Today, I am relieved, ecstatic, joyful, delighted, and kvelling to learn that all 12 boys and their soccer coach are rescued, safe and sound. The collective global sigh of relief is holding me up and getting me through the rough parts of our world. There really are heroes in the world. We need to celebrate them!
Hold your kinderlach (children) closer today, and every day.
Troubles overcome are good to tell. Ibergekumene tsores iz gut tsu derseylin.
Technically, it is July 4th, Independence Day in the states, and I couldn’t be farther from feeling patriotic, proud of my country or the people who are running it. Truth is, our country scares the shit out of me daily frightens me in a way I have never before experienced.
Today, I welcome the day off with my family. I welcomed sleeping in a bit, relaxing. But I am not feeling very red, white or blue — well, blue only in the sense of a deepening sadness. Human dignity and freedoms are now being stolen daily. The immigrant crisis, where children are being separated from their parents and sent to ‘camps’ technically for purposes of law! WTF and the parallels to the atrocities of the Holocaust haunt me. Please, dear friends, we cannot have another global miscarriage of morals, ethics, and values. Please, hear the cries, feel the pain. Act. Scream. Shout at the top of your lungs.
I move forward only by seeing the cries of injustice rallied far and wide. I hold strong and hard in my belief that we, the greater we of like minds, fairness, civility, compassion, and empathy can right this veering ship.
We must hold on this holiday, more than all others, the belief that the people of our world can and will come together and change the confluence of attitudes and events that are swirling together like the perfect storm. We have to raise the bar on just about everything in the world on human rights. We all need to care.
As many of you know, we had a bit of tsuris (trouble) this past spring break, when everyone got sick, save for Gatsby and me. Everything was ferkokt (all fucked effed up) Plans were canceled, tears were spilled along with other bodily fluids … Well, we finally got a re-do on that break, and this time, we headed to Boulder, Colorado to see my shvester (sister)and shvager (brother-in-law). I hope you can see how much fun we had! I am so very lucky…
The fresh smelling air, the sights, the sounds of nature, all were as glorious as this shot which doesn’t even begin to capture what our senses absorbed. We all need to be good to our planet to preserve such a treasure. A shtik naches (A great joy) for us all to revel and relish.
As an important note, I think we only stopped 7 or 403 times to utilize our new unicorn bandaids for various blisters and to add a bissel (little) bling!
Some of us were Terrified of back bear sightings — we stumbled into this tiny rabbit while hiking. A little later we saw a very big deer, resting in the shade. She was unscathed by our presence. Of course, we were then terrified of ticks and Lyme’s Disease and inspected our kinder like Jane Goodall and her gorillas in the mist. On our way down, we spoke to a couple that saw a few baby black bears (Oy vey!) playing, on their hike, higher up. Luckily my kinder won’t likely read this post for many moons, if at all Feelings of shpilkes (fear, pins, and needles) in our group? ‘Spot on!’
Never too tired to swim, and the water is never too cold when you are kinderlech (young children). Besides, there are two hot tubs to choose from to warm up if you need to! The water was actually quite comfortable in temp. Nothing stimulates the soul, activates the appetite and allows for sweet slumbers, like daily swimming. And the scenery, it couldn’t be more beautiful.
If he knew the words, he would have said, “Loz mich tsu ru! (Leave me alone!)” I had to look them up! He is one proud uncle, who gets a kick out of these maideleh’s (sweet little girls), and, he loves his ME time! Nothing wrong with that! ❤ While we swim, he aerobicizes and lifts, solo style.
With the patience of a saint, and an overwhelming need to play, she taught us again how to throw and catch a Frisbee. I really think we have it now! For me, just running freely, throwing, hiking, swimming and playing, without severe or any repercussions, shows the proof in the pudding from living so close to the dispensaries! Medical or recreational, cannabis works for chronic nerve pain (and so much more)! I see why people up and move to feel better. Mrs.?
We all had a blast. It was good to get away from our daily grind and take in new perspectives and sights. Needless to say, I was verklempt (all choked up, emotional) for the entire bus ride to the airport, and even during the frisking, she didn’t even know me! at the airport check-in … and, for a few more hours too. My shvester, she is a bit on the magical side. She is loads of fun for us all, and together, we laugh, and laugh and laugh until we pee ourselves. No joke! And for me, to have a body that can feel so good, priceless.
June is National Gun Violence Prevention Month.Shouldn’t June be, Hello, Summer, Month? Living here in these United Divided States, it’s something I take very seriously. Last year, I wore orange for Hadiya Pendleton. You can read about Hadiya and why #WearOrange became a movement here. I think about Hadiya daily, her stolen childhood and untapped, unfulfilled dreams. My heart breaks when I think about how her parents and friends must feel. And having never met her, I am deeply saddened that her bright light no longer shines in our world.
Hey, hey. Ho, ho. The NRA has got to go! HEY, HEY. HO, HO. THE NRA HAS GOT TO GO!
I look at my kinder (children) and I wonder if/when this epidemic of gun violence will stop. It is a health crisis, as virulent as Ebola. On June 2, I marched again, myMrs., Little, and Big at my side. The crowd was little bigger, but not big enough. Hadiya deserved more people marching in her honor, a sea of orange for a necessary sea change… Gun violence must not be the new normal. We should feel safe going about our days. Our own president ugh publicly addressed the NRA ugh ugh at their annual Convention and said, “I will not let you down. I will not let you down.”
We can END GUN VIOLENCE! We can END GUN VIOLENCE!
Movita Johnson-Harrell. I #WearOrange for her too. This inspiring woman has lost her father, brother, and teen-aged son to homicide by gun violence. Tsuris (devastating pain, grief) does not begin to cover what she has been through in her lifetime. Her speech at our March in Philadelphia left nary a dry eye. My Mrs., she was verklempt (all choked up). Yet Movita, she gets up every day, puts a smile on her face, and works very hard to make sure no other momma will ever feel the pain she feels or experiences what she has experienced. She was even selected by our new D.A. Larry Krasner, a good man, as Interim Supervisor of Victims Services. Who could understand victims and their families more than Movita? Through her broken heart, she helps others. A real mensch (good person, through and through).
Guns down! GUNS DOWN! Guns down! GUNS DOWN!
Tell me what democracy looks like. THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!
Marching and gathering peacefully in protest is my right as a citizen, and I need to do more. Each week, volunteering with Moms Demand Action, I make telephone calls to constituents all over the country, urging them to contact their legislators about concealed carry reciprocity. I often get yelled at, hung-up on, told that the person on the other end of the line is carrying… and I also, often connect, listen, politely inquire, challenge, and charmingly change the thought process with real facts. It is one of the toughest, yet most rewarding 60 minutes during my week. Together with other volunteers, Moms has driven hundreds of thousands of phone calls to elected officials to battle the NRA and the ballot box.
I #WearOrange because I’m a mom who cannot comprehend losing a child, a family member, to gun violence. I #WearOrange to raise awareness. I #WearOrangebecause change will not happen unless we make it happen. I #WearOrange for all of the victims and their families. I #WearOrange because I know that #BlackLivesMatter. I #WearOrange for the #LGBTQ community. I #WearOrange for all the tragic, senseless massacres at schools, concerts, movie theatres… I #WearOrange for all of us who are oppressed, marginalized, hated and victimized. I #WearOrange because I believe we need to drastically reduce access to guns. I #WearOrangebecause we need to treat mental illness without shame or stigma. I #WearOrange for all the families left behind from suicide. I #WearOrangebecause I care about the future. I #WearOrange because our elected officials need to see us and we need to vote. I#WearOrangeand I hope you will too.
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…