For richer or poorer…

Our bubbelah's (sweethearts)
Our bubbelah’s (sweethearts)

In December, on the very day that follows jolly ol’ St. Nick, traipsing (trudging) soot through the Manor, schlepping (hauling) holiday gifts aplenty, the Mrs. and me, we will be legally married for three years. We’ve been together for just shy of 19 years. There was a bit of lag-time before the Supremes sang out to the world that we are in fact, equal. That our love counts too. Hey, that it happened in my lifetime! Pthui, pthui, pthui… So what, our engagement was long (16 years), and we had a couple of kinder (kids) out-of-wedlock. Nu?

Now, like all of you, we live through sickness and health, for richer or poorer… And what I have learned is that ‘poorer’ carries so much more in definition. Oy vey iz mir (Woe is me)… Poorer doesn’t always refer to insufficient bank funds. Sure we are shy of green and becoming quite the frugalista’s. We are actually quite rich in our poverty! Let me tell you three ways how:

Sleep. They say, a nacht on shlof iz di gresteh shtrof (a sleepless night is the worst punishment). Well, how about 3,285 of them! Yes, our kinder (kids), sweet shana madelahs (little girls) that they are, they lack the skillset to gai shluffin (sleep) like normal children without us mommas in tow. Often times, as we try our best to lull them to slumber, you can hear either the Mrs. or me mumble under our breath, “FCKITY F#CK FCK, will you please just go the F%CK to SLEEP!”

This is a far-reaching problem. It means neither sitter, grandparent, family member, sleep doula, nor even Mary Poppins herself, can lay them down for the necessary night’s worth of zzzz’s. Co-sleeping wee-sized infants have grown into co-sleeping small humans. They stand tall as trees, long limbs kicking, elbowing and stealing our snuggly quilt nightly. Our oversize king mattress, well not so much.

Our sleep bank and our cash bank look all too similar. Oy.

Yes, I co-sleep in their bed too.
Yes, I co-sleep in their bed too.

Kid-free zone. I’m talking about ‘alone time.’ Adult time. For schmoozing (talking), to catching up, binge watching Grace and Frankie or Orange is the New Black while spooning on the sofa. Even having actual time to talk about our dear kinder with each other. Taking in ‘a nice meal’ together, when we are both showered, dressed like we put in some sort of effort in the game, and totally tantrum free.

Thankfully, the Mrs. and me, we have some truly remarkable friends who have recognized our severe insufficiency in the kinder-free’ zone and have started with sleepovers. Big, she loves the sleepover, and Little, well, she is trying the best she can. We are not quite there. Last night’s pick-up (mid- Downton Abbey, season 6, episode 3), and todays screeching fits, outbursts and hysterics are proof.

Time. Not great bits of it mind you, but an occasional late slumber, where my body awakens because it’s met some sort of natural and healthful internal quota. Grabbing a shower without a cutie little punim (face) opening the curtain and asking, ‘do I know where her shoes are,’ or, ‘do you have any money.’  Uninterrupted time to poop, alone. Yes, I said it. That would be f#cking amazing.

So my Mrs., as we tackle the richness of poverty in our lives, please know we are in it together, for now and forever. That alone brings me such nachas (joy, pleasure), no gelt (money) can ever buy. I love you my sweet. And those kinder, kaynahorah (warding off the evil eye), they are happy, healthy, wonderful, meshuggeneh (crazy) girls.

Wow, I am rich.

Hnah lebn. Das iz nit a kleyd repetitsye. Enjoy life. This is not a dress rehearsal.

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Let the Sun Shine: wordless wednesday

Di zun shaynt far itlekhn umzist. The sun shines on everyone for free.

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Ven nit di shein, volt kain shoten nit geven. If not for the light, there would be no shadow.

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Have I got an idea?

We are practicing climbing walls and fences, you know, in case we should need such a skill
We are practicing climbing walls and fences, you know, in case we should need such a skill

Dear Mr. President, can I call you Barack?

I mean I do feel that close to you. You are my president and the president of my family. You and the Supremes actually are responsible for making us visible, and I am forever grateful for your wisdom and intellect. You have done so much good for us all. I am so proud to have you and Michelle as our Potus and Flotus. Oy gevalt (woe is me), how I could go on and on?

But given the current situ at hand, I feel I should be less verbose and strike my point early. Things are batshit crazy in our country feel a bit unsettling with the impending Mr. Macher (scheming social climber) Elect’s upcoming inaugural. So I got to thinking. You know that phrase; I think it’s a Cherokee Proverb (we won’t tell Mr. Macher T that, it will just anger him further), “Don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes.” Well maybe, as you and Michelle are packing up your things, you leave behind one pair of shoes in the Potus closet.

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll try them on. And like Cinderella, whose shoes forever changed her life, your Potus powered ‘kicks’ that you have been ‘commander-in-chief-ing’ around in for the past eight years will do something magical for the mystifying Mr. Macher T. Perhaps when he laces up, and potchka’s (keeps busy with no clear end in sight) about in the oval office, he will sense your compassion, empathy and willingness to hear and be open. Possibly, right in those moments of strolling in your very experienced and authentic set of shoes, he will f*cking quit his narcissistic and sociopathic ways and get a clue better understand the feelings, perspectives and emotions of we the people…who are all searching for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness together.

Michelle, she doesn’t need to leave any pumps or even sneakers behind, for I just learned that Mrs. Macher T will not be living in the White House. We should only be so lucky for the rest of this meshuggeneh (crazy) clan.

Now, a lot is riding on this shoe idea, but given the circumstances that stand before us, we have to start somewhere. And, it may be easier than taking out the Electoral College.

Thank you Barack, for all you have done and continue to do every day. I welcome any ideas you may have towards passing the baton with the same set of leadership, integrity, morals and ethics that you bring to the party each and every day. You Barack, are a true mensch (decent, good and honorable human being).

Very sincerely yours,

Lisa

Di shich fun oreman’s kind vaksen miten fisel. The shoes of the poor man’s children grow with their feet.

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Forget your tsuris (troubles), c’mon get happy…

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While I don’t think I’ll be shouting ‘hallelujah’ anytime soon, it’s time. I need to stop brooding over the literal dreadful future state of the union and turn my frown upside down. After all, I’m a kveller (one who bursts with pride and positivity) not a kvetch (complainer). Remember my glass half full look at life? Well, I’m trying hard to conjure that back up since the events of November 8. So here goes… My top five, Nu? I’m lucky to find three things to get my ‘happy’ on, ASAP:

  1. Smile. It’s contagious. Smile at a stranger, a coworker, a spouse, a kid, and mostly, they will smile back at you. It’s like a yawn, without the tired, hazy, breathy feeling. It’s a necessary contagion to release into our world right about now. For those who don’t smile back, well, they must be having a really bad time. Perhaps they are constipated (okay, we are adults here you know – constipation can be quite unsettling and cause severe cantankerousness). A smile may help the stuffed-stranger release endorphins to help them, well, ‘go,’ if you know what I mean. At the very least, we will have one smiling person, and one on the run… Before you know it, prior puffy person will be a bit lighter on their feet, grimace-be-gone, and they can head into the world spreading more smiles. See how this theory works? Smile begets smile. It’s quite lovely and much more sustainable than tsuris (troubles).

Tsuris tsezegen di harts. Trouble cuts up the heart. Dem bitersten mazel ken men farshtellen mil a shmaichel. The bitterest misfortune can be covered up with a smile. 

  1. Enjoy the moment. I don’t know about you, but I need more bad news like I need a luch in kop (hole in the head). Perhaps I need to turn off those CNN alerts on my phone and stop worrying about every scenario from this meshuggeneh (crazed) new administration. Relish my time with the Mrs., my Little and Big. With Gatsby, the most present of us all! At work. At play. With friends. Worry eats the present, delays the future and causes some scowl on my punim (face). Nothing says you are an adult more than a scowling punim! And, to extrapolate further, a scowling punim makes those horrid lines appear around my mouth and in between my eyebrows. I need to look more like an alta kocker (for real, this means an ‘old shit’) and get more gray hairs over this? Fuck that! I think not.

Zok nit kin vey. Don’t worry about it. Mit mazel ken men alles. With goodness, everything is possible.

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  1. Laugh more. Open your eyes and find the funny. I know, these times, they are not the best. But they are the times we now must knowAnd somehow, I hope we can realize and learn how similar we all really are. Let laughter be our joiner. The thing that unites us. That allows us to coexist, and then grow. Nothing sounds better to me then my kinder (kids) chock-full of chuckles and merriment. My weekly coffee klatsch (you know who you are) having a knee-slapping good time. My shvester (sister) and I chortling so hard, yes, we may pee a little! The sweet sound of the Mrs. in a hearty guffaw… (Maybe, that last one is just for me). But you get my drift. Euphoria is there. Make people laugh, laugh more with people. It may not change the world, but it sure will make this world more enjoyable.

A gelechter hert men veiter vi a gevain. Laughter is heard further than weeping. L’Chaim! To life!

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Keeping Hope Alive: Wordless Wednesday

 

Maybe, the world, it looks better this way?
Maybe, the world, it looks better this way?
"To all the little girls watching...never doubt that you are valuable and powerful & deserving of every chance & opportunity in the world." —Hillary Clinton
“To all the little girls watching…never doubt that you are valuable and powerful & deserving of every chance & opportunity in the world.” —Hillary Clinton
When they go low, we go high!
When they go low, we go high!
My shvester and bruder-in-law, and a nice cabbage salad
My shvester and bruder-in-law, and a nice cabbage salad
My mishpocheh!
My mishpocheh, and a nice pizza!
"This loss hurts. But please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it." —Hillary
“This loss hurts. But please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.” —Hillary
I do want to go to U of F!
What do you mean she didn’t win?
Bei mir bist du sheyn. (To me, you are beautiful.)
Bei mir bist du sheyn. (To me, you are beautiful.)
Teach the children well
Always, teach the children well.
Stop, look, listen
Stop, look, listen
A nice walk in the woods
A nice walk in the woods

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When things go wrong, as they sometimes will…

"To all the little girls watching...never doubt that you are valuable and powerful & deserving of every chance & opportunity in the world." —Hillary Clinton
“To all the little girls watching…never doubt that you are valuable and powerful & deserving of every chance & opportunity in the world.” —Hillary Clinton

I had to memorize that poem in grade school, and recite it to my class. I think I now know why. The poem is called ‘Don’t Quit,’ and was written in the late 1800’s by Edward A. Guest. Obviously, good old Ed had the awareness to realize that someday, here in the good ol’ U. S. of A., we would be in need of an optimistic verse to deal with the overwhelming feeling of doom and gloom from the tsuris (worry and woes) caused by the 2016 Election.

A baizeh tsung iz erger fun a shlechter hant. Ikh mura mir itst hobn beyde. A wicked tongue is worse than an evil hand. I fear we know have both.

Don’t quit. Seems easy enough. Bat-shit crazy things happen Truly bad things happen all the time. I can be heartbroken, scared, stunned and angry as fucking hell, but I won’t quit. I can’t. I have two shana madelahs (sweet little girls) who need me to energize and focus all of these emotions and inspire them into action.

What we have ahead of us is the fight of a lifetime. And my Mrs. and me, we are in it to win. We know what progress and hope feels like. We will know it again. Because we have to… Because we can’t live in a world that is so hostile, albeit anti-woman, anti-people of color, anti-immigrant, anti-LGBT, anti-disability, anti-religious freedoms, anti-climate, anti-fucking freedom and liberty and justice for all.

Our battle will be one of civility. We will sign petitions. We will write letters. We will march bravely and peacefully in protests. We will use our voices. I will use my words. And we will continue to vote. Most importantly, the Mrs. and me, we will be role models to our dear bubelah’s (sweetheart girls). We will model kindness, empathy, hope and respect – things that everyone deserves in this world. Even the man whose name I cannot yet type or say aloud who won the election. We understand democracy.

“This loss hurts. But please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.” —Hillary Clinton

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We will fight because this world belongs to my daughters and your daughters – and all of the kinder (children).

“To all the little girls watching…never doubt that you are valuable and powerful & deserving of every chance & opportunity in the world.” —Hillary Clinton

Di velt zogt a vertel: besser mit a klugen farliren aider mit a nar gevinen. The world has a saying: better to lose with a wise man than to win with a fool.

We have a fool. Please prove the world, and me wrong. I would love nothing more than to be very, very wrong about the tsuris (troubles) that are ahead for us all.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will… don’t quit.

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My Pledge

Since the election, I haven’t had the energy or the gumption to write. This will end soon, I am certain. Thankfully, I have great blogger peeps all around the world in support of my voice, and yours. Please see this wonderful post from Johanna. Nailed it, friend. TY

All Things Chronic

As an old woman who happens to be white, I’m not proud of what other members of my race (and the electoral college) have done in electing Trump. What can I do?

I pledge to stand up with every group that Trump has denigrated. I pledge to be vocal about my support for the LGBTQ community, people of color, women, veterans, the disabled, those who suffer from mental health conditions, the homeless, and of course, pain patients.

If you want to be a racist or a bigot, you cannot do so if I’m around. This has nothing to do with political correctness. This is about being a human being.

On the internet or out in public, at Walmart or in Walgreens, if you behave like a racist, sexist, or homophobe, be warned that I will call you out on it. I’m not afraid of you. You think Trump has given…

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