On Sunday, my husband's friend passed away leaving his four children in the Orphan Club. The Orphan Club is every parent's worst fear and every child's worst nightmare.
Parent's never want to leave their children alone. They want to be there when their children are happy, sad, excited and angry. They want to hug, ponder, adore, get frustrated, have pride in, and love their children UNCONDITIONALLY. Nothing makes a parent happier. Children obviously need this. This is the way the world was created. A parent's unconditional love helps them grow from childhood into adulthood with the confidence that at least two people love them no matter what. This then is perpetuated to their children and so on.
That is one of the many reasons why I cannot understand how G-d could take a parent from his children. He created an unshakable bond of reliance and love yet at any moment he can take it away. I get that G-d wants to awaken in us empathy, compassion, he wants to challenge us to grow and to become better people. He wants us to realize not to take anything for granted. However, I cannot understand how it has to come at the expense of innocent, adorable children.
These children and many others, unfortunately, have recently joined the Orphan Club. A club no one wants to be part of, but because of G-d's reasoning that is above and beyond my limited understanding they are now part of.
Please G-d if you feel the need to shake us to our very core and wake us out of our selfish worlds, please spare the children. You who created them to rely on their parents as they do, save them from the Orphan Club where membership should be closed.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Laundry Last
I think that laundry capabilities skipped two generations in my family.
My grandmother and great-grandmother could fold laundry perfectly. No matter what shape or size the item was it was folded neatly. When you took it out, it looked as though it came out of its original packaging. If you open their linen closets, the sheets and towels are folded perfectly. What a shame that this talent did not pass on to me, nor did it pass on to my mother.
Growing up mom sorted the laundry into piles. Come get your pile she would yell and everyone would come get their pile and shove it into their drawer or onto their shelves. There were at least 11 piles, so I can understand her not wanting to fold each sock, however I also wonder if its because she didn't get that laundry gene.
Tonight when I was folding a dreaded load of laundry I got down on myself. I fail! I cannot fold neatly at all. When I fold a simple flat sheet the corners don't match up. I can't even fold a towel right without to fold and refold three times before I am happy with it. Forget t-shirts, socks, underwear are pretty bad too. The worst are button downs or zip up sweaters. Those, you have to first button or zip and then align all the sides perfectly. I would never be able to get a job at the Gap or Urban Outfitters as my folding skills are sorely lacking.
What I cannot get past however, is that I have been folding laundry for over TEN years and still, it looks as though a ten year old folded everything. From time to time, and actually as I write this, I mean very seldom, does my husband help me fold. He folds beautifully. Everything lines up and the piles stack nicely, its as if the clothing love him and will stand at attention for him. Me, they fight me, they don't like me, we just don't click, I didn't get the laundry gene.
Laundry is last, laundry is last for me, laundry clean or dirty, although I much prefer clean, we just were not meant to be.
P.S. My linen closet is a wonderful, fresh smelling place where my towels and sheets are lined up almost perfectly.
My grandmother and great-grandmother could fold laundry perfectly. No matter what shape or size the item was it was folded neatly. When you took it out, it looked as though it came out of its original packaging. If you open their linen closets, the sheets and towels are folded perfectly. What a shame that this talent did not pass on to me, nor did it pass on to my mother.
Growing up mom sorted the laundry into piles. Come get your pile she would yell and everyone would come get their pile and shove it into their drawer or onto their shelves. There were at least 11 piles, so I can understand her not wanting to fold each sock, however I also wonder if its because she didn't get that laundry gene.
Tonight when I was folding a dreaded load of laundry I got down on myself. I fail! I cannot fold neatly at all. When I fold a simple flat sheet the corners don't match up. I can't even fold a towel right without to fold and refold three times before I am happy with it. Forget t-shirts, socks, underwear are pretty bad too. The worst are button downs or zip up sweaters. Those, you have to first button or zip and then align all the sides perfectly. I would never be able to get a job at the Gap or Urban Outfitters as my folding skills are sorely lacking.
What I cannot get past however, is that I have been folding laundry for over TEN years and still, it looks as though a ten year old folded everything. From time to time, and actually as I write this, I mean very seldom, does my husband help me fold. He folds beautifully. Everything lines up and the piles stack nicely, its as if the clothing love him and will stand at attention for him. Me, they fight me, they don't like me, we just don't click, I didn't get the laundry gene.
Laundry is last, laundry is last for me, laundry clean or dirty, although I much prefer clean, we just were not meant to be.
P.S. My linen closet is a wonderful, fresh smelling place where my towels and sheets are lined up almost perfectly.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Burnt to a Crisp
Customarily, after a wedding, there are 6 days of celebration that ensue, which include a festive dinner for those 6 days following the Jewish wedding. Typically, family and friends of the bride and groom host the dinner parties.
Our family is hosting the one on Thursday evening. The aunts worked out a menu and jobs were given out, mine, EGGPLANT ROLLITINI. A delicious dish of a ricotta cheese, basil, garlic and mozzarella cheese mixture rolled into thinly sliced eggplant, topped with a savory marinara sauce. It is not the easiest thing to make, however the taste is otherworldly.
Upon mentioning to my mother that this is the job I ended up with, however I do not have all the diary ingredients, my aunt will probably send them over, and that it was not the easiest dish to make, she went on to pressure me as to why I was making such a complicated dish. Couldn't someone else make that she asked? Can't you just make a rice or something simple? Why are you making such a time consuming thing? She then told me she mentioned to another aunt of mine that it was just TOO MUCH for me to be making eggplant rollitini and I should just make something simpl.e
While two out of the three trays of the eggplant were cooking, the organizing aunt calls me frantic. "DID YOU CALL YOUR OTHER AUNT TO CALL ME TO TELL ME THAT IT'S JUST TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO MAKE THIS EGGPLANT?" I calmly explained that I have no idea what she is talking about as I haven't even spoken to that aunt since the wedding.
As we continued talking, it all made sense. Mom shared her thoughts about the eggplant with her sister, who happened to be speaking to the organizing aunt who mentioned to her, that perhaps I should make an easier, less time consuming dish.
WOWEEEE, the only one missing in this equation was my grandmother, usually she is involved in these stupidities, but thankfully this time she was not mixed in! I have no idea how that was avoided.
I told the organizing aunt that the trays were in the oven and the conversation was over.
Back to the eggplant. Two out of the three trays were cooling on the counter. I was downstairs on my computer when I began to fall asleep! I ran upstairs, brushed my teeth and collapsed into bed. At 4AM the baby woke up. Something smelled. I ran to the kitchen. Tray #3 of the eggplant rollitini is burnt to a crisp.
Thankfully, it didn't get to the point of setting off the smoke alarms, or breaking my oven (which is only supposed to cook 3 hours at a time). But now, we are down to two trays of eggplant for 50 people instead of three.
Well, all those that thought I should not be making such a complicated dish should not have any, that way there will be enough for those that appreciate my time and effort in preparing it and cheered me on instead of whining about it.
Weigh in, do you think that since so many people got involved in my eggplant, it just had to burn? Or is just the irony of the whole story?
Our family is hosting the one on Thursday evening. The aunts worked out a menu and jobs were given out, mine, EGGPLANT ROLLITINI. A delicious dish of a ricotta cheese, basil, garlic and mozzarella cheese mixture rolled into thinly sliced eggplant, topped with a savory marinara sauce. It is not the easiest thing to make, however the taste is otherworldly.
Upon mentioning to my mother that this is the job I ended up with, however I do not have all the diary ingredients, my aunt will probably send them over, and that it was not the easiest dish to make, she went on to pressure me as to why I was making such a complicated dish. Couldn't someone else make that she asked? Can't you just make a rice or something simple? Why are you making such a time consuming thing? She then told me she mentioned to another aunt of mine that it was just TOO MUCH for me to be making eggplant rollitini and I should just make something simpl.e
While two out of the three trays of the eggplant were cooking, the organizing aunt calls me frantic. "DID YOU CALL YOUR OTHER AUNT TO CALL ME TO TELL ME THAT IT'S JUST TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO MAKE THIS EGGPLANT?" I calmly explained that I have no idea what she is talking about as I haven't even spoken to that aunt since the wedding.
As we continued talking, it all made sense. Mom shared her thoughts about the eggplant with her sister, who happened to be speaking to the organizing aunt who mentioned to her, that perhaps I should make an easier, less time consuming dish.
WOWEEEE, the only one missing in this equation was my grandmother, usually she is involved in these stupidities, but thankfully this time she was not mixed in! I have no idea how that was avoided.
I told the organizing aunt that the trays were in the oven and the conversation was over.
Back to the eggplant. Two out of the three trays were cooling on the counter. I was downstairs on my computer when I began to fall asleep! I ran upstairs, brushed my teeth and collapsed into bed. At 4AM the baby woke up. Something smelled. I ran to the kitchen. Tray #3 of the eggplant rollitini is burnt to a crisp.
Thankfully, it didn't get to the point of setting off the smoke alarms, or breaking my oven (which is only supposed to cook 3 hours at a time). But now, we are down to two trays of eggplant for 50 people instead of three.
Well, all those that thought I should not be making such a complicated dish should not have any, that way there will be enough for those that appreciate my time and effort in preparing it and cheered me on instead of whining about it.
Weigh in, do you think that since so many people got involved in my eggplant, it just had to burn? Or is just the irony of the whole story?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Separation Anxiety
This past Saturday night, actually Sunday morning at 4am, I packed my three children into my car and headed to Pittsburgh, PA. In my opinion, the pitts of America.
My parents were going to the same wedding, therefore we decided we would drive together, caravan style. We mapped out the route via our GPS's and even printed out Google Map directions, to be sure that we were all going in the same direction, the same way.
It seemed to me as I was driving that dawn would never arrive. It was so dark at 4am, who would have thought it would be so dark. I hate driving in the dark, especially when I am so tired and cold all I want to do is get into bed.
About an hour into our trip, after going over the George Washington Bridge, making sure of course to follow the directions exactly, going over the upper level etc. and making excellent timing all the while, my mother calls to check in.
Hi, did you get off on the I-80. The I-80 I ask, where would that have been? Right after the George Washington Bridge, there was a sign, well i told her that is not where my GPS routed me. It was on the paper she says. The paper, I am freak'n driving myself with three kids in pitch blackness, I was not reading a paper when I have a perfectly amazing GPS. After a few more minutes discussing the directions we realized that for the remainder of my trip I would be all alone, traveling on empty highways, with three children in veritable darkness.
My mother assured me that we would meet up at some point, I agreed, we would meet again...it Pittsburgh. As we hung up the phone and I realized my predicament I began to panic. Panicking is not usually my style as I usually just step up to the plate and take it like a "woman" however, I was concerned and I was nervous and I felt alone. A terrible sinking feeling.
My husband was on a flight back from Israel, he would be meeting me in Pittsburgh, my parents, meeting me in Pittsburgh, the rest of my family, the same. Aha, so I was not so alone as I would be meeting up with everyone at my destination, only my journey would be lonesome. Ok, not so bad. But really, I had five hours left, so actually, yes, it was so bad.
In the end I realize that some people have lonesome Journeys, sometimes people have lonesome lives, but thank G-d all I had here was a bout of separation anxiety for my very, thankfully, un-lonesome life.
My parents were going to the same wedding, therefore we decided we would drive together, caravan style. We mapped out the route via our GPS's and even printed out Google Map directions, to be sure that we were all going in the same direction, the same way.
It seemed to me as I was driving that dawn would never arrive. It was so dark at 4am, who would have thought it would be so dark. I hate driving in the dark, especially when I am so tired and cold all I want to do is get into bed.
About an hour into our trip, after going over the George Washington Bridge, making sure of course to follow the directions exactly, going over the upper level etc. and making excellent timing all the while, my mother calls to check in.
Hi, did you get off on the I-80. The I-80 I ask, where would that have been? Right after the George Washington Bridge, there was a sign, well i told her that is not where my GPS routed me. It was on the paper she says. The paper, I am freak'n driving myself with three kids in pitch blackness, I was not reading a paper when I have a perfectly amazing GPS. After a few more minutes discussing the directions we realized that for the remainder of my trip I would be all alone, traveling on empty highways, with three children in veritable darkness.
My mother assured me that we would meet up at some point, I agreed, we would meet again...it Pittsburgh. As we hung up the phone and I realized my predicament I began to panic. Panicking is not usually my style as I usually just step up to the plate and take it like a "woman" however, I was concerned and I was nervous and I felt alone. A terrible sinking feeling.
My husband was on a flight back from Israel, he would be meeting me in Pittsburgh, my parents, meeting me in Pittsburgh, the rest of my family, the same. Aha, so I was not so alone as I would be meeting up with everyone at my destination, only my journey would be lonesome. Ok, not so bad. But really, I had five hours left, so actually, yes, it was so bad.
In the end I realize that some people have lonesome Journeys, sometimes people have lonesome lives, but thank G-d all I had here was a bout of separation anxiety for my very, thankfully, un-lonesome life.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
I Don't Wanna...
We are leaving for Pittsburgh soon, for a cousin's wedding. I am excited to get out of town as I could really use a change of scenery. The drive however, is 8 hours, and I DON'T WANNA! I don't wanna drive, I don't wanna have to drink caffeinated beverages get the shakes and jitters and feel as I am flying. I don't wanna have to hear my kids whine "are we there yet," I don't wanna have to feel bad because my 15 month old son is stuck in his car seat instead of running around outside in the fresh fall air, I don't wanna have to wonder if the kids are fed, need the bathroom, if the gas tank is low and most importantly IF I WILL STAY AWAKE THE WHOLE TIME.
Truth be told, I am excited to just be at the wedding already. My husband, who has been out of town in Israel for ten days will be joining me in Pittsburgh, we are all looking forward to seeing him. We also know the wedding will be fun, the hotel luxurious, and its great to get to be with family for something so happy. I will keep my eye on the prize as I am really feeling like I DON'T WANNA.
Now as this post is being written I have a psychology paper due on how hearing effects development, you can bet your bottom dollar I DO NOT want to be doing that either. In a future post I will relate to you how this trip went as well as an I DON'T wanna mini-series. In the meantime, wish me luck and GODSPEED on this journey to another state.
Truth be told, I am excited to just be at the wedding already. My husband, who has been out of town in Israel for ten days will be joining me in Pittsburgh, we are all looking forward to seeing him. We also know the wedding will be fun, the hotel luxurious, and its great to get to be with family for something so happy. I will keep my eye on the prize as I am really feeling like I DON'T WANNA.
Now as this post is being written I have a psychology paper due on how hearing effects development, you can bet your bottom dollar I DO NOT want to be doing that either. In a future post I will relate to you how this trip went as well as an I DON'T wanna mini-series. In the meantime, wish me luck and GODSPEED on this journey to another state.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
15 minutes
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.
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.
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.
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