for any one named - Mohammed, or Achmad, or Timothy McVeigh, but if that IS your name, and you were allowed on my plane, I hope you are fully restrained and being escorted by armed U.S. Marshals.

(And maybe that above statement is controversial, but you know I am not the only one who tenses up on a plane when there are certain, someone's sitting in your line of view.)

If you take out something that has funny leather straps hanging from it .... well .... my mind may wander into all sorts of areas - especially if you and that curvy redhead went into the bathroom with it and there is substantial yelling and banging around... But I won't involve myself in that one.

If the only English word you can say is "BOMB", then I will be thankful that I spent ten minutes assessing which of my personal belongings can be used as a self- defending weapon.

(Another reason why 4 inch Stilettos can make you into a superhero.)

Also, that laptop cord they let me bring on the plane WILL find its way around the neck of whoever is the least bit threatening to my fellow passengers and myself.

But if a 17 year old is wrapping himself with boxes and leather straps ....

...OK, fine, I can see how that might have been confusing to an overtired, overworked, and underpaid flight attendant,

but I can assure you, he was NOT hiding it in his underwear. And that means - it went through a Security check and x-ray, just like my friggin' shoes did.

Oh the paranoia - will it ever end?

"Avatar"? Uh, More Like "AVOMITAR".

2010-01-18T14:58:00.011-06:00

I saw this movie Saturday night, called "Avomitar". Some of you may know it by it's more recognizable street name - "Avatar". But, ~~those of us who saw the 3D version while sitting in the second row and got totally nauseous and vomited~~ I will refer to it as "Avomitar".

I actually had no interest in seeing this movie altogether. But as a friend of mine pointed out to me, I tend to get turned off by movies that have a lot of hype before they even come out. I hated "Titanic" as well, for this reason. Is it coincidence that both movies were directed by James Cameron? I think not. Unless the guy has a series of movies about an assassinating robot from another planet or he spends over 500 million to make a movie, there would be no hype, and their would be no Golden Globes.

Have you seen "Avomitar"?

I have never been on acid, but, watching giant blue beings and fluorescent glowing botany as well as dogs that have been lifting weights and a cross between hammerhead sharks and a dinosaur on steroids must come way close to a full on acid trip. Now add to that 3D, and it becomes a BAD acid trip.

My friend, Miss S. facebooked me on Wednesday and told me another friend - B. was going to see "Avatar" (before my experience - it was "Avatar"). She asked me if I wanted to come because Miss S's husband had already seen it with his sister. My husband had no interest either. I told her, if I was going to see it, then I had to see the 3D version because I heard "you haven't seen "Avatar" if you haven't seen it in 3D" (But from me, the motto will be "if you haven't seen "Avatar" - DON'T!")

Apparently, B. and her husband already tried weeks earlier to see the 3D version, but it was sold out, so this time she would buy the tickets ahead of time.

Background on B. - when the latest "Twilight" movie came out (also won't see those because I hate the vampire hype) - "New Moon" she bought tickets for the 12 AM showing for about 20 people. She arrived 3 hours before the movie and saved two rows in the theater (I have no idea how she physically managed to spread herself across 20 seats, but it must have been a sight.)

I fully expected that she would be in the theater by the time Miss S., another friend - T. and I arrived with her legs and arms stretched over the most prime seats, battling off theater goers with her best "Avomitar" savages' hiss. But she arrived the same time as we did, looking quite pissed. Her look of pissiness was due to the fact that she would have loved some prime seats as well and fully intended on throwing her whole body across half a row, if only the other couple she was picking up was READY on time, allowing her to arrive early enough.

So - that left the second row of the theater. Which, funny enough, turns out to be the FIRST row because no one in their right mind even attempted to watch "Avomitar" 3D sitting in the front row. That made us the stupidest people in that theater.

And what is more stupid than that? - Well, staying for an entire 3 hours of ung-dly torture - is what.

I will backtrack here, and share with you that Saturday night, I tend to make sure I EAT. Especially this particular Saturday night - because Sunday, I would be running 12 friggin' miles as part of training for a half marathon coming up in 2 weeks. I like to Carbo load with a mix of good carbs and really bad carbs. I had something to eat before I left the house and I stuffed my purse with peanut butter m&m's, baby carrots and water (I figured the peanut butter was also iron rich protein).

So there I was, sitting second row with funky glasses slipping down my nose and my head cranked back, throwing back a mound of baby carrots and handfuls of peanut butter m&m's, while giant blue people FEET were totally in my face and I am so NOT a foot person (although it could be the Podiatrist with us was getting excited). As time went on, I was getting really hot and kept adjusting my position to find comfort in that second row seat. I started feeling a migraine come on, but I have a sickness (besides the sickness I was about to experience). I have this sickness, once I start a movie (or a book) no matter how awful it might be, I must finish it.

CURSE THE FACT THAT I STARTED THIS MOVIE....

I had to subject myself to the brutality (not the brutality actually IN the movie), the brutality of watching 3D in the second row.

And what was with the "braid mating"? (If you don't know what I mean - then you haven't seen "Avomitar" ....... AND DON'T!!!)

But as soon as the movie was over, I could not get out of there quick enough.......

.....I MEAN QUICK ENOUGH!!!

I was the center seat in the second row, and no one was moving. So I literally leaped over the very empty first row, and hightailed it out of the theater to get some air.

When Miss. S. and T. walked out, I am pretty sure that the color of my face was almost as blue as the "Blue People" of Planet Pandora, or as white as their sacred tree. My eyes felt like they were on fire and possibly hanging out of my eye sockets from their retina. My stomach was churning like I was on Cameron's friggin' Titanic.

My friend T. decided to use my look of death to our advantage. So she walked up to "concierge"... (concierge? let's call it what it is, three twenty one year old college drop outs who need to contact the "Big Man" at the top who is vacationing in Cabo - to see if you should really get a refund) and she spoke about the awful movie and the guys behind us on their cell phone and then pointed to me and said, look it made her sick. I added in my two cents about allowing babies into the theater, to which Najeeb replied,
"we let in anyone, as long as they are with parents".

Really? So only the six month old babies who show up WITHOUT the parents, are denied entrance?

Anyway, Najeeb walked off and returned with three free admits in the form of a blue ticket. (Well, I am pretty sure it was blue, although everything at that point pretty much looked blue to me.) So I get to see a free movie at some point, which better be a good one so the vomit can be slightly worth something.

I got in Miss. S's car, at which point she basically threatened my life if I were to hurl in her car.

I made it home without causing her any undue hardship and collapsed on my couch, when my gracious Hun brought me 2 Tylenol caplets ....... which stayed down for about 4 and a half minutes, when I went running to the bathroom and .... well, let's just say that it was a good thing I did not have my 3D glasses on while leaning over the toilet. that would have been a sight.

So all the carbo loading for my big run the next day was kind of a moot point about now.

But you will be glad to know, "Avomitar" may have ruined my night, but it did not ruin my run the next day.

If that movie wins an Oscar, I will aVOMITar, all over again.

Heaven Is My Travel Companion

2010-01-11T19:47:00.010-06:00

Oh, the joys of traveling...

WITHOUT KIDS!

I have been busy since my last post, preparing to travel from one State to another State. And the State I am most focused on, is my STATE of mind.

It is a very pleasant state of mind, peaceful, calm, without anyone around to yell about who touched whose barbie and who "accidentally" swung their foot ~~purposefully~~ with due caution under the dinner table at someone elses body part.

I have only arrived less than 3 hours ago, and dare I say it, I am rather enjoying my little getaway.

I was expecting the worse, from the moment I left to the airport, thanks to one gracious man from Yemen, who thought lighting a match near his underwear would relieve his fellow passengers of the ung-dly stench that often permeates through airplane cabins. (Seriously - to the dude who dropped the stink bomb just as he was passing my seat when boarding the plane - underwear bombs now fall under the category of "TERROR ACTIVITY" so please stop, less I seek you out and turn your terrorist ASS (pun-intended) in. But, security ran pretty smoothly.

Well, I did require a pat-down of my cranium, because as an Orthodox Jewish Married Woman, I cover my hair with hats that are not permitted to be removed in public. (Should I tell them about all my Jewish friends as well as Cancer patients who are walking through without "pat downs" even though they are wearing a very natural hair-like wig???) Do you think they pat down those guy's heads, you know, those guys who think they are fooling everyone with their rat's hair toupees?

Anyway - thanks for the scalp massage, much appreciated.

My gate was conveniently just across from Starbucks, so thank you for that as well.

My dad was with me and is no spring chicken, so he gets himself on the plane before the suckas who payed for first class, and I get to go with him - thank you for that.

Thank you to the kind and considerate person who did not show up to sit in the seat next to me, I tip my hat to THAT person.

Thanks for the gentle sleep inducing flying motion of the plane, I did need a nap.

I am grateful, exceptionally grateful to the working landing gear and smooth landing at Newark airport.

AND BONUS ....

I do like the fact that we arrived an hour early. And if that was not awesome enough, we did not have to make up that whole EARLY hour by waiting an hour for a gate to become available, because the gate was just waiting for us in all its shining glory.

Uh ... I did think that someone forgot to tell our luggage we arrived an hour early. Either that, or we had to wait for the New Jersey Union workers - Tony, Franky and Tito, to put down their bongs and pizza and throw our luggage on the conveyor belt.

Oh, and I am thankful for my sister who came to pick me up, promptly after the luggage finally showed.

And to my Mom, who is also at my sisters house - that steak dinner was divine. Frankly, I would have enjoyed eating styrofoam sprinkled with pepper, if it meant eating it without tiny little food thieves stealing food right out of my mouth, and of course the aforementioned under table leg wrestling.

And to use a bathroom, without someone banging on the door two seconds after I get in there ..... it's like New Jersey has somehow become a little, tiny piece of Heaven. (And I don't think those words will ever come out of my mouth again.)

I'll be here until Wednesday. My cousin is getting married tomorrow night. And as pleasant as it has been going thus far (and please G-d, keep up the good work) there is only so much time without the kids, before I miss them terribly.

And here's hoping that time only comes when I see them again on Wednesday.

(And welcome to my new blog followers, hope you stick around.)

Sweet And Tender Ro

2010-01-05T16:52:00.019-06:00

{To "Stay At Home Wifey" - Thanks for becoming a follower, I tried to comment on your blog the other day, but it asks for word verification and something weird happens and it only shows me the top half of the word and does not allow me to scroll down. I see others leave comments, so I have no idea if the problem is from my end...}

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I was about to post about Ate and some recent "changes" he made in his life, but then I thought I might want to focus on another child.

I often blog about So and her creativity and her ability to make a sculpture of Abe Lincoln or something of the like, out of paper clips, dried corn kernels, hay and drier lint. She is the oldest and could easily overshadow her younger siblings .... if I let her.

I blog about the baby for obvious reasons. Because, frankly, he is the baby. That makes him cute and extremely blog worthy, even if all he does is roll around, laugh, giggle, eat, poop, babble and drool.

I blog about Ate and his, uh .... anal retention. He is also my FIRST boy, so all the "boy" stuff that has any blog value gets posted at some point in regards to him.

But there is one kid who falls into that unpleasant space in the family. She can get lost easily (partly because she is so tiny) in that big hole, that abyss that is reserved for, the sweet, angelic, can go off to the basement for hours occupying herself and only emerge when I realize she has not been seen for 4 hours, kid. I sometimes have to remind myself that she actually DOES exist. She can be quiet, but she has plenty of fire in her. And when she does emerge, from wherever she has been for the past 4 hours, she always has the most profound things to say. She is my Ro. And today I post about her.

Sweet Ro in the Summertime.

She ALWAYS smells good.

She has a tremendous sense of hygiene and always smells like lavender soap and watermelon shampoo.

Sweet Ro enjoying her just picked apple.

She has a tremendous spirit. She will always remind me to say the appropriate blessing before eating any food.

Sweet Ro on Chanukah

While her siblings went grabbing for the gifts below, Ro just stood back to watch the glow of the flames and the glistening lights as they flickered.

She has enormous sensitivity to the world and its "going ons" around her. She does not take any moment for granted.

She is observant and becomes enlightened by that which she sees or hears about as it relates to her own life.

Two weekends ago, we were at a "Youth" convention that we attend annually. On Sunday evening, there was a banquet for the teenagers and Ro was getting very involved in the activities that were taking place that night. At some point, an award ceremony began and I left my girls in the room to watch the ceremony, while I took Ate back to our room where Hun and Bam were already settling in for the night so that he too could go to sleep.

I returned to the award ceremony and let the girls sit there for another five minutes, at which point, it was time to return with them to the room for bedtime.

As we were leaving, Ro looked up at me and asked,

"Mommy, why does [G-d] make funny people?"

"What do you mean by funny people?"

(I was pretty sure I knew what she was referring to, but I inquired.)

"People who move in funny ways and talk funny..."

I noticed the direction she was looking and that verified for me, what she was trying to ask via her five and a half year old, innocent view of life.

There is a subgroup of teenagers within the Youth group that caters to disabled and challenged teenagers, and Ro wanted to know why G-d would afflict any child with those sorts of challenges and disabilities.

"Ro, we don't always know why [G-d] decides that a child should be born with challenges and disabilities, maybe we need to learn something important from it. But we always need to be kind and considerate to all children whether they are healthy or not."

And then Ro said,
"I know why, because we need to CARE. And I CARE about them and I think that is why they are here, so that we CARE."

Yesterday morning, I handed Ro the clothing I picked for her that morning and she started her semi-typical kvetch,

"I don't like those clothes...."

But then she stopped abruptly and took them from me and went off to get dressed.

About ten minutes later, while she was eating her breakfast, Ro asked,
"Mommy, you know why I did not cry about the clothes that you gave me, even though they were not the clothes I wanted?"

"Why, Ro?"

"Because, I thought, well at least I am lucky to have clothing because there are some children who have no clothes and they are always cold and naked, so I shouldn't complain."

Later that day, when she returned home from school, Ro asked for a sugary snack. I typically give them a snack after school, but I like them to have a fruit or veggie first. So I told Ro, she could have the snack after she ate a fruit.

She began to whine,
"I don't want a fruit now, can have the fruit later???"

She stopped abruptly and then got quiet and ran to the counter to grab a banana.

A moment later, she said,

"Mommy, you know why I did not cry about having a fruit before the yummy snack?"

"Hmm, Ro, I can not possibly imagine why you did not cry..."

"Because, I am lucky to have fruits AND snacks and there are some children that do not have food and that is so sad."

It's nice to know that my lessons and words can almost be repeated back to me verbetim. Who knew she was ever listening.

Well, I am not surprised. Ro actually takes every word and lesson in and then she keeps it locked up. She goes back to it when she wants and analyzes and dissects.

And when you least expect it, she pulls it out and pulls off the most sweet and tender moments.

My sweet and tender Ro.

Sweet Music And One Girl With A Tone

2010-01-04T11:08:00.006-06:00

What is sweet music to my ears?

The words - "Back to school".

The sounds of silence.

But also the sounds of one cute little dude babbling and chattering...

I had an interesting experience on Friday, and not in a good way.

Let me precede this post by saying, while I am not one who voluntarily seeks out confrontation, if someone messes with me ..... well, then, they have messed with the wrong person.

There are bullies and just plain rude people in this world who are very good at sniffing out vulnerable weak people to prey on. They like to pick a fight or cause a commotion that ultimately puts someone else down, just so they themselves can feel bigger and stronger. Those people are typically overcompensating for a lot of insecurity.

I am not a weak or vulnerable person, but apparently I was in the wrong place at the ~~right~~ wrong time.

At my local grocery store, there is an aisle specifically housing ONLY kosher products. This supermarket caters to a community of kosher keeping people and they are very accommodating. (Of course, every other aisle in the store has some kosher products as well, but this aisle is very specific food items).

At one end of this aisle is a wire rack that has bread, cakes and cookies from a local bakery I will call B.S. Next to that rack is another rack of breads, cookies and cakes from other local various kosher bakeries in the community.

I typically do not purchase any foods from these racks because I would rather get my baked goods fresh from the actual bakeries. However, when the yummy supermarket brand of non-dairy chocolate chip cookies were not available, I decided to pull a container of cookies from the B.S. rack.

So I was standing in front of the rack with my cart in front of me, and yes, the rack was blocked completely by my cart and myself. I just placed a container of cookies in my cart and was standing there for another second or two to see if I wanted anything else when a girl came up behind me in haste and was obviously interested in something on the rack. Even before she said excuse me, I realized I wanted nothing more and should move away to make room for someone else.

She came up right behind me and while saying excuse me, she was already reaching across the length of me and my cart close to the rack to get some bread. I would have liked to move away for her, but because she chose to stand behind me and not wait even one second, and there was an elderly man in front of me at the next rack of baked goods, I was actually blocked in. At that moment, the bread slipped from the tip of her fingers and fell between the rack and my cart (because it was too far from her in the first place and maybe she should have let me back out BEFORE she tried to get her bread). The man moved and I inched my way forward and she had to grab the bag of bread as it was falling to the floor and then I hear her say in a very obnoxious, loud, condescending tone,

"THANKS .... I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU MOVING FOR ME, THAT WAS SO NICE OF YOU .... YOU WERE REALLY HELPFUL ...."

She went on with this statement as she walked away, down an aisle full of people. At which point, I only had time to yell back - "You could learn some patience and respect."

When I realized that she was getting far, I stopped, because I am not ONE for causing a scene.

Now - this girl was petite, but her face did not look so young. I estimate she was anywhere between the ages of 18 and 23. This is certainly an age that I would not expect such rude behavior.

I did not know this girl (In our community, many times you know almost everyone. If not personally, at least what family they are from.) I don't even know if she is from my community, or just visiting. At that point, I was letting the incident go (that is what Mrs. M. taught me - to forget it and move on). And I just continued slowly down the aisle focusing on my shopping. But when I got closer to the end of the aisle, she was there and it looked like she was with someone I just decided to assume was her mother. And so - I then thought to myself,

Self - if you let this go completely, she will think her behavior is okay. And at her age, it most certainly is not. If I say something in a productive way, it may be a learning experience for her and open her eyes to how she is perceived by others. I also thought, if I behaved that way at her age and my mother knew - I would have tongue lashing via me madre.

In fact - I digress for a moment to shed some light on my mother. I had a weekend party in my house for my class to celebrate our 8th grade graduation. My mother took it upon herself to give us a bit of a lecture, because she knew we had been a factious class. She told us that it was very important that we all acted kindly to one another NOW because we have no idea how our lives would intertwine in the future, and how we may become related through marriages, or share office space... And if we had a history of contention it would make it hard to have a peaceful relationship in the future. She then left the house to be somewhere, and as soon as the door shut, twenty something 13 and 14 year olds erupted in laughter. We joked about how my brother would marry that friend and that friends mom would become someone else's mother-in-law. I mean, who can think that far ahead in life?

Well guess what???

Just a few years later, after quite a few of my classmates married, they would stop my mom in the street and say,
Mrs. S. - "So and so and I both married brothers and now we are sisters-in-law and I remember that speech you gave... So and so and I have become cousins. So and so and I have started a business together..."

Yes, my mom is bright, and insightful, and sometimes...... dare I even say it ..... RIGHT!

So, as I thought of my mother in that moment at the grocery store, I decided to go a different route.

I walked right up to the woman I assumed was this poor, misguided, young adult's mother, and I asked,

"Is that your daughter?"

(can of worms now open...)

"Well, I don't know how you raise your daughter, but you may want to teach her about not being rude, and disrespectful..."

Daughter hears me and walks over and, I am not making this up -

she starts apologizing...

BUT

and here is the big

BUT -

she is using the same obnoxious tone that she used before when she was walking away from me with her nasty comments.

"SHEESH ..... I'M SORRY.... I MADE A MISTAKE...."

At which point I interrupted her and said,
A) "Don't waive your finger in my face."
B) "Are your needs more important than anyone else's including an elderly man standing in front of me that you apparently want me to run over so you can get your bread?"

"I SAID I'M SORRY .... I DIDN'T SEE HIM..."

c) It really does not matter if you saw him or not, because if someone is moving too slow for your taste and you are not getting your bread quick enough - bite your tongue and keep it to yourself. On top of that you need to learn, patience, and respect - because you have no idea how your behavior could come back to you and take you down so hard. When you realize you are about to date the boy of the woman you were just rude to, or you realize you are about to be interviewed for a job by the stranger you just insulted. Grow up.

At this time ( due to my talent for "reading" people very well) I learned a few things.

The obvious - her apologizing meant that she knew her behavior was inappropriate.

She has a mother who is one of those, naive, lets her kids walk all over her, has no idea how to discipline, weak woman. I don't know her background from beans - but I would even dare guess that she comes from a family of critical parents and may even have a husband with a temper, and she just TOOK IT all her life. It was the way she just stood there while she could obviously HEAR the tone her daughter was using to someone older. And how she said nothing as her daughter literally got in my face and waived her fingers under my nose. (My mother would have been on me before the first words came out of my mouth).

Second, a husband with a temper or a critical husband (or a divorce) could also explain the very ill, rude behavior her daughter possessed.

(Of course, much of the aforementioned is TOTAL speculation on my part)

I just can't imagine, that a girl that age would be that rude and ill mannered to a complete stranger in such a public place, if there was NO back story. Of course, it does not excuse it. This daughter is very self-absorbed and only concerned with her needs. Those are traits that will certainly inhibit her from having a productive relationship or marriage of her own, if she does not grow out of it. I certainly would not set this girl up with anyone if I was asked and that is one way your behavior can affect where your life moves next.

I actually wished them a Good Sabbath (which was to begin in a few hours) and walked away. I have no idea if they spoke about it after that, but it certainly did not seem like her mother said anything to her, in the supermarket.

I mostly let it go after that. But I was still so boggled by a girl that age being so outright rude. And I still wondered if saying anything would actually be productive, or if I should have just left it completely alone. I guess I just went with my first instinct, which I felt fine about because it was not impulsive on my part, as some time lapsed between the incident and when I saw her at the end of the aisle.

I also spoke to my 7 year old and 6 year old about the incident, so they could learn that this sort of behavior is never appropriate. But when I looked at my 7 and 6 year old, I truly believed that even at their young ages, they would never act that way - especially to someone older than them.

It is still boggling my mind. I almost hope she had/has some serious brain injury to explain the situation, because I just can not wrap my head around it. Am I over thinking this? Do many people out there encounter girls around that age who are just so outright rude (Frum or not)? I have never encountered this before, so it was surprising for me. Ooh - I could also maybe justify SOME of it if I found out she was from N.Y. (No offense to my N.Y. readers).

Did I make the right decision in my actions???

2010

2009-12-31T23:20:00.001-06:00

HAPPY NEW YEARS

TO ALL

AND

TO ALL

A NEW YEAR!!!

Salutations

2009-12-24T21:40:00.002-06:00

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

TO ALL MY FRIENDS

WHO ARE CELEBRATING THIS WEEKEND!!!

I myself, am going with the family on a little getaway.

TTYL Y'all.

If Inflection Wasn't The Right Word, It Is Now

2009-12-21T15:43:00.013-06:00

I went to the mall today just to get some information at the Verizon store about when I am eligible for a new phone so I can buy that sweeeeeeeet looking "Droid".

Before I entered the building, I stopped short to adjust the strap on my purse over my shoulder and at that exact moment, a chunk of ice fell from the overhang and landed right in front of my toes.

This makes one go, hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

If I had not stopped in that exact split second to adjust my strap, surely that ice would have hit me in the head. That may not have been such a pleasant experience, I gather.

Yet, I continued on without more thought and went to find the Verizon store. I spent some time there wishing it was February (my earliest date of upgrade eligibility) while I mulled over that sweeeeeeeeeeet "Droid", that I don't TRULY need. Unless you take into account that the world is moving into IMMEDIATE wireless communication and so little human interaction, that without data plans at your side you would be lost pretty much anywhere, including your own house.

I stopped for a few minutes at one other store and then left the building the same way I entered. I was in the building for no more than 20 minutes. When I left, there was now yellow "caution" taped tied up all over the forward facing entrance of the mall, causing me to take a side door.

I think it hit me (no pun intended) more when I left the building, than it did when the ice actually dropped at my foot. This was obviously serious enough for the mall to take action and keep patrons safe. I mean, on the way in, it did not even occur to me to visit the mall office and report the falling ice, but thank G-d someone had more forethought than I.

When I got into my car, I just sat there for a moment. I thought about my husband's recent car accident, and just missing a hit on the noggin by falling ice and the fact that I am a seemingly healthy, breathing, walking human being who probably could not tell you where all my time has been going these past weeks, because to some degree, I like most people am living my life on "AUTO PILOT".

I feel like (and I will only speak for myself now) this technologically advancing world keeps me in this uncomfortable state of disconnection. My car gets me from point A to point B without much thought. My computer gets merchandise to my door without any direct human interaction required. I run with my Zune blasting readily available music and before I know it, I have run nine miles. I can compare and dissect different car features, prices, specifications and options BEFORE ever getting to the showroom. And when adjusting my purse strap is the only thing that prevents falling ice from impaling me, I walk right over the mess and head into a mall to look at a phone I barely need.

I used to be a person who prided myself on my clear and concise focus of everything around me. I was always an extremely insightful, introspective person and would never let an event like a serious car accident involving a beloved family member, just pass by without any personal inflection (I know that is not the correct usage of the word, but it makes more sense than reflection). And yet, lately, I feel like I have no time to inflect or reflect or do any kind of flection, because I just move on to the next thing in life - supper, laundry, dishes, this child's needs and that child's needs and all the STUFF - the STUFF that just clutters your life and your world .... literally and figuratively.

Am I alone in this? Am I the only one who feels I need SOMETHING to connect me back to this world in which I live? And sometimes, I think - those near misses, like car accidents and falling ice, those ARE the things that are supposed to open my eyes and reconnect me to this life I am living and my purpose in it. But I miss the calling, because it's a vicious cycle. This overstimulating world keeps me too busy to focus on my purpose, and then some crazy overstimulating event occurs to TRY to get me to focus on my purpose, but I can't because I have to get to my son's school to pick him up and on and on and on...

Now I am just rambling on like a crazy woman.

Now I get those, gurus and "whole health" Doctors that emphasize the importance of taking time, even just 15 minutes to go into a private space and "meditate" or "breath" and truly focus on your "breathing" and "meditation". How I miss even 15 minutes of available time. Who has 15 minutes? I am lucky if I can shut the bathroom door and count to more than 120 before someone is banging on it.

So if I would not have gone to the mall and spent 20 minutes at the Verizon store looking at a phone I hardly need, well then, I would have had 20 minutes to meditate and breathe. But then, if I did not go to the Verizon store to look at a phone I really, really want, I would not have had my eye opening encounter with falling ice. And frankly, this whole post is a testament to my current inflection, so all is good then. I guess I have reconnected after all.

And what have I learned???

Well,

Watch out for falling ice, that's for sure.

And,

Life is short, make the most out of it and focus on what is TRULY important.

It's Not About The Camry (But It Sort Of Is)

2009-12-16T11:36:00.011-06:00

pre-post message:

Anonymous commenter of my last post - I responded to you in the comment section of the last post.

Donna - I appreciate your input/compliment as well.

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Well, last night did not really go as planned.

Every Tuesday evening, So has gymnastics at a community center not too far from my house. I was fortunate to make a carpool with a friend. She takes So there, because Hun is not home when gymnastics begins, and this saves me from needing to load my car with 3 other non-compliant, overtired, children in noxious weather. Hun typically leaves work at 5 pm or so on Tuesdays, just so he can be home to allow me to retrieve So and her friend from gymnastics, so that aforementioned extraneous activity does not have to take place. Other nights, he leaves work when he sees fit, certainly no where near 5 pm.

Last night at 6 something, Hun was kind enough to call me (and I am certainly grateful it was Hun on the phone and NOT a cop at my door) to let me know he had been in an accident and would not be getting home anytime soon.

Of course, I FIRST verified that he was okay, and Hun was being called away to answer questions, so I did not get details at the time. I then had to make a call to see if my carpool friend would be so kind to retrieve the girls, and of course she IS so kind. Then I called Hun back.

Apparently, the accident was significant enough to total the car. Hun was coming straight East down D. street and had just gone through a green turning yellow and entered the intersection. A 16 year old girl who was facing West and waiting to turn left, later said to police, that the guy behind her honked and it made her nervous and she accelerated to make her left turn. This is when she hit the front driver's side of Hun's car, deploying the airbags and hurling him around into a car to the South waiting at the red.

The police verified all the information from the three drivers involved as well as other witnesses who all corroborated, the sequence of events. The police referred to it as a "no fault" accident, and issued no tickets. An ambulance was on scene and Hun was offered to go to the hospital, which he refused at the time. The woman in the car, that Hun's car subsequently hit did go to the hospital, but my understanding is that no one suffered any serious injuries.

I did not share with the kids the details of what was keeping Hun, but they were inquiring about his whereabouts because while they would normally be going to sleep, they wanted to wait up to light the Menorah with him. I told them his car broke down and he would be late, and they of course, insisted on waiting up. This made for a very productive night on my part. They were hyped up on Chanukah treats and overtired and I was still concerned about Hun who had not arrived home yet.

When the initial shock of the accident had passed and Hun arrived home, he was a bit shaken and started to feel some soreness. We agreed that he would go to the Doctor today, just to document any possible injuries in case it becomes a problem later.

Mostly, it is a headache that Hun did not need right now. He has to deal with insurance and shop for a new car which was not in the immediate plans, although....

Recently I would mention here and there that at some point Hun would need a more presentable car. (Nothing fancy, Hun and I are not into that, just slightly more appropriate for a respectable business man who goes out on the road for business often.)

But the car had a lot of sentimental value to me...

No one (6 siblings) in my family had their own car growing up. My parents did not feel that a 16 or 17 year old needed their own 20 - 30,000 dollar piece of machinery, and I actually agree. I think teenagers can become spoiled if they just have a car handed to them. Even though license age in Illinois is 16, my parents would not let us get our license until we were 17. But once we were licensed, my parents were pretty fair and generous about lending us their car for our personal and social use.

In '94 I started College. While Chicago has a pretty decent public transportation system, it did not cover surrounding suburbs very well. Somehow, I was able to function at first by borrowing my parent's car or getting dropped off and picked up for classes. On the way to college, I saw a car with a "for sale" sign on it. I did not immediately know what make of car it was, but the body looked totally perfect and new and it had a sunroof, which really attracted my 19 year old self.

I told my father about this car and asked if he could come with me to the owners to negotiate a price. I had money saved from various jobs I had and I was also currently working at a restaurant. When we arrived at the owner's house, the door opened, and an older European woman looked at my father and said,
"Oh - maaaa Got"
in her thick European accent.

My father looked at her closely, and then gave a little giggle and said,
"Oh, look who it is..."

I was just dumbfounded really.

Apparently, they went way back and then she sat my father down and offered him coffee and mandel bread (cookies).

I just wanted to buy a car, but I was sitting there for 40 minutes and listening to "old" talk.

The car belonged to her daughter, who had actually moved to the suburbs, but she thought she could sell it quicker near my neighborhood. It was an '89 Mercury Sable (so 5 years old) and in GREAT condition. I was all prepared to haggle and negotiate and have my Dad get all business man like on her European tushik, but then my Dad said,
"just tell me what is a fair price.."

"5,000.00"

"OK"

Huh, what, that's it? You just give her what she asks for. I was paying my father back for this car. I wanted to push for something lower. But what could I do? I mean, she gave him mandel bread for "Bubby" sake.

So, that was it. I became the "paying" owner of a Mercury Sable with sunroof. Little did I know at the time that American cars suck it and Mercury Sables suck it the most.

I will say that my parents did pay for the insurance, but I paid gas and maintenance.

The car was only good to me for so long (because it was a friggin' Mercury Sable). Then it started to nickel and dime me. And then one morning I walked out of the house to take my car on one of its many trips to College and it was bleeding. Seriously, there was red liquid all over the ground under the car. And my incredible savvy car knowledge told me ..... uh, that can't be good. Something died in my car. Turns out my transmission died and transmissions bleed red when they kick the bucket. 1200.00 and a new transmission later (WTF - I paid 5000.00 for this piece of crap) I was getting into the nitty gritty of nursing school. I had to wake up really early in the morning and take various highways to get to my clinicals at various hospitals. I needed a car I could depend on.

I sold the piece of crap for 3,000.00 and decided to actually learn a bit about cars. And in '98 I fell in love with a car called "Camry". I love you number one selling Japanese car in America. You get great mileage. You are considered low maintenance and have the potential for looooooong life. I am a practical person. I don't need me a perty, cool piece of crap. I want me the car that will last forever and not cost me more after I make the final purchase.

But I could not afford a brand spankin' new Camry. And my parents do not buy cars for their children. So my parents and I worked something out. Interest was really low in '98. We would finance the car. My dad would pay the bills to the dealership in full, and I would pay my father, monthly what I could until the car was paid for. My parents also still paid the insurance.

So I got me my sweet, brand spankin' new '98 Toyota Camry in blue and .... YES, it had a sunroof.

It was paid for, in full, by me in two years time, just in time for me to get married and bring it into the marriage.

Hun came into the marriage with a Ford Crown Victoria. He was always under the impression that if Police and taxi drivers drove Ford Crown Victorias then they must be great cars because police and taxi drivers drive HARD. To which I explained that Police cars and probably taxi cars were souped up vehicles and he was not privy to the souped up version of the Ford Crown Victoria, and also, nothing good could come from an American car. I furthered my point, just a few years ago when it came out that the gas tank of the Ford Crown Victoria was easy to explode upon a rear end collision, but the only recall Ford made was to the Police cars, a category my husband's car did not fall into. This was obviously the beginning of Ford's demise.

So, when I was pregnant with Ate and we obviously needed to upgrade from my lovely sedan and his gas guzzling boat, ~~he reluctantly conceded~~ we agreed to sell the Ford and Hun would drive my Camry and I would get the "mom" van.

And that brings us to today...

RIP
'98 Toyota Camry

survived (with gratitude to G-d) by Hun and Orah.
You were good to me my friend. And I stand by your safety, as my Husband walked into the door in one piece. You gave me 11 good years, and now you have gone to Camry heaven. Say hello to my Sable although, come to think of it, the Sable is probably in Hell. I will never forget you.

So, does anyone have any ideas for a new car. Hun wants an all wheel drive at this point. (Frankly, he would drive a big rig if I let him, but where would we park it?)

I want him to have something safe, that does not eat gas and hybrid would probably not be a bad idea these days...

Anyone?

Anyone?

So.............

2009-12-15T17:37:00.003-06:00

DO YOU LIKE IT???

It's about time, right?

I never even blogged about our apple picking back in October, but that is the origins of the new picture.

Well - I am pooped from my recent blog construction, so I'll give you a new post tomorrow (hopefully).

In the meantime, let me know what you think please.

More To Love

2009-12-09T15:35:00.008-06:00

I have a confession to make.

This may make some people uncomfortable to hear.

I have no regrets about this secret.

I...

am......

seeing........

another.........

man!

And he gets to put his hands on me.

I won't even bother to tell you who know me, to not share this little tidbit with my husband.

Why should I bother?

Not only does Hun know about this other man in my life, he encourages it.

This man is great at giving therapeutic massage.

He is also great at adjusting my spine,
applying ultrasonic therapy to my messed up neck and upper back,
and applying a 3 pound weight to my head as it lays extended over a heated roll on the edge of a table so I can regain the proper curvature that G-d intended for me.

I saw on digital x-ray just how misaligned my cervical and upper thoracic spinal areas are, and it is pitiful.

But Dr. Mctouchy is doing his magic and things are shifting and angels are singing and stars are twinkling and...
well, you get the point.

I will add here - he is not just some dude I found on "Craigslist". He is actually a licensed Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine.
So it's legit and I am not a slut.

Want to know what does not really help my wayward spinal issues???

This ~~little~~ freakishly huge dude -

I just took him for his 6 month checkup and found out what kind of load I am carrying around on a semi-regular basis.

20 pounds, 8 ounces - 87th percentile for weight.

28 inches long - 92 percentile for height.

He is the weight of some one year olds...

Hey - chunky monkey - some one year olds walk!!!

Just more to love, I guess.

Blankets Do Not Always = Security

2009-12-07T13:52:00.027-06:00

You know how

This...

+

This...

=

DISASTER!!!

Well apparently, so does

this....

+

this....

(By the way, can you believe Bam is already over 6 months old? Me neither, but back to that in a later post.)

After 3 slightly more docile children at bedtime, I now have a child who just can not be trusted with a blanket of any kind in his crib.

I love my night vision baby monitor. But a baby monitor is supposed to give Mommy peace of mind and a good nights sleep. Instead I have found myself glued to the many all night productions, entitled:

"How Many Ways Can Bam Kill Himself With His Blanket?"

Well, he can magically turn his blanket into a Boa Constrictor as he tosses and turns and strangle himself.

He is also pretty good at playing "peek a boo" with his blanket, only he sometimes forgets to "peek" and "boo" and the blanket lingers a bit too long over any breathable orifice. So that would be suffocation.

And of course, why stop there when a blanket can also act as a perfect teething device. Only I don't remember swollen gums being that far back in the throat. So lets throw in, choking hazard.

And now Bam is being punished for his usually quite appealing playful manner and he will be sans blanket.

NO BLANKET FOR YOU!!!

(I am like the "blanket" Nazi.)

Wanna play a game?

It's called:

"WHERE'S BAM?"

Where's Bam? Where's Bam? Where's Bam?

Oh, thank G-d. There he is. In all his "gassy" glory.

I felt really guilty for taking away all his crib "entertainment". So I ran out and got him this...

... a mini blanket with the head of a decapitated bear attached.

I think we have at least eliminated strangulation with the mini blanket, but how long he chooses to keep it on his face or how far he decides to stuff it down his throat is yet to be determined.

So I will probably still be awake watching the joy he gets from doing things in the privacy of his crib that happen to give his mother a near heart attack.

Gone But Not Forgotten

2009-12-02T13:30:00.006-06:00

This will probably not be the most pleasant of my posts, especially after taking a hiatus for a while. I had a bummer of a day and it is only 1:30 in the afternoon. This post will come in two parts - two parts of my day that coincide.

The first part of my day came in the form of a funeral. There was nothing extremely extraordinary about this particular funeral. The good friend of my parents who passed away had been ill with terminal cancer for quite some time and most recently had been in a coma for weeks, but the quality this person encompassed is what makes the loss all too sad.

Mrs. M. was full of life. She must have been in her early 80's, but these days, so long as your safe and blessed with good health, 80 does not have to mean your demise. In the past couple years, Mrs. M. was no longer blessed with good health, but you would never know it by looking at her. She always had a smile on her face. She always had something delightfully humorous and spirited to say. She lived life as if it truly meant something. And for her, it meant an enormous amount because she was also a Holocaust survivor. For her, everything about life was luxury, because the way she saw it, she was fortunate just to have life.

On a more personal level, she was a woman I have beautiful memories of from the time I was a small child. She was such a close friend to my parents, that we shared many weekend meals, celebrations and events together. It has become blatantly obvious to me, that at my age of only 34 I am personally sharing in the loss of her and many of my parents' other friends. And this is the part that is painful for me.

Most of my friends are the oldest in their families, and their parents are only in their 50's, maybe early 60's. My oldest sister is already 51, so the all too real truth of where the cycle of life leads is becoming ever present in my life, and it scares the sh$# out of me.

I pray that my parents will forever have good health and longevity, but we all know that life is fleeting and one day it will be the end for all of us. I am just not ready at my age to even bear the thought of what could be lurking around the corner. And for all those my age or younger who lost parents way before their time, my heart goes out to them. I don't know how they make it without the parental advice and pearls of wisdom that should have been available to them for many more years.

I left the funeral and watched as my parents joined the procession (taking the body to the airport to be buried in Israel). They were probably the only non-family members who joined the procession to the airport, that is how close they felt to this wonderful woman.

Mrs. M. - I will try to take and pass on a valuable lesson from you so your life will continue to have meaning even though you are no longer with us. When I heard your daughter speak her eulogy of you, she mentioned a few times how you did not let things bother you for much time. You did not bear a grudge. You let things go quickly. When your daughter once became upset with you for letting a pot of fish boil over on her new stove, and subsequently felt bad for her unnecessary anger, she came to you to apologize and you said,

"for what... I don't know what you are talking about...

FORGOTTEN".

So this is my new motto.

"FORGOTTEN"

I will learn to let things slide. Because after all, life is fleeting, why should I waste so much time being upset over things.

But who knew I would be able to actually put this motto into place just a few hours after the funeral?

And so the second part of my day took place at my local grocery store.

Although I am a savvy couponer, (my mother taught me this art when I was quite young) I am not one for blogging about my couponing experiences. I enjoy reading about other peoples incredible coupon domination, but I personally do not find excitement in talking about my own coupon prowess. But today, I will share one coupon moment which began to go bad.

I would have gone straight to the grocery store from the funeral, but I specifically drove home first just to retrieve my coupons. I knew exactly what I needed, many things already discounted and I had a plethora of coupons and Catalinas. Many of my items were actually "Proctor and Gamble" products, such as Pampers diapers and wipes, and I was looking forward to making my "P&G" purchases because when spending over 20 dollars on these products I would receive a coupon for 5 dollars off my next shopping order and 5 free Redbox videos. That is pretty much like handing me 10.00 in addition to the 50.00 I saved with coupons on products I was already spending less on because they were the specials this week at Jewel.

In addition, I was smart enough to separate out two piles of "P&G" products to be rung up separately, because it was over 40 dollars all together and would have given me two Catalinas worth 10 dollars each.

Both my grocery orders were rung up and I watched all the Catalinas coming out of the Catalina machine (Catalinas are the coupons that are printed at the store and given to you at the end of your purchase). After I signed for the second order, was when the cashier grabbed the Catalinas and looked at them before turning to me cautiously and announcing,

"Uhhhh, it seems that these Catalinas all came out blank."

"What did you say? Ha ha - for a second I thought you said that all those Catalinas are blank and useless."

"Yeah, that is kind of what I am saying .... blank and useless."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! What about all my coupons for future shopping? Aggggh - WHAT ABOUT MY 2 CATALINAS WORTH 10 DOLLARS EACH????

I was feeling very upset and angry. As the cashier and another Jewel employee tried to reset the Catalina machine and switched out the ink cartridge, all which did not help, I tried to think of Mrs. M.

.....Forgotten

......Forgotten.

It was hard, I will be honest. I was willing to just walk away from it all and let it go.

They did send me to customer service to see if they could help me. I was offered to have my entire transaction (a lot of stuff) voided and re-rung at another register. But life is short, and I did not want to spend that much time of my valuable life waiting to re-ring my groceries when I could just say,

FORGOTTEN!

I did, however pull out the two most available "P&G" products, diapers and wipes and have them voided and re-rung with my original coupons to at least get me one Catalina for the future 5 dollars towards purchase and 5 free Redbox videos. And guess what? Although this register had a working Catalina machine, that particular coupon still did not show up.

Oh gosh -

Forgotten

Forgotten

FORGOTTEN ALREADY!!!!

But the customer service representative actually got on the phone and called the Catalina company and was given a code to manually print me out the damn coupon.

And in the end, I did walk away with at least one coupon worth ten dollars and the rest ....

....uhh, I forget.

Mrs. M. you may be gone, but YOU will never be forgotten.

Some Carpool Entertainment

2009-11-17T15:57:00.006-06:00

Have pigs been flying and I just have not noticed?

Is it just me, or are our small impressionable children having conversations that we, as children never ever had?

I am not even referring to anything inappropriate (although there is plenty of that), just conversation that is rather surprising from 2, seven year old girls.

Carpool just becomes more and more entertaining for me, though. I have no need to turn the radio on for mindless entertainment, I can count on absurd chit chat from little girls.

This past week, the 2nd grade girls were given an interesting assignment. They were required to cut out a tracing of a turkey and then "disguise" it as something else by decorating it. Their one rule was, no coloring. They had to utilize materials to "disguise" their turkeys.

Of course, So finished her project within five minutes of walking in the house, the first day she could. Because, frankly, she is nuts like that.

Her friend Z. brought hers into carpool the Monday it was due.

She chose to "disguise" her turkey as a Pittsburgh "Steelers" football player. And because I am good friends with Z.'s parents, I know exactly where this idea of hers came from.

If her turkey was not a Steelers player, it would have been any Republican politician, more specifically, Ronald Reagan. But her father's other obsession - the Steelers, of course.

And then the conversation began...

Z. "Look at my Turkey. I made a helmet out of tin foil, and used so much yellow and black construction paper, gave him googly eyes and if I was not Jewish, I would have made the football out of actual pig skin. And it says "Ben" on the back."
(because a seven year old can not spell "Roethlisberger" of course. Sheesh - I can hardly spell it.)

So. "Cool, but I think the Bears are a good team."
(seriously, whose daughter is she?)

Z. "Well the Bears have been doing awful this year, I really like the Steelers."

So. "The Bears are going to pick it up in the end season, but it may be too late."

Z. "Last night the "Steelers" played the Cincinnati Bungolz. It was a good game, but the Steelers lost."

It was at this point that I almost hit the car in front of me.

Bungolz???

I am sure she meant Bengals, but then I could be mistaken. I would not put it past her father to have referred to them as
"Bung Holes".

And the conversation went on, but alas, we reached school and I would have to find myself another form of entertainment for the ride home.

What happened to conversations about "My Little Ponies" and "Cabbage Patch Kids"?

(OK, I realize now it would be "Zhu Zhu Pets" and "American Girl Dolls")

But certainly NOT Bears, Steelers and Bungolz.

If you remember, last year my carpool day was Tuesday. And I may have kvetched about Tuesdays from time to time.

Is it weird that I now look forward to my Monday Carpool day?

Can't wait to see what goes on in next week's carpool "episode".

Not Me Monday - Competitive Style

2009-11-15T22:50:00.010-06:00

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was originally created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing to their backs this week.

It was not me who has not written a "Not Me! Monday" in
EONS.

I certainly did not avoid writing the "Not Me! Mondays" because I am not around to post early enough to make top ten and therefore pathetically decide to just not post NMM altogether.

I would never be THAT ~~pathetic~~ competitive.

Speaking of competitive, I did not run 6.2 miles yesterday as part of training for an upcoming half marathon.

I did not run those 6.2 miles after not running at all for two weeks because I was so not busy taking care of a bunch of sickies in my house.

I did not run 6.2 miles two weeks after last running only 5 miles.

I do not, in any sort of way, consider myself a STUPID person.

But, it is not the same BRILLIANT person who ran 6.2 miles yesterday, whose last run two weeks ago was 5 miles, who is now walking like she just got off a horse and will not be able to be in the top ten this week because she will be laying prone on a Chiropractors table when NMM posts

NO DOUBT!

It is not me who is rethinking this whole "gotta run a half marathon to prove something to myself" thing, because it is not me who thinks people should only be running when being chased.

I am not now wondering if I can RUN home quick enough from the Chiropractor's office so that I can make the NMM top ten.

Like I did not mention before, I am so not pathetic.

And my back and hips are certainly not in agony.

How is your Monday, NOT going?

Fragility

2009-11-11T13:35:00.007-06:00

Life is so fragile.

We all know this concept. It mostly dwells deep in the crevices of our mind. But every so often, something concrete happens and we are reminded, at the bitter surface, just how fragile life is.

And yet, when this reminder surfaces and forces us to face a harsh reality, we are not supposed to carry it with us every minute of every waking hour. We are supposed to bury this idea of the tenderness of life, back into the depths of our brains, so that we do not live our lives constantly concerned about what is lurking around the corner for ourselves and our loved ones.

I personally have a hard time with this, with the part of reburying it. I tend to dwell on the fragility of life and consume my time deathly afraid of whether or not something tragic can or will unexpectedly happen in my family. Then I just pray. I pray that G-d does not touch my friends and family with any tragedy or sorrow, and I try to move on. And I am fine, until the next reminder of the fragility of life, and ..... well, its a vicious cycle really.

A day ago, a 61 year old man in my community,a husband, father, grandfather - seemingly healthy, unexpectedly lost his life.

I grew up across the street from this man. He and his wife were still living in the same home right across from my parents home. Their house was the one I went to, when I got home from school and realized I was a latchkey child that day. I played baseball with their sons in front of our house. But now that I am married, with kids, living blocks away, I only see him on an extremely random basis. Frankly, I think whole years have gone by and I do not really see them.

But this past weekend - I saw him twice.

I was at the grocery store Saturday night, when a friend of my parents approached me to ask me about a kosher symbol on a box of ice cream. When I did not have the answer, he looked down the aisle and spotted someone else who may have the answer.

"Rabbi P."

he called...

And Rabbi P. looked up with a smile.

On Sunday, it was a beautiful November day here in Chicago. It was a delicious 70 degrees. I decided to take Bam for a walk, from my house to Target. It is quite a distance from my house, but I have been jogging 5 miles lately, so this walk on this gorgeous day would be nothing.

On the way, I stopped at my parents home for a visit. When I left, there was Rabbi P., across the street in front of his home. He was taking advantage of the surprisingly mild temperatures and was raking leaves into a black garbage bag. When our eyes met, I nodded as if to say hello and he returned the nod. He looked his usual slim and healthy self.

That was Sunday morning. Monday evening, he was playing racquetball with his son at a local community center, where he collapsed, never to return home.

To see someone, so alive and vibrant and healthy looking one day, and hear of their sudden demise, the next, is quite a shock. But no one could be more shocked then his wife and sons. My heart goes out to them. It is a testament to the fragility of life.

And yet, for the rest of us -

Life goes on.