This morning my family arose at 6:45 rather than the usual 7:02. What a difference 15 minutes makes. It was my daughter Mushka who suggested this. She had some homework that we didn't get a chance to finish last night so she suggested an earlier wake-up time. Everyone was dressed by 6:55! We finished homework and breakfast by 7:09. I think this is record timing!! The best is what comes next.
Having finished breakfast we just hung out and chilled and chatted on the couch about whatever came to their minds. Mushka wanted to know if we were going to Israel. Leiba asked me to test her on some hebrew letters. My son, he was walking around with the vacuum cleaner stick wreaking havoc on my wood floors.
After this we headed downstairs to wait for their ride to school where we had a few minutes to be outside in the humid, damp, foggy and warm morning before their 7:40 pickup.
It really amazes me how those 15 minutes made all the difference from a hectic morning to a nice peaceful one that left us all time to talk. Maybe we will will start this for the rest of the year.
Truth be told as I write this I am passing out in my bed as I am exhausted being robbed of my last 15 sleep minutes.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Today I realized I have become just like a friend of mine that I used to look down upon. I was just being judgmental self when I would see her and her four kids living in literal filth. I could not understand how when I would visit her around dinner time, the breakfast dishes and food, were on the floor. The baby's highchair had various meals hardening on its tray. Cups and juice boxes would litter the floor and some kids were still wearing their PJs, faces smeared with dessert from one of the previous meals. What really got me, is that she had a full time houskeeper with her the WHOLE time.
I one time watched it unfold. The housekeeper came in the morning. She then began washing the clothing, the laundry room was piled high with garbage bags of clothing that needed to be washed. She then would help prepare the various meals of the day and attempt to go from bedroom to bedroom picking up dirty diapers, cups, food trays and making the beds. By the time she would get back to the kitchen to clean there would be at least another five hours of work.
Now you are probably wondering if this is what I mean when I said that I have become like this friend. Well, my house does not THANKFULLY look anything like this woman's house, however my kitchen does.
Today, while I was kneading 15lbs of challah dough I looked around my kitchen and that is when it hit me. There was my son, still in his PJs climbing onto his sister's chair reaching for her omelet. Then knocking her Corelle plate onto the floor and exclaiming "ohhh" as it clattered to the floor. A minute later he moved onto the next chair and started banging a fork onto the glass that was filled with chocolate milk.
Then my daughters came in. They, thankfully dressed themselves today in 86 degree weather in turtle necks and boots that we had bought last season. To make matters more interesting there are currently three full, bursting bags of garbage on the kitchen floor, dishes piled high on either counter, the table is full of trays of food and no end in sight to the cooking.
But maybe a miracle will happen. The house keeper is supposed to come soon and because I always make sure to keep the bedrooms as neat as possible, perhaps my kitchen and my kids will look somewhat decent by the time we are all going to bed.
I one time watched it unfold. The housekeeper came in the morning. She then began washing the clothing, the laundry room was piled high with garbage bags of clothing that needed to be washed. She then would help prepare the various meals of the day and attempt to go from bedroom to bedroom picking up dirty diapers, cups, food trays and making the beds. By the time she would get back to the kitchen to clean there would be at least another five hours of work.
Now you are probably wondering if this is what I mean when I said that I have become like this friend. Well, my house does not THANKFULLY look anything like this woman's house, however my kitchen does.
Today, while I was kneading 15lbs of challah dough I looked around my kitchen and that is when it hit me. There was my son, still in his PJs climbing onto his sister's chair reaching for her omelet. Then knocking her Corelle plate onto the floor and exclaiming "ohhh" as it clattered to the floor. A minute later he moved onto the next chair and started banging a fork onto the glass that was filled with chocolate milk.
Then my daughters came in. They, thankfully dressed themselves today in 86 degree weather in turtle necks and boots that we had bought last season. To make matters more interesting there are currently three full, bursting bags of garbage on the kitchen floor, dishes piled high on either counter, the table is full of trays of food and no end in sight to the cooking.
But maybe a miracle will happen. The house keeper is supposed to come soon and because I always make sure to keep the bedrooms as neat as possible, perhaps my kitchen and my kids will look somewhat decent by the time we are all going to bed.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Background Noise
Did you ever try to read or write something while someone else is listening/watching some really bad UTUBE videos?
Some people find it fascinating to view all types of videos etc. etc. They click on one thing and then before you know it, it is an hour later and they are still sitting there watching a variety of stupidity. I realize that it is addicting. What happens is simple; Your friend sends you link to something that they find amusing. You click, you watch, you find it mildly amusing. Next the site you are visiting "suggests" similar things that you may find interest in and the cycle repeats.
I personally NEVER watch any of the links that people send me, fearful that I will perpetuate the aforementioned behavior. Unless someone specifically tells me why I must watch a certain piece, I just delete it.
Back to my basic point, is that this evening I was trying to blog about some of the things that occurred today, but it was IMPOSSIBLE as there was too much background noise. Not the classical music type that sometimes help stir some emotion, or gets your brain working at maximum capacity. It was the type that kept making me forget my "eloquent" lines and caused me to make numerous spelling mistakes. Once in a while I would look over to the various videos that were screwing up my concentration and could not find why someone would even CLICK.
When your background noise becomes your frontal focus, I pity you, as I am sure that all your responsibilities fade away and your brain turns to jelly.
Some people find it fascinating to view all types of videos etc. etc. They click on one thing and then before you know it, it is an hour later and they are still sitting there watching a variety of stupidity. I realize that it is addicting. What happens is simple; Your friend sends you link to something that they find amusing. You click, you watch, you find it mildly amusing. Next the site you are visiting "suggests" similar things that you may find interest in and the cycle repeats.
I personally NEVER watch any of the links that people send me, fearful that I will perpetuate the aforementioned behavior. Unless someone specifically tells me why I must watch a certain piece, I just delete it.
Back to my basic point, is that this evening I was trying to blog about some of the things that occurred today, but it was IMPOSSIBLE as there was too much background noise. Not the classical music type that sometimes help stir some emotion, or gets your brain working at maximum capacity. It was the type that kept making me forget my "eloquent" lines and caused me to make numerous spelling mistakes. Once in a while I would look over to the various videos that were screwing up my concentration and could not find why someone would even CLICK.
When your background noise becomes your frontal focus, I pity you, as I am sure that all your responsibilities fade away and your brain turns to jelly.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Making Ends Meet
"Whenever I almost make the ends meet, someone moves an end." This is a magnet that I have one my refrigerator, and it totally rings true, even though it has a very negative connotation.
Money, I really wish I had some. I can honestly say I have 98% of what I need, so its not that I need money for my needs, or even for my wants, because really all I want is to have my needs fulfilled.
However, every now and then I get a reminder that my needs are greater than what I realize. For instance, my children's school bill arrived. Along with a letter saying that $1075.00 is due immediately to secure their admission into school next year.
Great, where the heck am I supposed to come up with that. I filled out the paperwork for seventeen hours, now I just need the money. This type of thing just makes me want to have a job that I can stash some income away so that when these types of things arise, I have money for them.
I am a professional volunteer. That means my entire life is given over to volunteering. I receive compensation when someone feels ingratiated by what I have done for them and drops a donation my way based on what they deem reasonable. What a life? What was I thinking signing up for this? Can't I get a real job? I suppose I should. This volunteering stuff just "ain't" cutting it.
So next time I feel like I have the ends just about meeting, and that I have all I really need, thank G-d, I will remind myself that the school bill is still not paid and perhaps a life of committed to the "greater good" needs some re-evaluation.
Money, I really wish I had some. I can honestly say I have 98% of what I need, so its not that I need money for my needs, or even for my wants, because really all I want is to have my needs fulfilled.
However, every now and then I get a reminder that my needs are greater than what I realize. For instance, my children's school bill arrived. Along with a letter saying that $1075.00 is due immediately to secure their admission into school next year.
Great, where the heck am I supposed to come up with that. I filled out the paperwork for seventeen hours, now I just need the money. This type of thing just makes me want to have a job that I can stash some income away so that when these types of things arise, I have money for them.
I am a professional volunteer. That means my entire life is given over to volunteering. I receive compensation when someone feels ingratiated by what I have done for them and drops a donation my way based on what they deem reasonable. What a life? What was I thinking signing up for this? Can't I get a real job? I suppose I should. This volunteering stuff just "ain't" cutting it.
So next time I feel like I have the ends just about meeting, and that I have all I really need, thank G-d, I will remind myself that the school bill is still not paid and perhaps a life of committed to the "greater good" needs some re-evaluation.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Are We There Yet?
Many times I find myself asking "are we there yet?" To some it may seem like I am merely asking if we have gotten to some destination or something. However, I feel that it is my mantra, it is even my BBM status at all times. "Are we there yet," refers to any situation in my life that I feel that the outcome is just not quite clear yet and I would rather be elsewhere or be done with whatever I am presently doing.
Recently, we all went gown shopping, as one of my many sisters is getting married in about a month, "Are we there yet," was all I could think in the hours upon hours of trying on styles, shapes, colors, analyzing, pricing and comparing the many many gowns.
Often I will be at a dinner party, "are we there yet," is anyone having any fun yet? Is the time going to pass any faster? At that point some good wine or vodka is sorely needed and often provides the temporary respite, but seriously, can we just be done with this, I would much rather be checking facebook or accomplishing something purposeful.
Thursdays are my absolute WORST day of the week. It is the day that I must start preparing for shabbos. My house gets straightened and a four course dinner and lunch is prepared. All that and 15 pounds of challah dough must be kneaded, shaped, and baked. It is treacherous and I dread it almost every week. This is all while balancing the children, making sure they are fed, lunches prepared for the next day, and kitchen not TRASHED as I never know who may show up at my home. All I can think about on Thursdays is "are we there yet."
However, when I am basically all done with everything for Friday night, sometime on Friday afternoon, I never stop to relish that moment, as the next stage of dinner and what not is right upon my heels making me think, "are we there yet?"
As I was frantically finishing up my chocolate pecan tart for ten tonight, I kept thinking "are we there yet," as the tart had many steps including a cooling point that never seemed to happen, and I just wanted to get to bed already. But then I thought to myself that we are probably NEVER there. I should just get over it and realize that probably death is the only thing that is so "there" that there is no where to go, nothing to look forward to, and nothing to do.
So even though I often find myself dreading whatever I am currently doing or anticipating and even though I probably will ALWAYS think to myself, "are we there yet," I should stop and smell the chocolate pecan tart and realize that No, I AM NOT THERE, but I better get myself over HERE.
Recently, we all went gown shopping, as one of my many sisters is getting married in about a month, "Are we there yet," was all I could think in the hours upon hours of trying on styles, shapes, colors, analyzing, pricing and comparing the many many gowns.
Often I will be at a dinner party, "are we there yet," is anyone having any fun yet? Is the time going to pass any faster? At that point some good wine or vodka is sorely needed and often provides the temporary respite, but seriously, can we just be done with this, I would much rather be checking facebook or accomplishing something purposeful.
Thursdays are my absolute WORST day of the week. It is the day that I must start preparing for shabbos. My house gets straightened and a four course dinner and lunch is prepared. All that and 15 pounds of challah dough must be kneaded, shaped, and baked. It is treacherous and I dread it almost every week. This is all while balancing the children, making sure they are fed, lunches prepared for the next day, and kitchen not TRASHED as I never know who may show up at my home. All I can think about on Thursdays is "are we there yet."
However, when I am basically all done with everything for Friday night, sometime on Friday afternoon, I never stop to relish that moment, as the next stage of dinner and what not is right upon my heels making me think, "are we there yet?"
As I was frantically finishing up my chocolate pecan tart for ten tonight, I kept thinking "are we there yet," as the tart had many steps including a cooling point that never seemed to happen, and I just wanted to get to bed already. But then I thought to myself that we are probably NEVER there. I should just get over it and realize that probably death is the only thing that is so "there" that there is no where to go, nothing to look forward to, and nothing to do.
So even though I often find myself dreading whatever I am currently doing or anticipating and even though I probably will ALWAYS think to myself, "are we there yet," I should stop and smell the chocolate pecan tart and realize that No, I AM NOT THERE, but I better get myself over HERE.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
It is customary during the "intermediary days" of Passover to take your children on special outings as a family. The husband is home from work on these days and in order to show the children that it is not just an ordinary vacation, special day trips are taken.
Today, I took my children to a mini amusement park. There were the traditional carnival games, as well, a choo choo train, a pirate ship, haunted house etc. Jews from various Hasidic, Ashkenazic and Sephardic backgrounds gathered there, in long lines around the rides. I noticed as Mothers gazed with pride at their many children all dressed in matching designer outfits, fathers ran to purchase more tickets, sisters and brothers talked excitedly about which ride to visit next. Grandpas shoving their large frames into mini teacups or flying elephant rides so that they could ride with their excited yet slightly apprehensive 5 year old granddaughters.
As I stepped into the parking lot for a minute, I noticed a most unusual site. A wheel-chair bound man who had no legs past his knees was getting out of his handicap accessible mini van to join his disabled wife who walked with crutches and their beautiful baby girl, a toddler, in her stroller pushed by an assistant.
It struck me as pretty amazing. This special family was celebrating the way every other one was despite their obvious situation.
I wondered if their baby daughter, seeming not more than a year old, could even ride any of the rides. However I'm sure their excitement of the prospect of being able to take their daughter out and experience the great joy parents have when treating their children to a special outing masked any rationale.
As I passed them, I felt blessed that I had gotten to witness this site. I felt a deep sense of appreciation for my blessings, and I felt so happy for the disabled couple that though their differences were so apparent got to celebrate just like everyone else.
Today, I took my children to a mini amusement park. There were the traditional carnival games, as well, a choo choo train, a pirate ship, haunted house etc. Jews from various Hasidic, Ashkenazic and Sephardic backgrounds gathered there, in long lines around the rides. I noticed as Mothers gazed with pride at their many children all dressed in matching designer outfits, fathers ran to purchase more tickets, sisters and brothers talked excitedly about which ride to visit next. Grandpas shoving their large frames into mini teacups or flying elephant rides so that they could ride with their excited yet slightly apprehensive 5 year old granddaughters.
As I stepped into the parking lot for a minute, I noticed a most unusual site. A wheel-chair bound man who had no legs past his knees was getting out of his handicap accessible mini van to join his disabled wife who walked with crutches and their beautiful baby girl, a toddler, in her stroller pushed by an assistant.
It struck me as pretty amazing. This special family was celebrating the way every other one was despite their obvious situation.
I wondered if their baby daughter, seeming not more than a year old, could even ride any of the rides. However I'm sure their excitement of the prospect of being able to take their daughter out and experience the great joy parents have when treating their children to a special outing masked any rationale.
As I passed them, I felt blessed that I had gotten to witness this site. I felt a deep sense of appreciation for my blessings, and I felt so happy for the disabled couple that though their differences were so apparent got to celebrate just like everyone else.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Space Invasion
I was chatting with a woman the other Friday night and she kept moving back away from me. I am not sure what her thinking was, maybe it was bad breath (either of ours), or her fear that I would reach out and grab her or something. But there we were, talking softly, as to not be overheard, and she kept moving backwards and I, kept inching forward, yet after a time or two I only inched forward a drop, not getting too close to her to as to avoid her moving back again making the cycle repeat. I suppose we could have spoken louder, and kept the distance between us greater, but like I said, it was a quiet conversation.
This incident was so strange it got me thinking about space invasion. I remember one time I went to fight a parking ticket in New York. When I finally got into the judges office, I handed her the ticket and she motioned for me to take a seat. Now the defendant seats were about 10 feet from her desk, so I sat down and began to pull the chair forward to sit across from her at her desk so that we could have a reasonable discussion. Upon seeing this she told me to keep the chairs where they were and "just sit down over-there."
I am not sure if this was an intimidation technique or she just didn't want any of the New York City riffraff too close to her. However, I was about 7 months pregnant, did she really think I would jump her if she declared that I pay the full ticket amount? Well, all in a days work, if I had attacked her it probably wouldn't have been the first time for the judge.
There is this one gentleman that I avoid talking to at all costs. When he is around I literally hide or busy myself as not to be suckered in. He comes right up to you and touches you when he speaks. If you dare move back he comes even closer than before. His eyes are a fake contact colored green and he opens them really wide when he tells a story as if it is the most fascinating thing that his twelve year old son sealed an envelope.
The conversations never end either. After you endure his storytelling and you think it is finally over and you breathe a sigh of relief, he comes right up behind you and taps your shoulder to tell you ONE MORE thing. When you turn around he is right there, and I mean RIGHT THERE so that you almost kiss him!
Socializing is usually fun, I always enjoy a good conversation however not when I have to analyze the other person's body language, so much that I cannot even follow the conversation because I am too busy thinking about dodging their next tap, or inching forward just the right amount, or wondering if I have something stuck between my teeth.
This incident was so strange it got me thinking about space invasion. I remember one time I went to fight a parking ticket in New York. When I finally got into the judges office, I handed her the ticket and she motioned for me to take a seat. Now the defendant seats were about 10 feet from her desk, so I sat down and began to pull the chair forward to sit across from her at her desk so that we could have a reasonable discussion. Upon seeing this she told me to keep the chairs where they were and "just sit down over-there."
I am not sure if this was an intimidation technique or she just didn't want any of the New York City riffraff too close to her. However, I was about 7 months pregnant, did she really think I would jump her if she declared that I pay the full ticket amount? Well, all in a days work, if I had attacked her it probably wouldn't have been the first time for the judge.
There is this one gentleman that I avoid talking to at all costs. When he is around I literally hide or busy myself as not to be suckered in. He comes right up to you and touches you when he speaks. If you dare move back he comes even closer than before. His eyes are a fake contact colored green and he opens them really wide when he tells a story as if it is the most fascinating thing that his twelve year old son sealed an envelope.
The conversations never end either. After you endure his storytelling and you think it is finally over and you breathe a sigh of relief, he comes right up behind you and taps your shoulder to tell you ONE MORE thing. When you turn around he is right there, and I mean RIGHT THERE so that you almost kiss him!
Socializing is usually fun, I always enjoy a good conversation however not when I have to analyze the other person's body language, so much that I cannot even follow the conversation because I am too busy thinking about dodging their next tap, or inching forward just the right amount, or wondering if I have something stuck between my teeth.
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