When children are young; their parents talk about how smart they are; when parents are old, their children talk about how stupid they are. Ven di kinder zaynen yung, dertselyn di eltern zeyere khokhmes; ven di eltern zaynen alt dertselyn di kinder zeyere narishkaytn.
Oy vey iz mir, may they stay young! May we all stay young(ish).
And another one for all:
Time is more precious than money. Di tsayt iz tayerer fun gelt.
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?
Guess what… this a not a political rant or a thumbs down to the tsuris (troubles) our world is facing due to mrt kind of passive aggressive of me, eh?. This is a girls story. My Big, she is growing up. Born not ten minutes ago, yet my shana maideleh (sweet little girl) is soon to enter double digits. She is gaining wisdom, confidence, curiosity and her own personal identity, wrapped in a blanket of kindness and love. Oy, here I am kvelling (enthusiastically bursting with love and pride), again…
I should probably show a Georgia O’Keefe painting right about now because I am going there… Periods. Girls are getting them. There is chatter. We have chatted. And we are doing everything we can to keep it positive, normal and free of shame as we begin to prepare for this milestone gallstone kidney stone. She’s got two moms — this should be a walk in the park for us, right?
But I gotta say, she just learned to ride a bicycle. Am I ready for the menstrual cycle?
Which of course got me thinking about my own very strange, first-period experience. It was the Saturday of labor day weekend, 1976 and I was thirteen. We lived in south Florida and it was hotter than hell in a sauna on those particular September days. School had begun in August and I had welcomed the 3 days off. The Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon played on every TV in our house. I went to pee, and there it was – the small red blot. It was more of a dot than a blot. Definitely a dot. I was rattled I wanted to write, ‘mortified’ but you’ll soon see, my father’s name is Morty. Some of my friends had already gotten their periods, so I knew time was not on my side. I read Judy Blume’s, Are you there God, It’s me, Margaret, a few times by now. I just did not want it to happen. Gay avek (get lost, go away)!
So I very inconspicuously left that bathroom, and quietly went into my room with Buttons, our poodle, and my closest confidant. I closed the door and sat on the floor quickly putting my legs up on my bed. I went vertical, in what I now know was a yogic shoulder stand. I was upside down. Dammit, I was going to send this period back where it came from… Surely if I stayed this way, there was no way for the ‘flow’ of Aunt Flo to wind its way, well, down. Why had no one else tried this? I was brilliant! Buttons agreed.
Day 1: After the initial spatter, I was fine. Feeling positive that I had this entire situation well under control, laughing with Jerry Lewis. Buttons, she was just happy we were staying in the air conditioning. Day 2: Coasting. Not even Dexter could find any blood spatter. I stayed on the phone, watched the telethon, Buttons at my upside-down, side. Day 3:WTF What happened to physics? How could this happen to me? I was in a shoulder stand for three solid days! I was as invested in this endeavor as Jerry was in raising money. I had to do something. I had to call my mom… Ugh!
They were at the tennis club. This was all pre-smartphones. I picked up my princess phone and dialed the club. Max, who manned the front desk and was 90-years-old if he was a minute, answered the phone. He paged my mom. Yes, called her by name over the loudspeaker and told her she had a call. Kill me now, before she picks up. A bolt of lightning. Divine intervention. Thankfully her doubles match was over and I wasn’t too much of a burden. I told her I didn’t feel so good and could she please come home. That was all I said.
Instantly, she screamed across the entire restaurant, “Morty! Lisala got her period! Let’s go!” They came home, my father teased me incessantly and my mother handed me a futon-sized bedroll and called it a maxi pad. She said, “You know everything, right?” I mumbled, “of course I do” and slinked, head down, in shame, into the bathroom where this nightmare began. She added, “Be careful of the sheets at night, from behind the locked bathroom door.
Later, on that dreadful night, they took me out to dinner an alleged celebration at The Rascal House where they embarrassed me by telling everyone in line, the waitress, the guy who brought the pickles, the other guy who cleared the dishes, the cashier, that I just got my period. Wasn’t it bad enough that everyone could tell I had a mattress between my legs? I prayed for invisibility well before Harry Potter had the cloak.
Needless to say, things got way worse before they ever got better, and there will be more stories, to share, I am sure. And I never wore white pants again.
Last week, I was invited with my Big to go with her to Diana Circle. It’s like the happy, hippy, feminist version of Girl Scouts no judgment here, no cookies to sell either. They are an empowering, safe, and inclusive group that celebrates modern young girls as they experience their own, unique rites of passage. In a world filled with mixed messages, misogyny, double standards, a stunning amount of sexual harassment, and thankfully, oceans of #strongwomen in #pinkpussyhats marching the earth, I am so very grateful to Tara R. and her spiritual girl-guidance. She helps us to help our kinder (kids) embrace life, take the bullshit by the horns and grow up to be strong, healthy, and proud women.
At the previous gathering, one of the older girls got her first period and she was celebrated in a beautiful and moving way. The Mrs. and me, we are trying our very best to do right by our kinder. May they never be shamed for their bodies or their natural bodily functions. May they embrace the challenges of growing up as their uniquely beautiful selves free from adolescent misery and filled with love, connectedness, and honesty. A way I never knew was possible until a decade or so of therapy.
And friends, I leave you with this Yiddish Proverb:
No one knows whose shoe pinches except the person who walks in it. Keyner veys nit vemen der shuckh kvetsht, nor der vos geyt in im.
Nu? What’s your first-period story? Share with us and we all become a bissel (little) closer. Here’s to #mightygirls becoming #strongwomen!
Kvelling. It’s a verb. It means to be extraordinarily pleased or happy! We have our ups, we have our downs, but this week has been filled with a lot of, much appreciated, extraordinary happiness! I hope the same is true for all of you!
And the Yiddish proverb I leave you with this week is:
Love your neighbor, even if he plays the trombone! Libh deyn khbr, afilu aiob er fyeses di trambone.
So last night, I had a wonderful talk with my kinder (children) that I would love to share with you. Oh, they are so funny, so knowledgeable, so wise… It all started with Santa, and it went something like this:
Little: Santa brings presents to everyone who is young and everyone who is old.
me: Well, how old are you when you are young?
Big: Like, 20 and under. 20 and under is young.
me:So Max and Benny, they are old? (cousins, my loving nephews)
Little: Well, no. Definitely, beneath 29, you are young. Just beneath 29.
me:So what are you when you are between 30 and 69?
Little: What do you mean?
Big: You’re a middle person. You and Ema are middle people. (I was somewhat relieved to know my own kinder do not think me an alta kocker (literally an ‘old shit’ more commonly, an old fart))
me: How old do you think Santa must be by now?
Little and Big:He is at least 80 or even 100. We can probably ask Mrs. Claus. She would know and tell us the truth.
me: How does this whole present distribution thing work for Christmas? How does Santa give presents out?
Big: If you are mean, there are no presents.
Little: And if you are a little bit mean, you only get like one or two presents. Mostly coal presents or whatever they call that. What is coal?
me: What does ‘mean’ mean?
Little and Big: (forgive me, but this was a jumbled free-for-all in reply) Like when you exclude people or say insults about them. If you kick, slap, bite or scratch people, that is mean. Scratching people with a sharp rock would be mean. Pinching is very mean. Robbers steal things, and that is really mean. Like people who find money or credit cards on the floor and don’t return them to the people who lost them and instead they use it for themselves, like stealing it – that is mean. Stealing is definitely mean.
me: Who do you think of when you think of someone who is mean?
Big: Umm, I know a good one! (dancing around the living room) The President of the United States! He is mean!
me: Why is the president mean?
Big: He always insults people, especially people he thinks are not nice to him.
me: Will Santa visit the President on Christmas?
Little: No! I don’t think his kids will get a visit from Santa either. Well, maybe Santa will bring teeny-tiny presents for his kids if they get anything at all.
me: What makes Santa so kind?
Big: (now dancing with every reply) He has a VERYVERYVERYVERYVERYVERYVERYVERY big heart <3. He is really nice. He makes gifts all year long for everyone in the whole world. That’s all he really does all year. Then he delivers them to everyone who is kind.
Little: And then he sleeps for like 3 weeks ’cause he’s so tired from making all of those toys and delivering them around the world. And his heart ❤ is so VERYVERYVERYVERYVERY big.
I’m making some of this stuff up. Did you know that? (devilish smile in tow)
Big: The president, his heart is only VERYVERYVERYVERYVERYVERY BIG for himself and his money. He loves his money and himself. His heart for other people is too tiny, veryveryveryvery tiny heart.
me: Is there any way we can make the world nicer, and have more people kind, like Santa?
Big:(still dancing and twirling around the living room) We can spread joy by being kind and happy. It will then spread all around the world so everyone can feel it!
me: Is there a way we can make the president nicer?
Big: Do you mean Donald? Donald Duck? (awkward pregnant, pensive pause) Mommy, I want to call him Donald Duck instead of the president. I don’t really know an answer for that, mommy.
Little: He needs to get a bigger heart. His heart is way too small for a person. Tiny small. Like this small (imagine hand gesture of pointer and thumb just about touching).
me: If you had one wish for the world, what would it be?
Big: That Donald Duck wasn’t the president of the United States.
Little:That everybody was kind, and I had candy. That’s two wishes, I know, but I’m little, so that’s okay.
Well, this Yiddisheh momma can feel the live magic of Christmas spirit in the house. As a Jewish atheist, I’m alright with that.
me and the Mrs., we need to zug gornisht (say nothing) because as you can read above, the kinder, they are always listening…
Happy, healthy holidays to all of you! A bei gezunt. As long as you’re healthy.
If the world will ever be redeemed, it will only be through the merit of children.
Oib di velt vet verren oisgilaiszt, iz es nor in zechus fun kinder.
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!
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.
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?
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 myLittle 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. Whatis 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.
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!
If you have nothing to lose, you can try everything. Aoyb ir hot gornisht tsu farlim, ir kenen prubirn alts.