I’ve been a bit quiet of late, and yet I still have so much to say… Join me as we walk around our new neighborhood. The weather is good and we are exploring!
A heart that loves is always young. A hartz az lib iz shtendik iung.
There is nothing more spring-like the falling of pink snow from the trees. Perhaps unicorns come next? Look, how my Little, she eats up this moment! As thick as that pink snow that lies upon the ground is the pollen that is filling my throat.
Shpilkes: (Ants in your pants) That feeling my Little one gets when I ask her to sit, for just one small second, at the library… Big, she welcomes the opportunity.
We have the very best newly refurbished library right around the bend from us! What a gift.
A meowing cat can’t catch mice. A kas vos m’yavket ken kain meiz nit chapen.
Those green eyes, they caught me curbside as we walked by. This guy had no shpilkes, stopping for a photo.
We were potchki-ing (poking, looking) around for some plants for the yard, and look at the maidelah’s(sweet girls) I spied, with my own little eye.
We simply couldn’t decide yet. I think we need to draw a plan, and we must involve hydrangea.
A story without a moral is like a meal without a sweet dish. A mayseh on a moshi iz vi a moltsayt on a tsimes.
Did you know, I can get these girls to walk Gatsbyanywhere if there is ice cream involved! Nu? It’s win-win for us all! We walk a mile, we nosh (grab a snack), we walk another mile. Then me and my Mrs., we get the benefits of tired kinder (kids) and tired pooch. ❤
Spring has sprung! And, it’s almost as lovely as the joy of seeing these two being so happy to be together. I’d like to say that happens all of the time I’d be lying through my teeth, but I’ll take it when I see it!
Where does it lead to? Vas iz dir takhlis?
Said Gatsby, never… He is just happy to be outside and surrounded by his mishpocheh (family). As for me, I feel the exact same way!
The bitterest misfortune can be covered up with a smile. Dem bitersten mazel ken men farshtellen mil a schmaichel
My nephew, Benny, he taught my Little that fortunes from a fortune cookie will only come true if you wet them, stick them to your forehead, and let them dry until they fall off. Well as you can see, she bought into the dream! I love the added lip action, for drama!
Where does the time go… 24/7 is our new normal? Oy, fraig nisht (don’t ask). Eighty-one years is the average age of life on this planet in the U.S. its probably much less with mrt at the helm to live. If you’re a man, you get an average of 78.7 years. How many heartbeats? How do we spend our time? What makes us happy? What constitutes a life well lived? These answers change from person to person, and I have been doing a lot of mulling this over of late. So much so, my head hurts (se tit meer vay der kop).
Everyone’s road is different. Life, it is filled with zillions of invisible tugs of war, pulling and tugging at us — some good, some not so much. Sometimes we fly through tsuris (trouble) with ease, other times, we need more agility — extra adeptness, newfound compassion, empathy.
Can we get balance among the commotion? When do we know what feels good and what hurts, pains us? What about ethics, morals, values, pain, conflict, money, love, empathy, gratitude, compassion…is there a pattern? There is no manual, I do know that…
If our time is finite, we probably should handle it with care. Even when our email is full and voicemail is no longer accepting messages If our energy is fixed, we should do our best to expend it wisely. If we crave healing, we should actively seek restoration. If we desire love, let the heart sing. Can we afford to bargain at this table? I don’t think so… and yet I know I have danced along the ledge. I was young, pained, not yet so wise… So what? (Iz nu?)
Tseitn derlaibt! Oh, the times we have lived to see!
May there be many more tomorrows for us all…
My recipe (note, I’m no cook!):
Do work that is meaningful
Follow your heart
Always, always, always, be kind to others
Live out loud
Are you living your life well? It’s never too late to change things up a bit. Tell me how you do it?
And by ‘they,’ I mean the ‘hooded-Zuck’ and his crowd of gonifs (thieves). Et tu, Zuck?
My question to us all, will we continue to share on Facebook?
He who has money, has the whole world! Ver es hot gelt, hot di gantsah velt!
Mr. Facebook himself, the big macher (person of influence), took a trip to DC, probably wearing his old Bar Mitzvah suit to meet with the house and the senate. His tie, ferkokt (crooked, amiss), his apology, a bit meh (so-so, or like the bleating ‘baa’ of a sheep). He left unscathed and probably privacy policies will remain unchanged.
Facebook, with a user base as big as a continent, has really f*cked with mishandled our privacy information. Forget this ‘free service’ we are getting by showing our ‘proud momma’ monumental moments, our every Insta-share, dishing and #hashtagging our favorite restaurants and movies that we google-mapped to get to… He is laughing all the way to the bank in this brave, new, technological ledge that we are teetering upon. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore… This my friends, is the very dark and dirty side of tech. D-A-T-A. The new four-letter word.
Believe me, I know because we have our Gatsby that not everyone the dog barks at is a thief (nit yederer oif vemenhunt bilen iz a gonif), but something here, it ain’t kosher is not right. It’s veshtunkina (smells foul, bad).
Zuck allows us to think that we get all of this loving and lovely connection forfree. What a price we are paying now. mrt is our president. Democracy, as we knew it is shot. Our elections have been meddled, *ffed stolen by boy-pal Vlad. Oh, and Cambridge Analytica, a data mining company, hired by mrt’s campaign thugs, now owns all of our personal data or at least over 87 million of us the number they’re telling us anyway. One might even think, he should pay us? Nu?
Now I know, I am as guilty as the next momma. I hit next, next, next until I found ACCEPT. Yup. We all did. We ACCEPTED. We were naive. We were eager to share, like, and find our friends. We wanted to kvell (ooze with joy) over our kinderlach (children), kvetch (complain) about our tsuris (troubles), and voice our meynung (opinion) over current events.
And Facebook, the schnurs (beggars, moochers, leeches) are now collecting every single thing about us… every single thing. Will we change? Will we quit? Can we quit? Does it matter now?
Please tell me what you are doing about this DATA dilemma. The bitter irony, as I hit publish, this goes to Facebook. Maybe Mark, maybe he will read this…
I remember the time I first saw her. My heart raced a little and my palms, they were even a little sweaty (not a real schvitz (good sweat) this was well before hot flashes. I had no qualms at all. I knew she was right and true and good in oh-so-many ways. Then, I held her. We were meant to be — it was love. Who knew what was to happen over time. To me. To her. To us. It’s a shonda (a real shame), I tell you.
Drink? No. Drugs? No. Sex? No.
No! Please, don’t you worry about me and my Mrs.Kaynohora! (a great, albeit magical word, to ward off the evils of the world) We are just fine. Poo-poo! (more magic) I am talking about that ferkokteh (all effed up)iPhone! Smartphone. Choose your brand poison. That damned diminutive, divisive, device that is constantly causing digital dilemmas and drama, stealing life from right under us. I used to pee and walk the dog without a phone, well, obviously not at the same time.
My pocket-sized pal, she is always at the ready with a brain-strengthening game, a word with friends, a voyeuristic view into the curated world of my Insta-friends, an up-to-the-minute news flash (Vey iz mir (OMG), what has mr t done now…) of the world and it’s tsuris (troubles).
Have you seen this? The next time you are in a restaurant, a coffee shop, grabbing a nice nosh(little smattering of something to eat), look around. People are out, together, and looking only at their ‘phones.’ Tables full of people in self-imposed, solitary confinement. As I type the term ‘phones,’ I notice a smirk on my punim (face). This thing started as a phone. Who even talks anymore? Text, text, text, yadda, yadda, yadda… My car? It has become just an expensive accessory for my iPhone. Oy vey…
Well, so I did a little digging into this overwhelmingly addictive behavior. Turns out, ‘they’, yes the proverbial ‘they,’ designed this mighty machine with the intent to deliver a deluge of dopamine, so we continue to crave! Sound familiar, Marlboro Man? Dopamine, she is like a chemical messenger from your brain, bringing only rewards, joy and good feeling. Nachas in the form of a neurotransmitter. Kum-bah-yah everyone Often, we get a nice dopa-release from food, sex, giving gifts, falling in love, all things pleasurable — and unfortunately, from addictive behaviors like gambling and drugs… WTF Now, this 10-year-old technology, as old (or young) as my Big, has us all entranced and SIA (speaking in acronyms). Remember when you really did LO? And just screamed SHIT instead of a carefully chosen emoji! It was aerobic, cathartic, true.
Addicted? Here’s what to look out for, my friends. Sleep problems. That bedside blue essence and sheen, she is enticing and lures you in like the sirens of the sea… just like Carol Ann in the movie, Poltergeist, I warn you all, “Don’t go near the light!” I learned that heavy-duty smartphone users all of us have grapple with more depression and anxiety than ever before. Nu? Apparently, the more you hang with your digital dynamo, the more lonely and anxious you feel. The more lonely and anxious you feel… the more real life becomes socially awkward –The biggest hurdle? FOMO. FOMO is yet another acronym in our ever growing lexicon we have come to know and love: fear of missing out. We all worry about that. What?
I tell you today, and you read it here, I am putting her down. After what the hoodied-Zuck has done to us, we should all jump out of the new-found country that is FB and re-enter our present lives.
She does offer function. That I give her. I love that I have a camera wherever I go. I get to capture memories when I am present enough to make them. She keeps me safe. Driving alone, parking late at night, traveling for work, her mapping prowess, like prophecy… She lets me know where the kinder (kids)andthe Mrs. are, and I can even see their precious punims (beautiful faces) when we FaceTime. I remember the Jetson’s did this She offers open access to just about every piece of vital information I would need at my fingertips.
For the sake of my children, and the love of my life, iPhone, we are through. Finito. Kaput. Tsebrekhn. My mishpocheh (family, my peeps), I will now, try my absolute human best, to be forever or at least a real lot of the time present and mindful in our moments. And like all proper addictions, I must gain my strength with you still by my side.
It may not be easy. But hey, nothing in life ever really is…
A curse is not a telegram; it doesn’t arrive so fast. A klole iz nit keyn telegram; zi kumt nit on azoy gikh.
How about you? I’d love to know your thoughts on this telephonic topic. Leave me a note, or stop by, and we’ll nosh.
Today is a day of infamy! My hero, the Notorious R.B.G turns 85 today! Happy Birthday, Ruthie! RBG, you make this world a better place every day, and for that, I am very grateful.
In your honor, I happily re-run this post of mine, where I salute you, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, as my hero! I am certain I am not alone.
Tell me a story about a young girl, born in 1933 during the height of the depression, growing up facing antisemitism, blatant sexism, and inequality, and I’ll know you are talking about Ruth Bader Ginsburg, my hero. Oh, Ruth, you are one powerful Yiddisheh momma that dares to live every day #livingfearlesslyauthentic. Let me tell you about her.
Nothing ever did or will stop her. If she disagreed, you knew about it. If she ever wanted something to change, she stood up and fought for it — and that is still true today. She lives and breathes strength, integrity, and elegance. She stands up for equality when others don’t even recognize the discrimination. She is a graceful heavyweight, a leader among all leaders, and at five feet tall, 84 years old, she heads up the liberal wing of the Supremes. She makes me proud to be a woman, a Jew, a feminist, an activist, a mom, and a human being.
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
Joan Ruth Bader was born to Jewish immigrants and grew up in Brooklyn, NY. Her sister died when she was just a toddler. Her mother, Celia, always stressed the importance of education (Celia was a very good student, graduating High School at 15, yet her family chose to send her brother to college. It was a time when sons were valued and daughters were meant to find husbands.). As a mom, she wanted more for her daughter. What momma doesn’t? Celia noticed that many girls in her class were named Joan, so to quickly avoid any tsuris (trouble), she asked her teachers to call her Ruth. She brought her to the public library often, where Ruth consumed Nancy Drew books, realizing that Nancy was a young girl in charge, who thought for herself (perhaps we add this series of books to our collective daughters’ gift lists?Nu?) both in her mystery solving and in her relationships. Ruth’s dream of becoming a lawyer was underway and early signs of Notorious R.B.G had begun.
Ruth was an excellent student (she listened to her momma, like a glikt shana maideleh (good girl)). Sadly, her mom died the day before her high school graduation
She went on to attend Cornell University, where she studied in the bathroom stalls, hiding from parties and social activities — she graduated as the top-ranking female student in her class
At Cornell, she met Marty Ginsburg, whom she would later marry. Ruth was demoted from her job for being pregnant. Marty and Ruth gave birth to a bouncing baby girl. Everyone said she belonged in the kitchen, and at home with her daughter. Marty and Ruth knew better.
Marty ( a successful tax attorney in his own right) was supportive, unlike many men of their generation. He understood Ruth was no balaboosta (organized and efficient home-maker). He handled all of the traditional ‘mommy’ roles. Middle-of-the-night feedings, cooking, cleaning, baking, and tending to the kids… he was proud to do these things so that Ruth can later become the Notorious R.B.G. that we know and love.
She attended Harvard Law school and was often ridiculed by the dean for being a woman, taking up a man’s spot.
Marty took a job in NYC and Ruth transferred to Columbia University, where she graduated tied for top honors in her class.
She had a law degree and top honors, but being a woman, wife, mom, and a Jew made her dreams of becoming a lawyer very difficult. To say she became passionate about women’s rights and gender equality would be an understatement. After co-founding the Women’s Rights Project for the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union), Ruth went on to fight six landmark cases on gender equality before the US Supreme court.
President Jimmy Carter appointed RBG to the US Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia. She served there for thirteen years. President Bill Clinton, looking to increase the diversity on the highest bench in the land, appointed her to the US Supreme Court. She joined the Supremes as only the second female Supreme Court Justice (Sandra Day O’Connor was the first). She refers to the former justice as her “big sister.”
RBG battled colon cancer in 1999. She fought off pancreatic cancer in 2009. In 2014, she had a stent placed in her right coronary artery after feeling uncomfortable while working out with her personal trainer. Yes, she can probably kick a*s and take names in any gym she enters.
As for the name, Notorious R.B.G., that comes for her feisty and fiery dissents. A meme virally toured the social media realm, comparing her rap star Notorious B.I.G.
On retirement, at 84, she is a self-proclaimed flaming feminist litigator and is showing no signs of losing her efficacy or her memory. Take a look at this recent tweet from our own twit-in-chief, and you know she still is a powerful force.
Ruth, I admire you and hold you in the very highest regard. You influence my life and my decisions, and I know this world is a better place because of you. Thank you for all you do.
What a gutte neshumah, she is. What a good person with a big heart, she is.
Hello dear people! I’m plotzing (dying, falling over) over here. Su, from ethannevelyn.com, she nominated me for The Sunshine Blogger Award! Over here in ‘these internets,’ this is like an Oscar and I feel like Frances McDormand or The Shape of Water well not so much that! Look at all that glitter!
Su, this one is for you, and it comes from the heart:
Thank you so much! A sheyer veyner danke!
Now, the point of this lovely award is to get to know a bissel (little) bit more about the bloggers, in this case, me. So, whatever Su asks me, I will tell you all! Without further ado, I bring you much ado about me! ❤
Q1. Your blog’s name – why have you given this name to your blog? What’s in a name, right? In reality, the name of my blog is, Are we there yet? I just could never get it (the real name) to show up! No joke. LisaPomerantzster did, and despite all efforts right this heinous, tragic albeit fatal design flaw, I hit publish, and whoosh, there she was. I figured it was okay since it is also my email, should you want to write me? There was already a LisaPomerantz on Gmail, so I added the ‘ster’ for pizazz. Nu?
Q2. When did you start blogging? My very first post was on 9/23/14. It would be almost a full year until I wrote anything at all again. How lame is that Now, any time I can steal away, usually around 4 am when all are sleeping, is blog time.
Q3. What prompted you to start a blog? It was and remains to be, way cheaper than going to therapy. Not that I still couldn’t benefit from a few sessions, mind you I could write about anything and everything, share my shtik (spiel, act) spill my shpilkes (state of agitation, nerves) and hear back from people who not only took the time to read my little space in the universe, they commented! Good, bad or indifferent, YOU spoke back to ME! I was amazed, intrigued, and have made many wonderful friends on this journey! And, it is yet to be determined if I am even a little bit less, meshuggeneh (cray-cray)!
Q4. Name one favorite blogger that you are a big fan of right now. Mackenzie Glanville, of Reflections from Me
Q5. Why is she/ he/ they are your favorite blogger at this moment in time? Mac, to quote her directly, ‘believes everyone deserves a beautiful life.’ Her posts are about mindfulness, balance, moments in time, chaotic or blissful, and they always seem to arrive at the exact moment in time that I need them. That’s a gift for me! She’s authentic, true and speaks her values. How can you not love that? M’wah!
Q6. Where one place on earth would you go if you received an invitation to go traveling without money bring the limit? & Why? Heck, if money is no object, I can walk down the street a little easier! The Mrs.and me, we talked about one day taking the girls to some of the great wonders in the US — like the Grand Canyon, or Bryce Canyon. I love the red rock! And, that would allow for our the answer to Q8 too! Spain has been calling my name. I feel it. Costa Rica would be sweet. Anywhere in Italy, again. I must say, we like to be anywhere with our extended families too! I am very lucky that we all enjoy each other and have amazing family on both sides — we love to be with them all, wherever that is, as long as we are together.
Q7. What is your one favorite cheer up food when you are feeling down in the dump? Ice cream. Chocolate chip mint ice cream. Coffee ice cream. Did I mention ice cream? Oh, and I do not need to be sad to eat ice cream. I’m one of those people who cannot eat when I am down in the dumps, nervous, anxious, or upset. Oy, it’s a wonder I eat at all! Actually, it drives the Mrs. crazy!
Q8. What’s your one favorite thing to do with your family? How can I limit this to one thing! My time with my mishpocheh (family) is priceless. All things together are good, even the really crappy, whiny, tantrummy times. But I guess, I like it best when we all go on a family hike, or even or some family activism, like the Women’s March!
Q9. What is your dream job when you were young? I wanted to be an illustrator, living it up in NYC. I gave it a good go and had to begin the process of reinventing myself around ~1998.
Q10. What is your dream job now? Supporting my family is what’s really important. That is the stuff my dreams are made of! Because it is no easy task. Ich macht a labent (I’m makin’ a living.)Balancing the line between working too much and living at all… My dream job now, it would allow me to make enough to not worry so much, control my own hours, be my own big macher (boss), so I can see the play at school, run to the dance rehearsals, and grab a romantic lunch or two no, not Chipotle with the Mrs. in between. The important things.
Q11. If you can to give back to the world – what would that one thing be? Empathy. Our world needs a lot of empathy, especially now.
Thank you again, Su, for this amazing award! Now for the rules:
Thank the person who nominated you for the Sunshine Award andlinkback to their blog while you are kvelling (filled with pride)
Answer the questions the person who nominated you provided
Nominate other bloggers and give them 11 questions brain posers
Notify your nominees via social media and/or blogger love, the comment section of their blog
List the ‘rules’ and proudly display the Sunshine Award logo in your post
Drumroll, please! Allow me to introduce you all to these fabulous bloggers, my nominees:
Mazel Tov (kudos)my fellow bloggers! Grab steal swipe your award winning image above once it has all sunk in, answer these 11 questions and pay it forward! Also, if you are not into this mishegas (craziness), that is a-okay! Just know that I really think you are all awesome!
Q1. Do you have a favorite thing, person, dare I say, ‘muse,’ to inspire your writing?
Q2. Why did you start your blog?
Q3. Who is your hero (alive or dead, or even animated) and why?
Q4. What drives you meshuggeneh (nuts)?
Q5. What were you like as a kid?
Q6. Where is your happy place?
Q7. When it comes to gifts, would you prefer to give or receive?
Q8. What’s your very favorite song?
Q9. How would you describe that song to someone who cannot hear?
Q10. What would your pet say about you, assuming of course, that you have a pet, and it can talk?
Vey iz mir. (OMG.)I am in the midst of what can only be a true epic mom-fail. I need your help. You see, I believe, no matter what you are doing, how big or how small the act, you must always set up the next person for success? Nu?Is this so hard?
Let me get to the point. No matter which bathroom, loo, water closet I enter, I am often always left high and dry. You know, you rush in for a tinkle, hope that maybe, just maybe, you can pass water in peace. Alone. The door won’t fly open with a concern, a to-do needing arbitration, a question like, “What are you doing, mommy?” Just trying to pee alone, just this once. And you reach across to the toilet paper holder, usually placed convenient to the action at hand, only to find…
Am I the only one capable, culpable, hell-bent hung up on hanging up a new roll of toilet paper when I reach the cardboard holder which is effing recyclable people? The other day, in the course of just a few hours (I have the bladder of a flea) I was left as dry as the Sierra Desert at high noon in all three technically 2.5 of our bathrooms.
Some facts for you: We are four women. Two moms, two shana maideleh’s (sweet little girls). That’s a lot of estrogens well, it used to be more… coursing through this home. No one leaves the seats up. No one can technically, er, um, drip dry (Gatsby, our man of the house, uses the outdoors mostly).
Not two weeks ago, I had that alone moment every parent craves and snuck into the kinder’s (kids) bathroom. I went, I turned, I reached… NO! I stayed seated. I took a deep breath. I called for my kinder. They came joyfully running. The entered without abandon. “Hi mommy, what’ryou doing?” I asked, “What is wrong with this picture, my kinder?”They both cocked their heads, like when I ask Gatsby if he wants to go in the car or have a treat.“What do you mean, Mommy?”
I pointed to the sad scrap of paper attached to the TP holder. I said, “Have you girls ever changed the toilet paper roll before? Let me show you how, so this can stop happening to Mommy? Nu?” Since I was, well, indisposed, I asked Little to reach for a new roll. She handed it to me with her playful, almost spritely smile. I said to them both, “Watch this.” I held the new, plush roll in my lap still seated on the throne as I lifted the cardboard insert and the metal bar that holds it in place. I showed them how to emancipate remove the empty roll and did a shtick (shpiel, speech) about recycling. Then I gently placed the lovely, fresh roll onto the metal bar and lowered it into place. Thus securing the new roll, with a clean top-over pull, ready for those in need me.
Still sitting atop said porcelain, I explained a bit about setting each other up for success in big ways, in small ways, in all ways. They nodded as if they understood. Giggling at my vulnerable state, I’m sure. Then, they scurried off to play. I completed my transaction and went about my day, thinking, “I made a difference today.”
… Later that same day, the commode conundrum reared its ugly head yet again. This time, upstairs, in the bathroom I share with my Mrs.(and kinder too) I didn’t even try to shut the door. I went, I reached, NO! Gatsby was curled on the mat near the shower. I looked at him and his tail wagged, making a lovely noise as it smacked the floor. He knew nothing of the tsuris (trouble) I was facing. I looked up, and across the room which felt a million miles away, atop the sink, sat a brand-new scroll. I laughed cried. I waited for eons. I stood and walked over like Elvis, with my pants around my ankles and seized my prize. Oy!
So my friends, If as a human being, living and sharing space on this precious planet we call home, you are looking to bring solace to your fellow dwellers, simply follow these easy steps.
You will need some basics.
1 new roll of (whatever ply suits your system) TP
A free hand put down the smartphone
Recycling bin (YES! It’s recyclable should not be sent to the landfill)
It’s simple really.
Remove empty roll.
Replace with new roll, paper coming over top.
Place empty roll in the recycling bin, or save for reuse as beautiful junk in a craft project with your kinder.
Beautiful. Now watch Helen Hunt do it… you won’t be sorry for these 25 seconds, I promise.
Anyone having these same issues? Do tell!
If the Student is successful, the teacher gets the praise. Az der talmid iz a voiler, iz der rebbi oich a voiler.