I never do this, but hey, why not?

No joke, I have always resolved not to make resolutions. But now, today, this minute, everything I know as real and true is so farshlugganeh (crazy, mixed up, downright nuts), I figured, why the hell not! I know! Already, you’re discouraged. Just stick with me a minute. In a true to form, ‘Castanza-ian’ way, a little WWGD (What would George Do) might actually make sense. Is that so wrong?

Yiddish Proverb:

When the time comes for you to live, there aren’t enough years. Ven di tsayt kumt far ir tsu lebn, zenen nisht genug yorn.

I think I can see 2019 from here… #shankyoupets

In an effort not to redo my entire life, I’ve stuck to five important well I think so things to help ring in the continuing saga and clusterfu#k that was 2018 the New Year, 2019. And please, don’t worry too, too much… I’m not going to shmie around (wander aimlessly) into another hopeless, political rant.

  1. Do my very best to stay healthy in mind and body. I see the snow on my roof and I know, at 668 months old you can do the math, I need to take good care of me so I can be here to watch my kinder have kinder (children have children), should they ever be allowed to leave the roost. Gutinue! (disbelief) Like this, it could ever happen? I will continue to eat healthfully and mindfully, exercise daily and keep control of my farcockteh (effed up, literally, all crapped up) neck pain. I will feed my soul with books of fiction and nonfiction over bouts of frenzied social media usage. And I will be present with the beautiful people that surround me and give me hope.
  2. Continue the Chaos of the Smile Theory, because we all really need it! Smiles, like yawns, colds and STD’s, they are contagious. Smiling is a nice and easy way of passing along some TLC to our fellow neighbors. If I can be a zeisah neshumah (sweet soul) and, pass it along to others, maybe, just maybe we can build some much-needed love and trust in this world. Slapping a smile on this punim (face) as I type! Can you feel it?
  3. Never stop doing random, simple, nice things for others. Basically, I’ll be a mensch (good-hearted person). As I enter a building, why not hold the door open for others? When I see someone trying desperately to leave a parking lot, I will wave them in front of me and into my lane of traffic. What fun it will be to randomly buy an ice cream cone or a coffee for the person behind me in line. I must continue to pick up litter as I walk my Gatsby. I will remember to bring the love of my life a beautiful flower, a drawing, a poem, a morsel of dark chocolate. I’ll take a mensch over a nogudnik (I bet you know this one!) any day of the week, wouldn’t you?
  4. Send daily thoughts of light and healing to Ruth Bader Ginsburg. One tough cookie, my hero is! And I know, she has made it this far without me. Beating cancer, sexism, glass ceilings, and did I say beating cancer? Three times now — kaynahora (pthui-pthui, keep away evil and harm). It can’t hurt for me to send waves of love her way. Some role model she is, for our sweet maideleh’s (little girls). Stay healthy Ruthie!
  5. Stay fierce, frugal and have more fun! Life, it’s hard. No smoking gun here… It comes with its built-in, brutal knocks. But as far as I know, this life is all I’ve got. Nu? As things come hurling their way at us, at me as they often do, I will find the inner power to work harder and care for my delightful, deserving family. Penny-wise is now, simply wise. We are running lean and will find new ways to run leaner.  WTF? Challenge accepted. Game on. And, if this is as good as it gets, I will add fun, play, sparkles, glitter, joy, and laughter wherever and whenever it is humanly possible. We girls, we just gotta have more fun!

Fight for the things that you care about. But do it in a way that will lead others to join you.

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Supreme Court Justice

So, that is it my friends.
I am sincerely wishing you all a very happy, healthy and prosperous year ahead. C’mon 2019! I’m reading, willing and able! A bie gezunt! Go in good health!

Some great folks I like to share with….

It’s My Coronation Day!

Hi all. It’s time for a little parody. Yesterday, it was my Coronation Day! I got a new crown. Well, not so much like the one Elsa got… mine was more in tune with the rather labor intensive dental version… Please read this along with the tune, “For the first time in forever,” from everyone’ fave, Frozen. Thank you, Disney!
Hey, Queen!
[Anna:]

The pain is tremendous, I can’t ignore My ear, jaw, and neck have gone to war Who knew how much pain a tooth can generate? For years I’ve dealt with pain pitfalls Hit me with more, I’ve got the balls Finally, I will deteriorate!

Dr. A!

Dentists are actually real live people They can be totally strange I’ve never been more ready for a change!

‘Cause for the first time in forever There’s some novocaine in sight Though I’d rather it be never I’ll be staring right at that bright light Can’t tell if I’m scared shitless or gassy And I’m sure I’ll soon be broke ‘Cause no matter how or whatever A root canal’s no joke! I can’t wait ’til this tooth is all done! I’d really rather… go and have some fun
Well, here she is, my crown. A Dental Tiara!
Trying to fathom this crown and all Doctors appointments are no windfall Where’s ‘plan B’ for problems just in case? Starting to feel the numb kick in Beginning to drool right down my chin This gives new meaning to meeting face-to-face And then I walk back into my life Which is totally bizarre I feel like I’ve been hit with a crowbar ‘Cause for yet another time in this forever There’s more novocaine in sight Though I’d rather it be never My endodontist is a delight! (a true mensch) My thoughts are just totally crazy When I think of this circumstance And for the first time in forever I’ll give the lottery a chance [Elsa:] Your roots are gone, your tooth is dead Get that vision of your Visa bill out of your head Stay numb, don’t feel, don’t let them know For others, this would be fixed with a good Bordeaux [Elsa:] But it’s only a few a months [Anna:] It’s only a few months [Elsa:] The pain you’re in’s a drain [Anna:] The pain you’re in’s a drain [Elsa:] Tell the doc’s your budget ain’t champagne [Anna:] Ain’t champagne [Anna:] For another time in this forever [Elsa:] Stay numb, don’t feel, don’t let them know [Anna:] I’m gonna wear a crown [Elsa:] Remember, for some it would be solved with a Bordeaux [Anna:] I’m gonna wear a crown! [Elsa:Stay numb, don’t feel [Anna:] A chance to wear a crown! [Elsa:] You’re no champagne [Anna:] I know it will finally be over, So it doesn’t have to be today ‘Cause no matter how or whatever how or whatever… A Crown will make my day!
Yiddish Proverb: When a toothache comes, you forget your headache. Az es kumt tsonvaitik fargest men kopvaitik.
A bei gezunt! Be healthy friends!

Yes, I promise!

My kinder (Big and Little) and me, we went for a nice walk in the ‘hood with our boychik (little boy), Gatsby. It was a gorgeous autumn day, not too cold and filled bright with sunshine. They were hesitant. A bit groggy from the previous nights’ festivities. Yes, I did the dreaded mom-fail move: I bribed them.

“Come with me to walk Gatsby and I’ll get you both vanilla steamers at High Point!”

Before I could say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, shoes, socks, coats and a, “We’re ready to go, Mommy! Aren’t you coming?” Here are a few snaps for our jaunt. What a lucky momma I am!

Yiddish proverb:

Never promise something to a child and not give it to them, because in that way they learn to lie.

Keynmol onzog epes tsu a kind aun nisht gebn es tsu zey, vayl in dem veg zey lernen tsu lign.

Dressed and obsessed with chicken bones, he’s ready to walk…

Fun in the autumn leaves heaps

The stop at High Point Cafe, for some Vanilla Steamers with whipped cream, as promised… who’s missing his momma here?

Ahhh… lovely cuppa for kinder! Worth the walk! I wonder why they look so pensive? Nu?

Always, we make friends along the way…

The beauty of nature’s own design — priceless.

      
      
  

Oh, she’s got pipes

My Little (bottom left of the picture), she’s got herself some pipes, alright. Girlfriend can scream. She can shriek so much better than like Jamie Lee Curtis (nicknamed, the Queen of Scream) in any of the Halloween movies… It’s as if she is channeling some kind inner demon, that can reverberate at only the loudest volume. It starts from the tip of her toes and amplifies at the top of her lungs, barking, bellowing, clamoring … And yes, there are biting bouts of bonelessness, punching, and kicking that add to the happening that is a Little tantrum. Dear neighbors on all sides, above, and below, please accept my apologies for the ongoing mellifluous Mayday moments that travel freely through our thin walls. It’s no doubt, meshuggeneh (crazy) in here at times.

But there is a bigger problem that rocks me to my very core. Me and my Mrs., we do not know why our caged bird sings… Sure, there is a mishmash of anger, sadness, drama, fear, stress, exhaustion, hunger, and irrationality that we all experience every day since mr t took office from time to time. But she’s seven. How bad is life when you are seven? What kind of tsuris (trouble), plagues and misfortunes are stirring in the mind of my shana maideleh (sweet little girl)? Do I seek an exorcist so that Mrs., Big and I don’t get evicted completely bleed out from our eardrums? We are shreknt (frightened, terrorized).

There is no question that when my kinder (children) hurt, I hurt. You see, as I am certain you wise caregivers already know, this special performance nearby residents aside is saved only for us, her mishpocheh (family). Yes, we are safe enough to go all batsh*t cray-cray on to let your hair down. But it is a real shondah (shame) that we can’t crack this nut code and offer solace to my maidel (cutie-pie)

What is wrong? What happened? Are you angry honey? I don’t know. What happened honey? I don’t know. Little, can you stop screaming? I don’t know. Sweetie, please listen to mommy. No response. Did somebody hurt you? No. Did somebody hurt your feelings? I dunno? Are you sick, wounded, have we somehow scarred you for life tired, shaken, scared, hungry?

IWANTCHINESEFOODANDWEAREN’THAVINGCHINESEFOODSOIAMNEVEREATINGAGAINANDWILLFINDAWAYTOGETMYOWNCHINESEFOODANDYOUCANTHAVEANYBECAUSEIWON’TSHAREANDIDON’TWANNATAKEASHOWERORPUTONMYPAJAMASBECAUSEIWANTCHINESEFOODNOWNOTTOMORROWORNEXTWEEKENDANDISOMEHOWBELIEVETHATYOUDONTLOVEMEBECAUSEIDONTSEEANYCHINESETAKEOUTANYWHEREANDITHINKWESHOULDHAVEICECREAMEVERYDAYISTHATSOWRONGICECREAMEVERYDAY?ANDCHINESEFOOD!

Okay, sweetie. Come with me so I can leave the room and not lose my sht all over this place we can talk more privately. You are right. We are not having Chinese food tonight. I am sorry that makes you mad and sad. And, this behavior is not okay actually it is quite impressive. If you think that acting this way will get you an Oscar or an Emmy a trip to the Chinese Restaurant, you are indeed batsht cray-cray incorrect. Now, are you really throwing a fit over Chinese food? Please know you can tell mommy or Ema absolutely anything in the world about anything and everything, and we will always love you. Always! If I could crawl inside you and see what it feels like to be my Little right now, I would. I want to help you. And you cannot act this way. Okay? Okay, mommy. I’m sorry.

Take some deep elevator breaths and calm down. ( I do them too.) Good. Now Little, is this behavior you are sharing a good choice? No mommy. Is this behavior showing kindness to your family or community?  No mommy. What is the one rule we have in our family? Be kind, mommy. Can we leave the bathroom where I am doing everything humanly possible to not go all meshuggeneh and scream louder than you and Jamie Lee Curtis combined go into the living room with everyone else and be kind now? Yes, mommy

BIGTOUCHEDMYLEGONACCIDENTANDTHENITHOUGHTIWASGOINGTOFALL BUTIDIDNTANDIREALLYTHOUGHTIWASSOISTOPPEDMYSELFFROMFALLINGANDTHENICRASHEDINTOTHEWALLWITHMYELBOWANDTHATREALLYHURT ANDITHOUGHTIWASGOINGTOSEENONATODAYANDTHENYOUSAIDWEARE NOTANDIREALLYWANTTOSEENONAESPECIALLYBECAUSEMYELBOWHURTS SOMUCHANDNONALOVESUSANDGIVESUSTREATSANDITALLSTARTEDWHEN BIGTOUCHEDMEONACCIDENTANDWEDIDNTHAVEANYCHINESEFOODTHE OTHERNIGHTANDNOWITHINKWEMAYNEVERHAVECHINESEFOODEVERAGAINANDTHATSALLIREALLYWANTANDIMTIREDANDNOBODYLOVESMEWHENI SCREAMANDYELLANDKICKLIKETHISWHYDONTYOUJUSTGIVEINLIKEI PLANNEDITHOUGHIWOULDWINBYNOWSOIMGONNAKEEPYELLINGANDGO BONELESSANDBROOKETHENEIGHBORTHATLIVESDOWNSTAIRSCANHITTHE CEILINGALLNIGHTBECAUSEIMNOTSTOPPING!

Consequences for such a performance? No TV. No iPad. No allowance. No play date. Obviously, no Chinese food. No solutions. Nothing works or phases my Little. Oh, she is a strong woman in the making! Somebody, help me?

Enter bathroom scene. Repeat. Oh, how I love this kid of mine!

Yiddish proverb:

If you have nothing to lose, you can try everything. Aoyb ir hot gornisht tsu farlim, ir kenen prubirn alts.

      

      

      

      

Busy, Shmizzy: Eat Together for a Better World

Folks, it’s time for a post update. We still fearlessly, tirelessly, endlessly march on, supping together in hopes of a higher purpose. Manners are hard to come by here at the Manor. This week I see that mac-n-cheese is still perceived and approached as finger food. Opposable thumbs do not impress our small humans. The Mrs., and me, our voices continue to make no sound at all to our giggly little, pierced ears who nosh (eat a little) during this very important nutritional act of derring-do. My glass, it stays half full yes, they spilled again, but I am using the metaphor now

and this is how we eat noodles
and this is how we eat noodles, in stereo with Cousin Max, at a restaurant no less, in public… Oy!

I’m always telling suggesting to the Mrs. about the importance of sitting down together to ess a bissel (eat a little). How we need to dine with the full mishpocheh (family). Studies by big machers (hot shots) like scholars and doctors all laud the big meal get together as the solution to practically all that plagues the planet (don’t get me started, oy vey iz mir).

Jointly sitting and supping brings benefits to the body, brain and overall ‘mini-mojo’ of our kinder (kids). A nice nosh (proper meal) together makes for little Epicureans that become ‘epi-curious’ eaters who will choose more fruits and veggies, and pick less fried foods and sugary beverages. If mealtime is conquered correctly, the consuming kinder (children) are less likely to kvell (be happy) over a ‘happy meal’ that is loaded with tasty toxins, added fats, oils and who the hell knows what other unsavory ingredients. They won’t hunger for the little tchotchkes (small, unnecessary plastic toys), that promote future gluttony and materialism. They will be less likely to become obese. That alone equals a healthier lifestyle with fewer illnesses. Kaynahorah (to ward off evils — like the big C, heart disease and stroke), all this magic with one familial sit down a day?

Wait! There’s more. Those same above-mentioned mavens add that clever conversation over a nice meal boosts vocabulary for our kinder (kids), which makes for stronger, happier readers. Nu? If you can survive manage regular family mealtimes as the kinder mature, higher test scores, better grades and overall academic performance are in your future.

Add an avocado to the meal, and you win top honors in Nobel nutrition.

Well, it is obvious that no maven of any sort has observed the goings on at our little corner of the dining room here at the Manor. The Mrs. and me, we do our best to offer nightly variations of healthy, overly expensive organic suppers while trying to stick to our frugalista rice and beans every night still ways. With you, I must be honest, dinners hock mier en chinikeh (drives me bat-shit crazy). Etiquette and decorum have left the building by this witching hour!

Things usually start smoothly. The girls, they clean up a bit and set the table when we beg, plead and bribe. They help bring out our food (beans and rice). We all sit, and the Mrs. and I, we ask open-ended questions like a job interview to try to get them to respond speak with us. They sit with their knees up, spread eagle (vey iz mir), and have clearly left their listening ears in the ‘OFF’ position. They seem to have their own form of communication that is specifically designed to exclude us. They use their fingers instead of utensils even for soup. In fact, just last night, I was prompted to wax eloquent on the beauty of our opposable thumbs and how they separate us from the animal kingdom in hopes they would just pick up a g-damned fork or a spoon and eat like humans.

Little, she has a tendency to lick random and incredibly disgusting things WTF. She gets up from the table an average of  267 times per meal. She may need more water, go use the bathroom, want something better to eat, have an undeniable urge to dance, jump on the trampoline, or simply incite an enormous giggle-fest with Big. And I won’t kid you when I say it, she ‘toots like a trumpeter’ at the table. My madelah (sweet little girl)!

Big, she started with the whole knees up posture. She may use a fork for a moment or two, then she will quickly resort to her more primal instincts and pick up everything with her fingers, especially condiments. She can tell a story or two during dinner, and get up to act it out, share via interpretive dance, or become totally taken in by the mishegas (craziness) of Little. This leaves the Mrs. and me sitting table-side for what must be days, weeks, months hours, getting all cobwebby, and stiff-jointed, waiting for her to finish the feast.

And mittendrinnen (in the middle of everything), Gatsby, will jump into any temporarily vacated seat, and make a quick and successful quest for any food sitting idle.

Gatsby, on the prowl
Gatsby, on the prowl

The shvesters (sisters) behavior has the Mrs. and me chugging the Apple Cider Vinegar (an excellent indigestion remedy) nightly, straight from the bottle. It’s a mitzvah (good deed) we don’t drink enough or at all!

Lo and behold, we will endure these rituals because we have put our trust in the big macher alrightniks (good people).

Charlotte, she will weave her nightly web around us. We make this sacrifice night after night with the promise that our girls will not engage in high-risk behaviors like smoking, drugs or sex ever, ever, ever. They won’t have depressed or suicidal thoughts. They will avoid bullies at school and online. They will be self-confident and self-loving and avoid eating disorders.

They will be strong, mighty girls who can lean in at any table. And they will have empathy and compassion, because each night, we do our best to make it through another make your own burrito bowl.

I wonder if there are any studies of what happens to us mom’s as we suffer go through this phase?

A bei gezunt (Live and be well).

 

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Start spreading the news

Shtik naches: Relatives who give you great pleasure and joy! From the top: Shvoger, (left) Shvester, me, (left) Little and Big. My Mrs., she took the picture.

Today’s post is a direct result of the single most, positive, life changing visit to Boulder, CO. We went to see my shvester (sister) and schvoger (brother-in-law) and had an absolutely wonderful time.  I cannot begin to thank them for their love, kindness, support, generosity, and of course, laughter. Oh, and Alex, my ‘budmaster’ from #FreshBaked, thank you too! You see, on my shvester’s birthday, her birthday mind you, they gave me the greatest gift of all time. The gift of feeling absolutely pain-free — no side effects, no cognitive impairment… medical marijuana in the form of CBD. I felt human for the first time in over three decades. A mitzvah (good deed) like no other. To my mishpocheh (shvester and schvoger), words cannot convey my love and gratitude.

To the tune of New York, New York please, maestro (tap, tap, tap, begin):

Start spreading the news, I’m human again
It’s been a life of chronic pain, now I feel great
This Philly based girl, has found a new zen
Right in the heart of Colorado, a legal bud state
I wanna wake up in a place where I’m pain-free
And find I’m living out loud, happy, carefree
Nerve pain in my neck, has won out, too long
I see why people up and move, near a dispensary
If weed could, help me along, with a pill and, not a bong
CBD my friend, makes me pain-free
If I can, feel good there
I should be able to, feel good, everywhere
It’s up to you, P.A., P.A.
I want to wake up, in a city, where I can get
CBD pills. Pain melts away. No high or munchies. Pain melts away!
If I can, feel good there
I should be able to, feel good, everywhere
It’s up to you, P.A., P.A.

Slang words for marijuana: green goddess, bud, grass, herb, weed, pot, wacky-tobacky.

Some links to learn more about medical marijuana:

Go in good health. Gai gezunterheit. And know this yiddisheh momma is gonna fight like hell to keep feeling this good. And to allow others to get relief too.

     

      

      

  

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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The first Tuesday after the first Monday…

Vote on Tuesday, everyone, please!
Vote on Tuesday, everyone, please!

Du zalst nisht bu, Shtimen! Don’t boo, Vote!

I share the sentiment of the quote above, by President Barack Hussein Obama. I can only hope that everyone of voting age here in the US, living abroad, or via absentee ballot, exercises their civic duty and votes on Tuesday, November 8th, if not before. We have a democracy, so dammit, go out and vote!

There are many more of you than I’d like to admit, that I staunchly disagree with in your choice of nominees. That gives me great shpilkis (stomach upset, jittery) as we approach the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, election day.

What I do know is that I am sick and tired of hearing about the lies of crooked Hillary. I am sick of the Donald getting a free ride in the media, even after the famed, “I grab them by the pussy” tapes and the uprising of victims saying, “uh, Yeah! He does!”

I am so exhausted by the Wikileaks emails from famed ‘nasty woman’ Hillary? Have you read any of them? I hope you are sitting down, because this stuff is hard to take in:

  • She was eager desperate to help a 10-year old girl from Yemen who managed to get a divorce (she was fucking 10 years old) have a better life, get to the US, attend school and seek counseling
  • She was finding ways to help dying patients get faster medical care, food and water in Haiti after the terrible earthquakes
  • She wanted to put a stop to child trafficking in Haiti
  • She worried about the closing of a home for abused boys in Illinois
  • She planned her daughter’s wedding

She was checked, examined, poked, prodded and cleared — unable to indict of any wrong doing. FBI case closed.

Now because of yet another misogynistic texting perv, Anthony Weiner (duly named), she comes under fire and examination yet again, causing a spiraling fall in the polls. The emails in question belong to close Clinton staffer of decades, Huma Abedin, and her estranged, very strange hubby. Emails were found on the laptop and iPad of Weiner. I sure hope they washed their hands after picking up those bits of technology! This new FBI action comes with no evidence of any wrongdoing by Hillary, or even a single connection. Comey, the FBI double-naught spy in question said, “They appear to be pertinent.” He said this without ANY examination at all of said emails. With four days until the election, it still remains unclear if these alleged emails found have anything to do with Hillary and if there is enough antibacterial soap to help those who handled them.

Yesterday, Melania Trump stumped in mainline Berwyn, PA. Wearing a very tight, pink blouse, she spoke eloquently to a room filled with Trump supporters, mostly men clad in red Trump hats. She spoke out against bullying. For real! She did. Bullying. Alanis, please add this to your song about irony. This epitomizes irony! Her hubby, the Donald, is the most infamous bully of our time.

Perhaps Melania doesn’t know her hubby very well. Perhaps he has moved on to a younger, more cleavaged immigrant and this has caused her to forget his xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, anti-disabled, anti-LGBT, anti-Muslim, anti-Black, anti-Latino, anti-Mexican, pro-violence, and lying, cheating flip-flopping ways.

And while the world is immersed in the email scandals, lest we forget Trump’s:

  • Fraud scandal at Trump University
  • Declaration of bankruptcy 6 times
  • Rape case of a minor pending in federal court
  • 75 open pending lawsuits against him and his businesses
  • Trump Foundation activity
  • Inability to show us his tax returns
  • Ties to the Kremlin

Those of you dumb enough wasting your vote on the Green Party, did you know they just endorsed Trump? So even before, when we told you a vote for Green was a vote for Trump, now there is direct proof.

Which brings us to Tuesday, one of the single most volatile days for our country. A day that will truly go down in infamy. A day I fear. If you care about women, equal rights, healthcare, marriage equality, global warming, black lives matter, religious freedoms, the Supreme Court, any of the freedoms we have won over the last 8 years, and the generations to follow in our footsteps, please choose Hillary. Even if you don’t like her.

Please don’t fall for that reality show dolt who basically, day in and day out: Du kanst nicht oif meinem fus pishen und mir sagen klass es regen ist. He pees on your foot and tells you it’s raining.

What’s worse? Too many of you believe him.

Big, Little and the Mrs. Photo credit: @willowandsage1 on IG (my Mrs.)
Please help me protect my mishpocheh (family) Big, Little and the Mrs.   Photo credit: @willowandsage1 on IG (my Mrs.)

And my last plea before I enter the polls on Tuesday is this: If you care about my family, The Mrs., me, Little and Big, please vote for Hillary. I am one proud, nasty woman who applauds the pant suit crowd and will happily pull the lever for our first ever, incredibly qualified, woman president. 

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Wordless Wednesdays: Life is a Bargain!

Lebn iz de greste metsye. Mir nemen es far gornisht. Life is the greatest bargain. We get it for nothing.

Please, can I come trick or treating with you...Pretty please.
Please, can I come trick or treating with you…Pretty please. Really.

Sleepovers, movies, and friends
Sleep-overs, movies, and friends

Windows update?
Windows update? Or a piece of sky…

Ladies who lunch...or sip?
Ladies who lunch…or sip?

Up we go...
Up we go…

Luka, watch me!
Watch me! I said watch me!

No, it's run, run, skip. Run, run, skip.
No, it’s run, run, skip. Run, run, skip.

Photo-bombed by Gatsby!
Photo-bombed by Gatsby again!

Lebn aun zei gezunt! Live and be well!

 

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UPDATE: The Rule of Kind

Silly shvesters
Silly shvesters

A Kinder Kinder 

I thought now a good time to provide you all with some good, hard data anecdotal evidence on how we are doing as a family, with our one, single, solitary family rule: BE KIND. Some of you may recall this inspired post meant to get our little mishpocheh (family) out from under the tiny terroristic grip of Big and Little’s mood swings, urges and tantrums and back to the matriarchal quasi-control of the mamelehs (me and the Mrs.).

It was mid-August. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. We were feeling the worst of the heat, reeling from the weariness of endless pool days and we had hit the ceiling on late night movies. The kinderlech (kids) and the Mrs. had become nocturnal. By the time I joyfully strolled up the Manor steps after a hard days work, it was batshit crazy with a capital BAT all hell had broken loose. We had grown accustomed to our tsuris (troubles). It was pure mishegas (insanity and chaos).

Dos leben iz vi kinderhemdel—kurts un bash. Life is like a child’s undershirt—short and soiled.

Shvesters and goodies
Shvesters and sugar

Be Kind. How f@cking hard is that to do? I knew we could do it. I believed. The first coupla’ weeks were exhausting and awful filled with tears, apologies and repetition of our golden rule. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind.

Siri, How long until something basic, simplistic, and all encompassing becomes a damned habit?

It’s a shondah (pity) how my Little and Big, such sweet little maidelahs (girls), put each other through fisticuffs, scuffles, scrapes and screeches. Glass shattering screams, pushes, slaps and hair pulling. (It’s almost as if they had watched old reruns of Dynasty from the ’80’s?) I cried me a river. So did the nextdoorikeh’s (neighbors).

Time went on, as it does. We stuck to our one rule. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Patience. We had such effing patience! We were so very, very virtuous with all of our patience. And then, it started. 

  • Listening ears, they listened
  • We heard ‘Please’ and ‘Thank You’ fairly consistently
  • ‘I’m sorry’ flowed from their tiny little mouths appropriately and sincerely
  • Random acts of kindness happened without begging, yelling, nudging, cajoling any parental prodding
  • When Little ate all of her marshmallows before the hot chocolate was ready, Big happily handed her a handful of hers
  • When Big cried about not wanting to take a shower, Little volunteered to take one with her
  • They shared
  • If one was in need, the other helped
  • When one hurts, the other says, Vu tut dir vai (where does it hurt)?
  • If we said clean your room, they did it together

It was working. Be Kind. Be Kind. Be Kind. Slowly and steadily our kinder (children) began to treat each other as if we were not behind the walls of the Manor, but as if we were in public and on their best behavior! They began to give one another the benefit of the doubt. My little bubbelah’s (term of endearment) were becoming menches (good, respected people) to one another. Loving shvesters (sisters), friends.

Shvesters plotting
Shvesters plotting

Now, I do not for one minute want you to think that we are all hotsy-totsy and blissful over here. We still have plenty of our moments. We will always have work to do and we still can be kinder, gentler, nicer and more empathetic. But so far, dos gefelt mir (this pleases me) very much! I’m kvelling (oozing with pride)!

Be Kind. Zeit gezunt (Be healthy)!

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The Great Pumpkin: Wordless Wednesday

Linus: “Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He’s gotta pick this one. He’s got to. I don’t see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there’s not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see.”

The Great Gatsby 'Tail-o-meter' at work
The Great Gatsby ‘Tail-o-meter’ at work

We got 'em Moms
We picked ’em Moms

I think we've been here before
I think we’ve been here before

Potter. Harry Potter.
Potter. Harry Potter.

Is it Hedwig?
Is it Hedwig?

All play an no work make us Miquon Kids!
Even work is play with Little and Big!

Altz iz gut (all is good)!

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Good Luck, Bad Luck: Wordless Wednesday

It's a Marvelous night for a moon dance
It’s a Marvelous night for a moon dance

Oops. She found me...
Oops. She found me…

So this is where they live?
So this is where they live?

Flying in a blur...
Flying in a blur…

They deserve so many freedoms -- family equality among them
They deserve so many freedoms — family equality among them

You gotta have heart!
You gotta have heart!

This tree missed me and Gatsby by 6 inches, literally! Good luck! Bring it on.
This tree missed me and Gatsby by 6 inches, literally! Good luck! Bring it on.

In a guter sho tsu reden; in a baizer sho tsu shveigen. In a lucky time it’s good to talk; in an unlucky time, it’s better to be silent. 

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Wordless Wednesdays: Clever Children

Oy, A gezunt dir in kepele! Are you ever a clever child!

If we keep eating the jelly beans in the back, Mommy and Ema will never notice
If we keep eating the jelly beans in the back, Mommy and Ema will never notice

Learning some new dance moves from our new friends Fara and Mercedes
Learning some new dance moves from our new friends, Fara and Mercedes

So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodnight...
So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodnight… Thank You O’Malley’s! ❤

I don't want to smile. I want to be grumpy and I will be grumpy all day
I don’t want to smile. I want to be grumpy and I will be grumpy all day

Charlotte's house flooded...
Charlotte’s house must have flooded Mommy…

Processed with Snapseed.
Mommy, look at me…

L’Shona Tova! Happy New Year!

 

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Wordless Wednesday: Let’s have fun!

Butterfly birthday...flutterby
Butterfly birthday…flutterby

In the 'hood
In the ‘hood

Toga Party!
Toga birthday party for E and Z!

Mini toga's too
Mini toga’s too

The Minotaur waits in the maze
The Minotaur waits in the maze at the Goddess toga party

Me and Little
Me and my Little

The kinderlech (children), they should play and be happy! Us too!

 

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Auditions Today!

Nutcracker tryouts
Nutcracker try-outs

It’s September again; the stores, they started it first

Christmas, its here and now it’s time to rehearse

Find the nice tights, leotards; put buns in their hair

It’s Nutcracker tryouts — hurry, hurry, let’s prepare

 

Every Sunday from now, right up to those two special days

They’ll practice away in their sugarplum haze

We’ll leave other events early with a sigh or a pout

And arrive at the studio to grand jeté about

 

As the music is cranked our smiles quickly return

It’s Tchaikovsky we hear, so many new parts to be learned

The Littles and Bigs, they will dance with the Donetsk ballet

As they show the story of a girl, her gift and her dream in a magical way

 

My sweet little maidelahs making Yuletide traditions

Sharing steps with Ukrainian mavens, in Balanchine’s celebrated positions

A mouse and a cook for my Big this holiday season, My Little a polichinelle and a small doll

Two roles, two acts, and two costumes for each, making memories, having fun, above all

 

In theatre with stage sets that ‘wows’ every viewer, this Yiddisher momma, oy how I’ll kvell

Come one, come all, grab a seat and enjoy, such nachas can only make you feel well

The Holiday season is right smack dab on us; the emmes truth, we couldn’t be cheerier

Vas, like you have something better to do? Not when the Wissahicken Dance Academy is so superior!

 

A bei gezunt to all (You should all be healthy)!

 

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Wordless Wednesday: Play Children, Play!

Dedicated to beloved children's' book writer Anna Dewdney. Read a book to your kids today.
Dedicated to beloved children’s’ book writer, Anna Dewdney. Read a book to your kids today.

Shvesters
Shvesters

Look papa!
Look papa!

oh, I can do this!
Oh, Papa can do this!

Playing at tryouts
Playing at Nutcracker tryouts

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Spinach!

This vision of real life is brought to you by Big. No spinach was injured (or eaten) during this display. Big, oh how I love you my bubbelah (sweet girl)!

Spinach! I don't like spinach!
Spinach! I don’t like spinach!

It's not fair!
It’s not fair!

*Es nisht di khale far a moitse. Don’t eat the challah before you’ve made the blessing. (*McKay and Gabe, this is for you!)

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Swimming Upstream

always upstream, oy vey
Always upstream, oy vey iz mir

It’s been a fucking lifetime few weeks now of life as a salmon, swimming against the tide of bureaucratic bullshit on numerous life levels. Paperwork perdition. Righting wrongs, with only a small success to keep my spirit motivated. I fear losing some of my much called upon ‘glass half-full’ skills. I’ve been a salmon so long now, I cannot even appreciate a nice nosh (snack) of lox and bagels with a shmear…Oy vey iz mir.

  • IRS: the Mrs., and me, we filed our 2015 tax return in February of 2016. Twenty-one days is what the website said. I’ve always been an early filer. I pay what we owe and I look forward to our return. Never have we as a family been so in need of said gelt (money) from the return than this year. Please understand, as of this writing, it is now mid-September of 2016. That’s 21 days plus almost 7 months, and still going. Talk about red tape! I’ve spoken to my accountant more times than both he and I care for… Maybe he even blocked my number by now. I’ve gone many a day to irs.gov, clicked on ‘Find my refund’ (the fact that they have that as a button option, I’m just sayin’) and get the same message every time: Your tax return has not yet been processed. I called the IRS back in March of this year and found a live person, who was kind and apologetic. I let him know my story and he searched high and low, keeping me on the phone for almost 3 hours. He found out that my return was placed in some holding purgatory for those who have had experienced identity theft!

My heart pounded, “What, someone stole my identity and has my return?” “No, it was just a random pull”, he replied. “Let me see what I can do to get this processed for you”. I took his name and badge number and felt we were on our way. He said, “Call, and just ask for me by my badge number.”

That was March. Now, I dial the many IRS numbers I have amassed, and get 85+ different prompts, all of which I have tried, and none of which lead me to an actual live person. I fear for my badge-numbered friend. I go through the ‘find the status of my refund’ prompt, and nu, I get: Your tax return has not yet been processed. I called the phone number of the local IRS department, and I got a recording saying, ‘This phone number does not offer phone support.What the fuck! I even tried the phone number for the hearing impaired. After all, even the IRS would be nice to the hearing impaired, right? Not so much. When the machine picked up, it let out a blaring sound, like a ship at sea (warning poor schlemeils (fools) like me, mere salmon still going upstream) to move aside. My right ear, it still rings. And yes, dejectedly, I am still swimming.

photo by @willowandsage1 follow on instagram
photo by @willowandsage1 follow her on instagram (the Mrs.)

  • Botox: As many of you know, I get Botox injections (no, my face is like a google map!) to assist in chronic neck/head pain, cervical dystonia, etc. Due to the cost prohibitive nature of this treatment, Allergan, the company that makes the injections of botulism that relieve the pain to passable life levels, offers a subsidy for those who are green-gelt impaired. An incorrect diagnosis code has bolloxed my Botox, leaving my pain plan in a perpetual place of purgatory, like the above referenced tax return gelt (loot). I call, I write, I beg, and I remain without treatment. No one should know of such pain. If you want to click here or here, you can learn more about how wonderful Botox is for my chronic pain.

Getting un-towed, not so easy
Getting un-towed, not so easy

  • The Car Tow: So as not to be deemed a total whiner, let me tell you now, this one ends with a Mitzvah (in a win, a good deed)! My Mrs., she had a lovely day at the shore with friends right at the end of the summer. She left early to get there and got home late in the evening, making memories of fun and laughter with good friends, Little and Big. She arrived back at the Manor and there was not one parking space available. In fact people were parked sideways, on the grass, and in the fire lanes. Half asleep, I grumbled, “Leave the car in the stairway spot. There are no signs saying ‘no parking’ and you can move it in the morning.” She awoke to a car towed and the start of a fight with the 4th management company to take charge here at the Manor since our sojourn began. We talked to Katrina, the new manager. She could give two shits about us or our car. We begged for her to get the car released as she did for two other families before us.  I contacted Katrina’s boss. No response. Our car was gone, and we needed $200 to free it from this unfortunate and unnecessary incarceration. This timing, it was not so good for us in the gelt department. The next week, we searched under sofa cushions and on the floors of our cars to scrape by — no joke. The fight, it continued. Went on for weeks. The neighbors, they all complained. We did not relent, and we finally got word, today, that we will be credited $200 towards next month’s rent. Azoy! (Huzzah!)

There’s more, but this seems like just enough. End on a good note.

Tsum shtain zol men klogen nor nit bei zikh zol men trogen. Better pour out your troubles to a stone, but don’t carry them within yourself. So, I’m pouring. Thanks for reading! 

Wishing you all a tsuris (trouble) free time. A bei gezunt (Be in good health).

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Car Seats and Kids: Both the 2-legged and 4-legged kind

My Little being silly
My Little being silly. Oh how she loves her Gatsby!

Injury prevention in cars is a big deal. Seat belts really do safe lives. People on the roadways are especially meshuggeneh (nuts) and have too many reasons to take their eyes off the road. They are texting, shaving, applying make-up, taking conference calls, checking their noses for schmutz (dirt, like bears in the cave) and managing to find the teeny, tiny toy the kinder (children) have dropped to the floor with the one free arm that isn’t holding a scalding hot, freshly brewed latte. It’s a nightmare, or day-mare, depending on your driving routine.

By law, kids today will be in rear facing car seats until we take them for their driver’s permit. Then, and only then, will they be front facing and in a belt-positioning booster. As we drop them off at college or university, they will hopefully meet the height and weight criteria to be properly belted in as an adult. Oy!

I have a pretty good view here
I have a pretty good view here

Thinking further about car safety for Fido (or in my case, Gatsby), this Yiddisher Momma believes that kinder (sweet children) of all kinds need protection too. Enter the K9CarFence.

A hunt iz a mol getrei’er fun a kind. A dog is sometimes more faithful than a child. 

I had the pleasure of meeting Ira Stahl, owner and inventor of this harness-free, crash-tested, made in the USA, pooch protection when he was making a service call as an electrician at my work. Who knew this mild-mannered mensch (good guy) was electrician by day, and K9 superhero by night! We all got to schmoozing (talking) as people do, and this electrical maven (expert) mentioned his groundbreaking invention to help the doggies of the world travel safely in cars. My eyes lit-up! Gutinue (OMG)! I must have one for my Gatsby! After much nachas (joy and pleasure) shared over my 4-legged boychik (little boy) and Ira’s two little loves, it was agreed Ira would give my Gatsby the safety and security of his own K9CarFence TLC-2X in return for a product review.

What the, what the???
What the, what the???

I said, Ira, “I gotta be honest to my readers.” He was confident, and came within the next few days to install a brand new K9 CarFence in my car. Five minutes, he was done! He explained every step of the easy installation, and off he went.

We have now had this gem for some 3+ weeks and I have only great things to say. In fact, I’m kvelling (bursting with pride) over this safety fence. The first time in my car, Gatsby was not a happy camper and tried desperately to escape. He was used to laptop sitting (dangerous!) and snuggling. By the second ride in his enclosure, he was much more at ease. He could see us through the mesh and look out the window. By the third time, it was his throne! He owned it and walked in with pride. I lowered the window a bissel (bit) — he happily sniffed outside, and then settled into his ‘circle pose’ of rest. Canine shavasana! I added a blanket that he nuzzles, settles and snuggles, safe and sound. My Gatsby hound.

Look at that sun!
Look at that sun! I wouldn’t have noticed that before on Momma’s lap

Canine babies need their own place in the car too. Who would dare let their tiny human flop about in the back seat like I did as a kid? My Big and Little, shana maidelahs (beautiful girls) that they are, have been restrained by the very best. Now, they are bubbellahs (sweeties) in boosters. We strap in and click. What, the Gatsby’s of the world don’t need such protection? Of course they do! Dogs are good people!

The benefits of enclosing your pooch in the car with a K9 CarFence is very much like that of your kinder (children) in their car seats:

  • Holds them in one secure place as you drive
  • Confining comfortably protects them from acting as a projectile in case of a collision
  • Prevents them from climbing into your lap and stealing your sanity nudjing (pestering) you
  • One less thing to be distracted about while driving
  • Safeguards them from the impact of sudden or unexpected stops
  • In the case of an accident, kaynahorah, pthui, pthui, pthui (it shouldn’t happen), they stay confined, preventing further catastrophic incidents like running into traffic and possibly causing another crash pthui, pthui, pthui
  • Traffic violations for driving with a dog that is not properly restrained/confined range in price from $25 to $1000. Ouch!

The K9 CarFence is like a comfy den for your dog. Have a bigger dog? They have options my lovers of furry friends. The TLC-2X fits both front and back seat. As an added bonus, its durable and lightweight construction protects your car interior as it comforts your fur-baby.

I heartily recommend the K9 CarFence for the safe ride and peace of mind you have while driving alongside everyone’s best friend. My Gatsby, he gives a hearty 4 paws up! And the Mrs. and the kinder, they love it too! In dog we trust.

Please know, as in all of my writing, all opinions are my own. If you should agree with me, we are all the better! Either way, I’d love to hear read your comments! Nu? I can take it!

Ven dos mazel kumt, shtel im a shtul. If fortune calls, offer him a seat.

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The Rule of Kind

teeny, tiny terrorists disguised as dainty, delightful maidelehs (sweet little girls)
Do not be taken in by the glitter and glee. These are cute, covert, teeny, tiny terrorists disguised as dainty, delightful maidelehs (sweet little girls) that rob us of our sanity ❤

By midsummer, things were getting a bit unsteady around the Manor. When I’d get home from work, the Mrs., she would have ‘the look.’ You know the one. It’s mostly in the eyes, but her face, oy vey; it gets so ashen and screams of defeat. It’s as if her pupils’ turn into little waving white flags, I give! Uncle! Calgon, take me away!” (Note: if you are not living life as a baby boomer, Calgon was marketed to females only as the answer to life’s woes in the form of a bubble bath). It’s a strong tell for me that the Littles had spent yet another day as tiny behavioral terrorists, ignoring all forms of vocal messaging from the mother ship until things got bat-shit crazy. Tears have fallen from all six eyes, Gatsby hides under the bed, and then, only then, do apologies abound from two miniature mouths.

Life without the chaos routine of school and all it’s afternoon extracurricular activities was affecting us all. The Mrs. and me, we needed to lay down the law. While not outnumbered, and still holding a slight edge in altitude, we needed some household rules. Over dinner, a purely shpilkes (anxiety, ants in the pants kind of feeling) producing activity referred to in a past post, I broached the topic of developing martial law some guidelines to help us all through sanity our cohabitation. I needed ‘buy in’ fast, so I said to Little and Big, as I made those eyes to the Mrs., you know the ones that say please, please, please… just go with me on this, “You two get to set the rules on how we are going to get along. Mommy and Ema need your help.” I begged, “Think about it now and let’s discuss how this is going to work.” And the Littles, they spoke, excitedly:

  • Always listen to Mommy and Ema
  • Don’t interrupt when anyone is talking
  • Clean up after we play
  • Answer your questions and look at you in the eyes
  • Clean our room after our friends come over or we made a mess
  • Don’t hurt Gatsby, or pull his tail, or poke him or yank his ears or put our hands in his mouth
  • No kicking or hitting or spitting
  • Share more and don’t say ‘mine’
  • No screaming because we have neighbors
  • Don’t jump on the sofa
  • Say I’m sorry like we mean it
  • When Mommy and Ema say it’s bedtime, we have to get ready for bed

They do listen. They just don’t do. We both applauded their thoughtfulness and went about our evening foolishly thinking, we rocked this! And then two minutes later… not so much.

I sadly looked over all of our house rules, and then came up with an idea. At the next meal (Jews, we always have to eat while doing important things, or at least talk about where we will next eat, or what we just ate), I bring it up:

All of the rules we discussed are wonderful and I think there are too many to remember? Why don’t we start with just one rule?

  1. Be kind

And don’t you know, about two weeks in, we are living life so much better, with two simple words…

Even with this killer watch dog, those thugs came after us!
Even with this killer watch dog, those thugs came after us!

Now, mittendrinnen (in the middle of) this mishegas (craziness), my Mrs., she loses both her credit card and her bankcard. Now, was it not just two weeks ago when I shared with you the struggles of the missing wallet? Oy vey (sheesh). In a freakish, ominous ‘take 2’ moment, we found ourselves at the same movie theatre, to see the same movie, Pete’s Dragon. This time, the hooligans who found her goods were not as nice as the previous Good Samaritan. They bee-lined it to Best Buy and did some substantial ‘best-buying.’ Over $2000 worth… enough damage to give us our own detective!

We are now without a credit card or cash and are fighting fraud. Our frugalista status has reached a record new low. The Mrs., she is distraught in a new way. I remember it is not her fault.

There is a genetic marker on her very DNA strand, aligned with both her mother and her sister – a truly unfair predisposition to the mis-placement of important items. Latin name, ‘vitalgoneastrayitis.’ They suffer.

Me, I thankfully also remember our house rule, be kind.

A shtikel mazel iz vert merer vi a ton gold. A little bit of luck is better than a ton of gold.

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Wordless Wednesday: Oh the places we go

mt airy fest

big at the fest

music

little in car

look whose tooth came out...
look whose tooth came out…

Wiss 1

log play

log play color

what is it

Gat

wiss walk

cicada season

mush

Oib di velt vet verren oisgelaizt, iz es nor in zechus fun kinder (If the world will ever be redeemed, it will be only through the merit of children).

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You gotta have heart

image 

Oy. It’s only Tuesday and it’s already been some week. Little and Big, they are getting a little bit of shpilkes (like ants in your pants when it’s the littles) as summer winds down. The Mrs., and me we are a bit unnerved to say the least. These little shana maidels (sweet, beautiful girls) of ours, truly are wonderful little humans. And like all of you out there, we have our moments. You may have read about our dinner table tsuris (troubles) a couple of posts back. As they say, a work in progress? Nu?

I understand now why all adult characters on the Peanuts, you know, Charlie Brown, Lucy, and Linus, they all sound like,”Wah wah wah wah wah, wah wah.” It was an actual trombone they used to make the sound. That trombone is what our voices sound like to the kinder (kids)! Charles Schultz, he knew this way back when, that the kids drown out our voices with selective hearing. Snoopy is now 66 years old and lives in a retirement village with Peppermint Patti in Boca.

Until yesterday, it has been 192 degrees in the shade. Walking from the apartment to the car was enough to make you plotz (faint, or even drop dead). The water at the pool was near boiling, less than refreshing. My Mrs., perhaps inspired by the Olympics, she set up a gymnastics area in our hallway here at the Manor. The mini indoor trampoline leads into the ‘exercise mat,’ also known as the bottom of the trundle bed. The girls, they bounce and jump and kick and land in cartwheels, somersaults, flip-flops and triple double axles. It’s a lovely release of energy, a heart-starter and somewhat quiet in comparison to the,”Wah wah wah wah wah, wah wah” that has been going on, and ignored. My Mrs., a genius!

Mittendrinnen (in the middle of everything), I have been experiencing heart palpitations for the past thirty-six four months. It’s not enough to just have chronic pain and all the joy that comes along with that… I had to go ‘all-extracurricular’ and add a new medical ‘–ist’ to the team line up. After meeting yesterday with the cardiologist, they ran some tests, looked at my blood and ordered a halter monitor for me to wear for 2 weeks. Things look okay, but who’s to say? The doc, he says, “Do you have a lot of stress? Are you sleeping well?” What a jokester he is!

Ven tsores laigt zikh nit oifen ponem, laigt zikh es oifen hartsen (When distress doesn’t show on the face, it lies on the heart).

Apparently, I’m a chaleria (nervous, anxious wreck) on the inside only, from this thing called life, or at least the last couple of years. And it may be manifesting in the lub-dub, lub-dub of my very own Tell-Tale Heart. I get a call a few hours later from the heart monitor people who are setting up my delivery. They tell me my out-of-pocket expenses after insurance for this little device will be only $860 and change. Are they fucking nuts? We don’t have that kid of loot! This baby is a beauty, she records every blip, 24/7.

Elizabeth, this is the big one. I’m coming to join you!” (For all of you non-baby-boomers, this is a television reference to Sanford and Son.)

The 'Post-It Note' model, easy and affordable
The ‘Post-It Note’ model, easy and affordable

This fabulous pain point delivered directly to me from my brand new –ist! Is he kidding me? Who makes this MCOT unit, Rolex? What’s a frugalista momma to do? I dry the sweat from my forehead and dial-up Dr. Fancypants. I have to ask if there is another option? Of course, he has left for the day. Nu? I speak with his nurse and she tries to help me out. Lub-dub, lub-dub. A few moments later, I get another call from the monitor people. I’m still breathing, barely, and they tell me what good news they have for me! There is a cheaper version! Azoy (really)! It’s called the ‘Event’ monitor. It only records when there is a not so hotsy-totsy incident, like a skipped beat, added beats, or maybe a flat line. This one, a real bargain at only $187. Oy vey iz mir.

A bei gezunt (as long as you’re healthy). Lub-dub, lub-dub.

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Loose tooth, Lost wallet, Lots of drama

Big, Little and the Mrs. Photo credit: @willowandsage1 on IG (my Mrs.)
Big, Little and the Mrs. Photo credit: @willowandsage1 on IG (my Mrs.)

This week, oy vey, has been kurtser prolog tsu a lange drame (a short prologue to a long drama). Did I mention it’s only Thursday, in the very early, dark hours of morning? So far, we have had too many fits of tsuris (troubles and woes). Here, I share only two of them… I’m certain the others will find their way to you soon.

  1. My Big, oh how I love this madelah (sweet little girl), such a tender, sensitive soul, just like my Mrs. The other day, she realizes with some excitement, that another tooth in front has become wiggly, jiggly. The top two have been missing since early spring and maybe, just maybe, one of them is budding through the surface. The very small chiclet just next to the gaping hole, it teeters just a bissel (little). In my classic ‘glass half full’ style, I talk about readying for the pending tooth fairy visit. I even channel grandpa from Hotel Transylvania 2, and comment how she is a “late-fanger, just like Dennisovich.” My Little, she laughs. Big, she becomes nervous and taken in by the pain that may occur at some point, may not. The tears, they pour like a river. The moans, academy award winning whimpers these are! And mittendrinnen (just in the middle), we are struggling through making our best effort at dinnertime (see post about mealtime).

My Big, with the gaping whole...
My Big, in happier times with the gaping hole…

The Mrs. and I, we attempt to soothe the suffering with little success. The food hurts. The water hurts. The tongue in her mouth hurts. Little, she offers up an ice pack to chew on. I whisper to the Mrs., “I think for this one, I should get the crutches, nu?” After the piercing screams of anguish dust settles, she eats. We eat. And that Little, she whispers to us both, “Try not to remind her about her tooth tonight.”

Wink, wink, nod.

Matt and Brooke, who live right below us here at the Manor, please accept this blog post as an open apology for the noise. We feel your pain too!

My Little, a sweet little jokester
My Little, a sweet little jokester madelah!

  1. Next up, Wednesday morning at work, I get a frantic call from the Mrs. She has lost her wallet. Have I seen it? Please note: I am not at all alarmed at this point. My Mrs., she misplaces things. Her iPhone, her keys, her credit card. It is not her fault. There is a genetic marker on her very DNA strand, aligned with both her mother and her sister – a truly unfair predisposition to the mis-placement of important items. Latin name, vitalgoneastrayitis. They suffer.

We retrace her steps. Together, we realize she has not reached for her wallet since Sunday. Three days ago. This news makes my inner frugalista do the happy dance at work, right in the conference room a little bit happy. That is a big mitziah (huge honking deal). After she and the kinder (kids) toss the house like the feds searching for Hillary’s emails and come up empty, we talk again. We narrow it down to the only two places on earth it must be: The movies or the diner. Now, I am staying very calm, while visualizing the process of recovering our soon to be, or already stolen identities. Poor schleps (fools), when they realize who they are stealing from, oy vey. Pick someone a little more moneyed, wontcha? Little, in the midst of the madness, gets all of her hard earned gelt (cash), and offers it to a very upset Mrs. These kids are just too sweet for words. Such nachas (joy) they give me.

She calls the diner, gornischt (nothing). Simultaneously, I am preparing a gentle and composed catalogue of all the places, people and institutions she will need to call in order to make this right in the world, within the next 5 to seven minutes. She dials the Plymouth Meeting AMC Mega-Metro Movie theatre, where we saw Pete’s Dragon (such a wonderful movie!). Would you believe, she finds a person, not a recording? She asks, they answer (cue the band). Whoever cleaned the theatre after the 3:30 pm show, found her wallet, fully intact, and placed it in the lost-and-found. A real mensch (truly a good-hearted person) in the midst! We are sending a gift once we find the name of our hero!

Oy, how I can go on… But for now, let’s all rest easy knowing all is temporarily in good stead. A bei gezunt (may health be with you)!

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