Did you really just text me a zinger like that?

image

Shush! Therapy is in session. Phones off.

Kvetch (rant) week 16: Texting has gotta stop!

Okay, it has to be done. I’ve seen too much collateral damage, both on the side of the road in a puddle of blood, and on the sofa cushions, in a puddle of tears.  Texting is not a form of good communication. I’m as techy as the next mom, maybe more so. But, hear me loud and clear. We are allowing our superior opposable thumbs to:

  1. Slowly and surely slash social human interaction
  2. Cause senseless arguments and misinterpretations
  3. Choke our savings in data plans that feel like extortion

Why you ask? Nuance. In a text you cannot look the person in the eyes, hear the tone of their voice, respond to their body language or sense their emotional state. Emoji’s, while cute, cannot replace the shades and degrees that make up real conversations.

PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE IF:

  • Your text is more than 2 short sentences, such as, “Running late. Be home soon.” If the reader has to scroll endlessly to read your message, and then respond with texting that is twice as long, this is mishegas (crazy making).
  • You need to convey something shocking or impolite, “I’m divorcing you and I’m keeping the house. How was your day?” C’mon. Unless you are really a draycup (one with your head not on straight), think this through.
  • You have emotional news to share, like, “Your father, he’s just fine. He only tried to kill himself.” This Yiddisher momma loves sarcasm as much as you, but nice, not so much. This kind of text can trigger a battle of the thumbs that will rival the Dueling Banjos from Deliverance. And Carpal-Thumbal is soon to be the next medical malady.
  • You may come off a bissel (a tad bit) begrudging, “You did what? And that birthday Rolex will feed your kids how?” You may be thinking, wow, I was damned clever there…but at what price?
  • You may create a monster of a misunderstanding; “You haven’t spoken to me in three years and you want I should drop everything now and take you to the airport!” Don’t text today like nothing was wrong yesterday. Or more profoundly put, “Don’t pee on my foot and tell me it’s raining.”

DRIVING WHILE IN-TEXT-ICATED:

Every day, we mitigate hundreds of risks with the decisions and choices we make throughout the course of our days. And still, we magically (or luckily) make it home for dinner. Kaynehorrah (said to ward off the evil eye)! 1.6 million-car accidents occur each year due to the dilemma that is texting and driving. This number, it is growing. And it is taking our kinder (children) with it. Teens are the biggest culprits. And whom did they learn this behavior from? I’m just saying. Put the phone down. Be a role model. Listen to NPR or Spotify. Be present.

Distracted walking is now even cause for concern. People are texting while walking and getting hit by cars, run over by trains, and are generally more in danger than those of us present. Who is such a macher (big cheese, boss) they cannot walk without the thumbs poised to shoot?

Me, I have a strict rule in the car. I will not text and drive for three major reasons: The Mrs., Big, and Little.

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And because I’m curious, when I do hear that electronic fart telling me I have a text waiting, don’t you know I hit every green light until I reach my final destination. No joke! Keep ‘em coming. I’ll be punctual and arrive alive.

A bei gezunt. (We should all live and be well).

Can you give it up? Tell me about it, won’t you?

 

 

 

 

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Thank You so much Su, from EthanEvelyn.com! #FabFridayPost
Thank You so much Su, from EthanEvelyn.com! #FabFridayPost
Bloggers Pit Stop #23 Mwah Ladies!
Bloggers Pit Stop #23
Mwah Ladies!

Rant, Shmant: Zika virus?

 

This is one scary bug!
           

Shhhhh. feeling extremely out of control… Vampires bites! Week 14 

Is it just me? Or are you worried about the Zika virus? Forget the election and the fate of our country. This little bugger might just trump Trump, in the world of threats? According to health officials at the CDC, these newly armed and mighty mosquitos are like teeny, tiny-terrorists, swarming our way, and outfitted in the latest ISIS style death-vests, ready to attack with a bite, leaving behind a trail of neurologic cooties. Can’t go outside because they can form and reproduce in a drop of water. Can’t stay inside, because unlike other mosquito members, they like it indoors.

At first, level red alerts were only for those with child and trying for ‘with child’ status, due to the link to abysmal birth defects. As if that wasn’t bad enough! Now, ‘they’ say, all of us are in danger. Fevers, rashes, joint pain, fatigue and um, some rare autoimmune and neurological disorders that could attack our brains and spinal chords.

And, as warmer weather is on the way, vacations begin and people from Zika prone countries will cross-pollinate. We now know, the vampire bite is no longer the only way to spread said sickness. Actually shtupping (having sex with an infected male) can do it too. Lucky for this two-momma household, we at least have lesbianism going for us. Oy vey!

So, I headed over to the CDC web site and take a look-see under PREVENTION. Mark my words, this is what it said: No vaccine exists. Prevent Zika by avoiding mosquito bites. Genius!

I don’t know about you, but the Mrs., Little, Big and me are like mosquito magnets. The freckles on our skin must say, “All you can Eat,” in mosquito. We use the stuff that costs and arm and a leg from WF to protect from bug bites. No way my shana madelahs (little girls) are going to get slathered in DEET. Even the EPA, the bastion of protection, says that this stuff is so poisonous, if you do use it, wash it off immediately when you come inside, don’t breathe around it (how does this work, when you shmear it on like cream cheese on a bagel?), and don’t spray directly on your face. These machers (big shots) also suggest, wait for it, staying indoors from dawn to dusk. This, they earn salaries for?

I’m no doctor (a Yiddisher Momma, yes, and I watched a lot of House), but DEET kills things. Probably a lot more things than just vampire mosquitos!

Well that’s it for my kvetching (complaining). What on earth are you going to do about this mosquito issue with your families?

 

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linky 4-22-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #28
linky 4-22-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #28

 

Bloggers Pit Stop #20
Bloggers Pit Stop #20

Today’s Post, is brought to you by the Letter “U”

With the doctor
With the doctor

Big U, Little u, what begins with U?

U is for Update

So the last time a letter sponsored this yiddisher momma, it was B, for Botox. I thought it well timed to share an update. It’s unanimous! There is no level of unhappiness as a result of this treatment. In fact, it is my understanding that in addition to the incredibly youthful, even child-like, back of my head and scalp that I now sport underneath my coif, Botox helps to undo my pain! In fact, Botox, united with my superhuman bionic occipital stimulator, has me under an umbrella of predominantly good feeling unlike I have known in quite some time. This unusual turn of events has me quite hopeful and, well upbeat. The upstairs region of my person, which is usually inundated with pain unlike – well, you should just never know from such ugly pain – now has me in the unique position of not crying, “Uncle! I give up.” 

Big U, Little u, what begins with U?

U is for Unlikely turn of events

It turns out, you do not have to be ungeshtupped (stuffed with money!) to get this procedure! The upright people who make Botox (Allergan) have a program to assist desperate pain sufferers such as me, in paying for the unreasonable and unwarranted copays that triggered consideration of sitting myself near my local urban pharmacy with a Venti-sized spent Starbucks cup in hand. I am still anticipating the arrival of my undue out-of-pocket expenditures, and will no doubt update you all to the Botox loot when it arrives via post. The understanding of said payback program has me already scheduled to undergo another round of injections in one month’s time. Sticking to the 90-day plan is urgent and essential in keeping away the unpleasant pain.

Doing the 'HAPPY DANCE'
Doing the ‘HAPPY DANCE’ for Mommy

Big U, Little u, what begins with U?

U is for Us

As in the Mrs., me and the kinder (kids) and our newfound universe that does not contain the usual amount of ache and discomfort. This has us all on an upward spiral of delight. And, don’t you worry, I will undertake anything that I am normally unable to do – I want very much to maintain this unique new feeling of unfeeling as much agony as is possible.

Until next time…what’s new with U?

 

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Rant, Shmant: The Time Conundrum?

Tick-tock, tick-tock...
Tick-tock, tick-tock…

Quiet please, for this session is very important…Week 13

Where does it go when 24/7 is the new norm? 81 years is the average age for a woman in the U.S. to live, less so for a man. How do we spend our time? What makes us happy? What constitutes a life well lived? I suppose those answers change from person to person.

2 reasons right here...
2 reasons right here…

I’m soon to be 636 months old. Am I doing the things that matter to me? Am I grateful? What do I want more of? What do I do too much of? If I have roughly 336 months left, how should they be spent? How could they be spent?

I work really hard. I do not have wealth, and I am rich in many ways. I live with extreme physical pain, and I savor the many pleasurable feelings of joy. I have had struggles and tsuris (troubles) for what feels too long a time, and I revel in laughter and glee. I have been hurt and I seek no harm to others. I’m not where I want to be, physically or fiscally, and I am so lucky to be surrounded by those I love and who love me.

This life, it seems it is filled with hundreds of invisible tugs of war that one encounters at unpredictable checkpoints along the way. Everyone’s road is different. Sometimes one can pass through the obstacles with ease while others require extra adeptness and newfound compassion.

Where is the balance among the commotion? How does one teeter what feels good and what hurts? Ethics, morals, values, pain, conflict, money, love, empathy, gratitude, compassion…is there a pattern? I don’t have that answer. I don’t see a pattern.

If time is finite, I need handle it with care. If energy is fixed, I should expend wisely. If my body craves healing, I need to treasure restoration. I fear there is no bargaining at this table.

I do work that is meaningful. My heart lives for and with my family, great friends. Such naches (joy and happiness) I get, from the Mrs. and der kinder (the children). I hold my loved ones closely and dearly. I am grateful.

Thanks for letting me speak (well, okay, type). I can stop kvetching (complaining), at least about time, for I think I have resolved the answer to my enigma. Wish me much mazel (good luck)!

Are you living your life well? A bei gezunt (As long as your healthy)!

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linky 4-15-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #27
linky 4-15-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #27
Bloggers Pit Stop #19
Bloggers Pit Stop #19
Pass the Sauce #AgentSpitback #Linky Party 4-19-16
Pass the Sauce #AgentSpitback #Linky Party 4-19-16

 

The Liebster Award! Oh My!

Thank you #grubbsncritters for this honor!
Thank you #grubbsncritters for this honor!

KVELLING: Bursting with pride and joy!

I am feeling really special lately. I am so fortunate to have been praised and recognized by fellow blogger Ann, of grubbsncritter.com.  I greatly admire Ann and the great work she does in this space!  Such nachas (utter delight) I haven’t felt, since, well, since I got to watch my Big and Little perform in the ballet, the Nutcracker this past Christmas. (Yes, Jewish kids can perform in a ballet about goyim, or non-jews). Well, I also felt this good when the Mrs. and me, we had time enough to casually binge watch every episode of Doc Martin on TV! I digress…Thank you Ann for this splendid award! I will not rest on my laurels here, rest assured!

Nutcracker tryouts...
Nutcracker try-outs

Ann, she too has two, and has time to write about her life and family antics. A must to add to your reader.

My honorees (drumroll please):

Your Questions???

  1. What is your favorite book?
  2. When did you know you loved writing?
  3. Do you have cable, or are you a cord cutter?
  4. Where on the planet is your ‘happy place?’
  5. All-time, best ever, favorite moment of your life (to date)?
  6. What three things would you bring with you if you were stranded on a desert island?
  7. Dinner or Dessert?
  8. What is your favorite word?
  9. How do you occupy your time when you are not blogging?
  10. What do you look forward to in the future?

The Answers to my Questions from Ann:

  1. What’s your favourite go-to snack? Dark Chocolate, or oranges (definitely not together)
  2. If a genie would grant you one wish, and only one, what would you wish for? That the Mrs. and my kinder (the girls), they will always be okay
  3. What’s your favourite post from your own blog so far? My Rant about Cell Phones
  4. Who is your favourite blogger? All things Chronic
  5. If you would cook a special meal, what would it be? Falafel, tabouli and hummus
  6. What makes you squirm? Mice, lice, and mice with lice
  7. What is the most annoying song? The theme song to Barney!
  8. Would you rather live in the city or the suburb? I’m a city girl
  9. What is your favourite quote? Don’t pee on my foot and tell me it’s raining! or in Yiddish, Du kanst nicht oif meinem fus pishen und mir sagen klass es regen ist.
  10. Cats or dogs? Dogs, more specifically, pugs ❤

Thanks again Ann! You rock and made my day, week, month!

 

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Rant, Shmant…Well maybe this week, it’s a lament

The Tooth Fairies find us at the Manor
The Tooth Fairies find us at the Manor

Shhhhhh: therapy game is ON: Week 12

For the past several weeks/months, Big has had a very sleepy, jiggly, wiggly loose front baby tooth. Keep in mind, she is 8, and has only lost two teeny teeth (the lower front biters) to date. Big, just like the Mrs., is very sensitive. I have joked, “Big will need crutches before this tooth untethers!” Eating has become fascinating. All foods must be cut narrow and thin, to slide in on the right side, so as not to aggravate or exacerbate said upper left tooth. My shana madelah (beautiful little girl) was tolerating little cuts to her right cheek, trying desperately not to let anything come anywhere near the incapacitated dental vicinity.

Well, while on our family spring break, Little somehow gives Big some kind of unexpected zetz (a George Foreman like punch) in maxillary central…and don’t you know, both front baby incisors were now flapping in the wind like laundry on a clothesline. Oh the tears. Little and remorse? Not so much. We were all ferhklempt (choked with emotion).

So what do we do? Like all good Jews, we nosh (eat a little something). A few scoops of ice cream later, she was back and ready for vacation action.

Fast-forward a few days, add another zetz (from you know who), and Big comes begging me to end her toothy tsuris (troubles).

“Mommy, Mommy, please! Just pull them out! I can’t take it anymore!” I cupped her sad, teary face and said to my bubelah (sweet heart), “Honey, are you sure?”

“Yes! Please! Just do it!”

And without even a tug, with barely a touch, her two front teeth fell gently into my hands. I hugged her, we all cheered and kvelled (oozed with pride) over her bravery. A regular Merida, she was. This simcha (joyous day) will bring the much-anticipated tooth fairy here, to the Manor!

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And as I welled up with pride, and looked through the tunnel, now fully opened in her newly formed smile, I winced with a venti-sized dose of shpilkas (anxiety/pins and needles). My Big, our first bubelah (sweet little girl), she is growing up.

Wasn’t it just ten minutes ago when she was born?

And there in lies my lament.

 

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Pass the Sauce #AgentSpitback #Linky Party 4-12-16
Pass the Sauce #AgentSpitback #Linky Party 4-12-16
linky 4-8-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #26
linky 4-8-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #26

 

Bloggers Pit Stop #18
#BloggersPitStop #18   4-8-16

Versatile Blogger Award

versatile-blogger-award

Today is a fabulous Monday for so many reasons. I will list them, because after all, it’s Monday, and who ever likes them anyway?

  • Today, I earned the Versatile Blogger Award from Mliae over at the amazing lifeexperimentblog. Check it out! Mliae is awesome, honest, authentic, and creative! TY Mliae! A great big ‘Mwah’ coming your way! This award is so special because it’s about recognition from fellow bloggers….Being such a newbie, I’m kvelling (so proud)!
  • Today, Monday is Friday because tomorrow, we leave to visit my Shvester (sister) and almost the whole mishpocheh (family, we’ll see Steve, Max and Vic)! Benny, we’ll miss you! We are headed to the only place on earth where having a mouse in the house is a priority! DISNEY! Little and Big have far surpassed excited!
  • #Syracuse made it to the FINAL FOUR! March Madness? March Nachas (goodness)!

Basics: Tell you 7 things that you don’t know about me already (therapy, here we go  again…)

  1. The Mrs. and me, we both have Jetta’s (her’s is nicer than mine, mine is cleaner than her’s–but to be fair, she schleps (drives) Little and Big all over creation customarily)
  2. I love hot, humid weather, and I despise being cold. I have 4 layers on now as I type–no joke
  3. Having der kinder (children) has made me more aware of my own mortality
  4. I love sushi
  5. and Chocolate Chip Mint ice cream
  6. Ellen Degeneres is my hero
  7. I so miss having unconditional, loving, dog energy around me

My Nominations:

Now, off to la la land, where I will dream of the coronation, the jeans and Dansko’s I’ll wear… Mliae, you rock! Thanks dear blogger friend!

 

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Rant, shmant…what to do about litter? Week 10

It's not like there is another planet we can go to
It’s not like there is another planet we can go to

Shhhhhh. She’s in therapy again. Help her.

Today at lunch I walked around and could not believe the dreck (crap, trash) I found

Just a little jaunt to breathe fresh air; feel the sun on my back and the wind in my hair

For spring had landed in Philadelphia – I wanted to stroll; feel a bit healthia’

The neighborhood, a very desirable place, had so much trash, it was a disgrace

I won’t belabor or beat this dead horse; rather let me show you as a matter of course:

whoever did this, shlepped (carried) it along lonng enough to drink it all
Shlepped (carried) it along long enough to drink it all, you nogoodnik!
You mean you can add littering to your bad choices?
Wonderful, add littering to your bad choices!
Recycling, not much?
Recycling, not so much. Kish mir en tuchis (kiss my ass butt)!
Sucha big macher (big shot) you are, Mr. Cigar. Such chazzerai (garbage, pig slop)
Such a big macher (big shot) you are, Mr. Cigar. Tidy, you are not.
May all your teeth fall out, except one, so that you can have a toothache.
Such schmutzik (filth) everywhere?
First, you eat bread made from yoga mats, now you do this? Feh!
Eat bread made from yoga mats, then you litter? Feh!
A shonda (shame) to toss a childs toy aside
A shonda (shame) to toss a toy aside, like chazzerai (pig slop)

Such a mess, this is tantamount to; people, I gotta’ ask? Who raised you?

Please all you folks who live out there, teach der kinder (the kids) well, make them aware.

 

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linky 3-25-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #24
linky 3-25-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #24

The Two Squabbling Shvesters (Sisters)

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Once upon a time, you see

Lived two little madelahs (girls), the Mrs. and me.

Little and Big would play all the day

The time would pass, just whittle away.

They’d laugh and they’d giggle, they’d and sing and they’d dance

Fight? Not them! There isn’t a chance.

The Mrs. and me would smile with pride

as Little and Big played side by side.

 

Time would pass, as time will do

And every day befell a hullaballoo.

Breathing deeply, calmly, our patience tried

How did Little and Big turn into Jekyll and Hyde?

They’d start off smiling, so sweet and so kind.

From there, their behaviors only declined.

Their voices would raise, they shrieked and they whined.

The Mrs. and me had no peace of mind.

 

Such tsuris (trouble) would arise; out went all delight.

These shvesters (sisters) would bicker, squabble and fight.

One would be crying, the other would scream.

What happened to our dear little family dream?

The Mrs. would lose it, and me, sure to follow

It was fisticuffs, just like Rocky vs. Apollo.

What transpired, so unpleasant, unfriendly and loud

Our own Manor version of a ‘mushroom cloud.’

 

So we breathed and exhaled, and tried hard not to yell.

But this bickering, snickering was feeling like hell!

Another approach was required post-haste

Or our neighbors would see that we’d soon be displaced.

We tried essential oils shmeared (spread) ‘cross their toes

In hopes the sniffer approach would reach up to their nose.

We begged Little and Big to cease and desist

We cried, we waxed on, we all hugged and we kissed.

der kinder, our shana madelahs
der kinder, our shana madelahs

Shvesters (sisters) look after each other; the drama must end!

No more combat or brawling, you should be best friends.

Your two mommas want you to have a great love and connection

Instead, might we have to hire you each some protection?

Feeling tired and raw, our parental flaws all exposed

This mishegas (craziness) somehow must get juxtaposed?

Surely our love will surpass this wild frustration

and der kinder (the kids) will reach a warm-hearted elation!

 

The Mrs. and me, growing tired and weary

know that life must go on, it can’t stay so dreary.

After all, most of the time they are trying their best

Surely us mommas won’t yet get depressed.

So today when I wake them for their day to begin

I’m hopeful and gleeful, I mustn’t chagrin.

For life with our girls will have tears, fill some oceans.

Buckle up, sit back, it’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

 

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Linky Live #ABitOfEverything @agentspitback Week 21 TY
Linky Live #ABitOfEverything @agentspitback
Week 21 TY

 

Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now!

Eyes, don’t deceive me now… Sometimes, you just have to wonder. Like for instance, when I was walking around on my lunch break, and came across this vision:

image

Either things are really progressing when it comes to dog-walking, or people are really digressing in terms of dealing with nature calling. Color me silly, but I fear the latter.

So, I tried to think about what other passers-by might have thought as they meandered across this less than idyllic scene. Please, as you read these next lines, conjure up the voice of an alte kocker (an old Jewish man or woman) for effect.

I should stop here a sec before we get to their house.” -translation: If you would have stopped along the way, like I begged you to, I wouldn’t have to pee in this nogoodnik’s (one with low morals) outdoor mess.

I should stop here a sec before we get to their house.” -translation: Oy, a balebustah (homemaker) she is not. Better I should go here, it’s probably cleaner.

“I should stop here a sec before we get to their house.” -translation: What, you think there is something wrong with that? I could brech (vomit) from the thought of eating her food. 

“I should stop here a sec before we get to their house.” -translation: Look at this drek (crap). What kind of neighborhood is this anyway?

“I should stop here a sec before we get to their house.” -translation: What? If you had a prostate you would understand! Mittendrinen (in the middle of everything), this is a mitzvah (good deed).

What? No toilet paper? A shanda (it’s a shame).

 

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Rant, Shmant, at least I can vent week 9: Driving

Curiously, a very famous, old, old cemetery is on the route
Curiously, a very famous, old, old cemetery is on the route

Luze zein shah! (Shush already!) Therapy in session…

I don’t know about you dear therapists, but driving around here has become outright mishegas (craziness). The people on the roads have taken a test, somehow passed and received a license to drive a vehicle! Oy vey (WTF)!

My morning drive is admittedly, one of the most beautiful in the entire world. A stunning commute filled with a bunch of mushuggenehs (crazies). It’s seven hellish miles. Magnificent zigzagging, tree-lined, pothole riddled roads that surround the waters of the Wissahickon and historic sites of age-old Philadelphia. After a dangerous merge, I head to another spectacular, snaky, curvaceous course that harkens back to the grandeur and prestige of a Thomas Eakins oil painting. Eakins, from the late 1870’s, devoted many years of his life creating oil paintings of the stuff I see every day — scullers and rowers on the Schuylkill River. Add runners, joggers, walkers and schvitzers (sweaty people) with their dogs, horses, and babies… Looking at the action alone could kill you.

image

On the journey that is my drive, fellow travelers multitask to a fault. Distracted, that would be a nice way to put it! They are talking, teleconferencing, texting, speeding, shaving, putting on eye-liner, singing to Adele, tying ties, fixing hair, checking for ‘bears in the cave,’ getting pissed at traffic, and screaming at talk radio hosts. All the while, the GPS is barking directions and ways to evoke more expeditious expeditions while Siri is chatting up local latte locations. Those with little people are either begging for silence so they can masterfully do all of the above while driving, or passing der kinder (the kids) a nice nosh (a little something to eat) and drink to quell the clamor. Cheerios flying, sippy-cups seeping while said kinder (children) are squirming in the car seats they will be trapped in until they are dropped at the university dormitory.

Traffic, gawking, gaper-delays all add to the madness. I see too many accidents each day as part of my pillar to post routine. It’s frightening. When I don’t see the actual smash-up, I see the car remnants, the rubber tread marks on the road, the broken glass, the bits and chunks of bent metal objects. It’s a shonda (shame).

I absolutely do not text and drive (any more). I often talk; always hands-free. I’ll never switch to an incoming call while on the phone unless I am at a red light and it is really important. I listen to NPR. I sometimes cry in the car. I go the speed limit, prompting many evil looks and ugly hand gestures. And I watch closely, because it is terrifying out there.

image

Do you remember etiquette on the road? Be a mensch (good person) already and let someone in your lane or out of a parking lot. Pay if forward, will you please? Wave and nod as a thank you. It won’t kill you. Maybe smile a little…it’s contagious you know. It’s really not such a kockamayme (ridiculous) idea to show some politeness.

Well that’s my kvetching (ranting) today. Drive nicely people. It’s a mitzvah (good thing) to arrive alive each direction.

Gay ga zinta hate (go in good health).

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linky 3-18-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #23
linky 3-18-16 #FabFridayPost Linky #23

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

thanks to @ethannevelyn and @bumbismom

Straight from the pen of Big

Big, My Mighty Girl
Big, My Mighty Girl

Little and Big are always up to the most amazing things at school. These two mommas are constantly blown away by what they are learning and how truly hands-on their experiences are. I’m gonna kvell (ooze with pride) now a bit over Big and the art of persuasion.

Get a load of these two letters she brought home:

One for the Mrs. and me:

image

One for Little:

image

Now that is my Mighty Girl in Action.

The Mrs. and I agreed, and so did Little. Onward! Keep up the amazing job #Miquon teachers. You rock! Keep working the #Miquon Magic!

 

Linky:

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Meet and Greet Link: 3/11/16

Danny @dreambigdreamoften.com @dray0308 is the awesome connector of the blogosphere. Ty Danny !!

Dream Big, Dream Often

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I hope your Saturday is off to a great start!

The Meet and Greet continues today so be sure to stop by and visit other bloggers.  I want to remind everyone as to what I consider to be the most powerful aspect of the MnG concept and that is to visit other sites and introduce yourself.  Leaving your link and leaving is one method, but it is the least effective method.  Leave your link and then spend some time reaching out to others!

And don’t forget, you can leave your link multiple times!!

Meet and Greet Link 3/11/16

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Rant, Shmant, at least I can vent…Week 8 is about ME

Flip-flops!
Flip-flops!

Shhhhh. Breakthrough therapy session in progress!

 Week 8! We need some progress. Today’s rant is all about me and my shtick (routine actions). I can most certainly do a few things in my life differently to save time, effort, energy, and all around self-made tsuris (trouble) and shpilkas (inner turmoil). This can allow me to be more present: As a parent, a partner, a person on the planet. That is a pretty important goal. So what follows dear therapists, is a list of the 5 things I will try, try, try very hard to break in my, well, shtick! Please note this is by no means a manifesto…I’m a work in progress. (Note to the Mrs., Little and Big: THIS-IS-ALL-ABOUT-ME. The queen of all OCD raised me. A master, she is. And, well, some things still remain.)

  1. The dishwasher. You and I have a strange relationship. Whenever I open you up, I have a need to re-stack and alter your contents. This is not to judge you, but to be more efficient and organized. Hey Dish, it’s your life. If you want to crowd your stuff all willy-nilly, so be it. No big mitziah (deal). Whether I can fit more in and allow you to wash more proficiently will no longer matter. I am going to focus on the fact that you are not in the sink and see the mitzvah (good deed) in that.
Because life goes by so fast, it's a blur...
Because life goes by so fast, it’s a blur…
  1. The toilet paper roll. Whether you roll over top, underneath, or sit atop the holder, I will just be grateful that you are there when I need you. I’m no TP maven (expert) so any way you show up, preferably in the bathroom, will suffice. 
  1. Laundry. Oh how I hate you. You are always there, ready to be washed, fluffed, folded and put away. I will try to take some days off from your siren like calling. I will only really fold my items, the towels and perhaps some of the nicer things all my girls wear. As for drawers and their contents, I will be my own keeper. 

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  1. Food under Little’s Seat. Kaynahorah (warding off the evil eye) to my little tactile eater. You indulge and enjoy and really feel (and squish and mush) and ‘experience’ your food. It took me until my 40’s, when the Mrs. and I took a course on mindful dining, to be so engaged. You are awesome my shana madelah (beautiful little girl). Continue to ess a bissel (eat a little) your way. In the morning’s when I do Tai Chi, and things go crunch under foot, azoy vert dus kuchel tzekrokhen (literally, that’s the way the cookie crumbles). I will breathe and smile. 
  1. Stuff in general. Life here at the Manor is the closest this family will get to living in a ‘tiny home.’ So, when a few things are left out and about, it’s easy to get a bissel farhklempt (a little distraught). What’s to shvitz (sweat) over? No more utzing (nagging, like a pebble in your shoe) you. 

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The goal here my dear mishpocheh (family), is for me to loosen up. Not get so meshuggeneh (crazy). Make memories, be more present. After all, I’m no yeller. I’m a kveller (one who gushes with pride)!

What do you thing doc’s? How am I doing? Please let me know.

 

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Linky Live #ABitOfEverything @agentspitback @MrsGrohl14
Week 20 TY
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Fresh from the Mouth of Little

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After relentless explanation from the Mrs. and me to both Little and Big about being quiet, having a quiet voice, being considerate of our neighbors above us and below us, this little gem of a conversation happened when I came home from work. Backpack not even off yet; very serious tone from Little

Little: M. is quiet all the time. Like even when she talks.

Me: Well maybe you can learn a thing or two from M., and share it with your sister?
Little:  Well (very long and pregnant pause), she throwed up today.
End of conversation! Oh how I love my shana madelah (little girl)!
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Today’s blog is brought to you by the letter B!

The Buss, photo credit willowandsage1 (the Mrs.)
The Buss, photo credit willowandsage1 (the Mrs.) 

Big B, Little b, what begins with B?

Botox begins with B

Also known as Botulism toxin or BTX. And for this Botox we are not talking about leveling out the creases, crinkles and wrinkles that now beautify my pain strained face. Nope. This Botox will be injected into the back of my neck and all over my scalp to plainly paralyze the pain. In return, I will also sport the back head and cranium of an 18 year-old. The goal of injecting botulism is to aid and abet my bionics in controlling the incredulous chronic discomfort caused by occipital neuralgia, cervical dystonia, bruxism and the other dreck (crap) that can basically be defined as a PAIN IN MY NECK.

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Bionics begins with B

Bionics as in the little machine installed just above my right tuchas (butt) cheek. Its wires wend their way up to the occipital borough of my neck where the magical leads are proficiently positioned. Bionics, from Boston Scientific, alters my brain waves to say, “Hey, that doesn’t hurt so much, ya know?” Bionics are a game changer.

Big Pharma begins with B

Big Pharma is akin to the prescription drug biz that makes medications like Botox. These meds cost big bucks, despite having Blue Cross Blue Shield. What’s an exorbitant bill? When your co-pay is similar to your take home pay.

Boychiks (two young lads) begins with B

Boychiks, as in my two neurological besties, who continue to offer benefits like both Botox and Bionics. These medical miracle makers, yes, they’re doctors, give me hope for better days ahead.image

 Bubelah’s (the affectionate way of referring to my girls) begins with B

My bubelah’s, der kinder (the kids), my shana madelahs (pretty little girls) and of course, the Mrs., they bring me such joy each day—well, basically each and every day! They are hope and my daily simcha (joyous occasion). 

Buds begin with B

Buds are the hope that comes with spring, and quite frankly things like Botox and Bionics. Buds make me beam and believe in warmer clime and sunnier times.

 

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Blogging begins with B

Blogging makes me happy.  Blogging makes me blissful. It gives me a healthy outlet to vent, share and kvell (boast), and allows me entrée to you, my therapists. Blogging is cathartic and liberating. Hopefully, it somehow touches you in a beneficial way, or at least makes you beam or chortle a bissel (little).


A bei gezunt (As long as you are healthy.).
 Well, it almost begins with B.  Nu?

 

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Rant, Shmant, at least I can vent…week 7

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Be very, very quiet. Patient in therapy session…sorry I’m late!

It’s week 7 therapists…how about we get a breakthrough?

It’s been a strange week. I’ve been late a lot, and I despise lateness. Let me premise that with the fact that I am never late. I arrive everywhere chronically early and answer emails, do puzzles, write, play with photos, etc. I was late for a doctor’s appointment. I was late for work. I am late for my Friday rant, as made obvious by the fact that today is Saturday and here I am, kvetching (ranting) in tardiness. Some of this is due to incredibly bad traffic and construction. Some of this is due to little bits of frozen precipitation that totally makes every Philly driver a texting, talking, driving fool. Some of this is because it’s been an incredibly physically hard week for me. Whether its barometric pressure, stress, lack of sleep, anxiety, posture, or crap for luck, I have a tremendous amount of neck pain. But, at the end of the day, I own it. I am late and I am sorry.

Worry, shmorry. I am hoping, to quote Little, ‘that for real life’ we are actually living inside a TV reality show. I fear that we are just looking like one to the rest of the world. “Cue the sun!” I feel truly embarrassed to be an American. The GOP is really making mockery of us so easy to all who watch, read, and see—with the exception of the swelling, puffed-up outpouring of people who believe in these cartoon nudniks (annoying, pain in the tuchas (arse) kind of folk) and buffoons, and late night comedians who are thankful. Alevai (may it all come to pass).

“It’s nine p.m.! Let’s tune in to the United States.”

“Oh how I love that show. It’s just hysterical. Ideocracy in action.”

“Who are the geniuses that dreamt up this ratings smash?”

“What great writing! Where did they find these characters?”

“Is this that the new show by the Coen brothers?”

During the GOP debate, did they really talk about the size of Drumpf’s schlong (penis)? Are we concerned with his peckel (package)? Are there no adults left in the room? And Mitt, why on earth did you pop up with your talking head now? Are the American people supposed to believe and trust in what you say? The guy who through his hat in the ring and LOST wants you to think about how valuable his opinion is so please, vote for anyone but the large-handed, badly quaffed guy that rhymes with RUMP? How did you get this cameo role? You had your 15 minutes…

Folks, think about it. Do you really want any one of these schlemeils (remaining fab four) to take on Lil’ Kim in North Korea? Putin? Possibly choose the next robed player to sit with the Supremes, the role with a lifetime sentence. There’s not a mensch (good guy) among them.

“That one guy wants to build a wall to keep out all the Mexicans”

“Don’t forget about banning all Muslims from entering the country.”

“He’s openly racist! Awesome”

“What brand of spray tan do you think he uses? He always looks so healthy.”

“Do you think in next weeks episode, he’ll free Chris Christie?”

This isn’t just a phase. This isn’t a reality show—it’s a real, live circus that we all have tickets to gain entry. My seats are quite close to the elephant dung.

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I’m supposed to make the world a better place for my kinder (children), Little and Big. I will vote, continue to opine, and do what I can for democracy and democrats. After all, I’m a lefty, liberal, jewish lesbian… What will you do? Oi gevalt (heaven forbid) what could happen…

Symptoms: Anxiety. Fear. Sleeplessness. Sever pain. Incredible desire to be an expat. Won’t you help me therapists?

 

 

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And then she was eight…

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Today, Big, my shana madelah (sweet little girl) turns eight. About ten minutes ago, she was born. I remember the night before when the Mrs. felt a little funny. I said there is no way I’m going to work tomorrow, and she laughed it off. After all, it was a full week early, and anyone who knows my Mrs. knows that she does early (honey I say this lovingly, mwah!), well, not so much.

We went to bed that night and were both restless. By 4 am, contractions were coming. By six am, we were on our way to the hospital. I notified the essential mishpocheh (family), and we were on our way. The city was tranquil. I tried my best to dodge every pothole to make the ride as painless as possible, no easy task in Philly in early March.

We checked in and the Mrs. was checked out. One cm. Hmmm. They called our midwife, who was in no rush to make it in. She had the chutzpah (nerve, more like gall) to think this would be normal, like other births. Feh! Our nurse came in and helped us through a major contraction. I held the hand of my love, and wished I could make her pain go away. My kishkas (intestines) were in knots. I could only imagine what she felt. The nurse and I watched what looked like a seismograph for earth quakes—we waited for the line to max out, and then come back down. When it didn’t, the nurse looked at me and mouthed, “WTF?” I mouthed, “WTF” right back, and said, “do something!” We were definitely not in birthing class anymore. This was definitely mishegas (craziness).

We both cried aloud for meds! Bring ‘em on. Epidural! Set me up too! Stat! The anesthesiologist arrived too late to begin. The Mrs. was in full on labor, and they raced us over to delivery. No meds for this ride. Oy vey. To make a long story short, Big came into this world like greased lightning. Less than 3 hours start to finish.

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They placed her little perfect body right on top of the Mrs., skin to skin. A more beautiful scene, I have never witnessed. She was wriggling, cooing, almost dancing. They were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I witnessed the miracle that is Big, and the Mrs.; she left me awestruck (as she often does).

And today, in just a few hours, she will wake up and be 8. Wow. I am still awestruck by them all, My Mrs., my Big, and my Little. Der kinder (the children). My family.

Big, she may just have the biggest heart on the planet. She is thoughtful, kind, compassionate, creative, sweet, loving, sensitive, smart, strong and beautiful, both inside and out. She is a gutte nushema, a mensch among mensches (a truly good and kind person). Like a little Mrs., she is.

Today, like a tree she is growing tall, her front tooth is all wiggly, and she dances and glides through the air as she walks.

Cheppy Boyzay (Happy Birthday) Big! Mommy loves you so, my shana madelah.

This Yiddisher Mama is so lucky. Tonight, bobka (cake) for everyone! I’m kvelling (gushing with pride and joy)!

 

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It’s been a bumpy road, but we’re still driving!

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On Saturday, the time had come for me and the Mrs. to turn in her car because the lease was up. I was concerned because the car was, let’s say, very lived in, with a lot of memorable experiences . It was totally ‘kid-ified.’ To her amazing credit, the Mrs. did a bang-up clean up in the nick of time, and it showed rather well.

On our drive over, der kinder (the kids) in tow, my agita (anxiety, in Italian I think?) was palpable and we were all desperately in need of a good laugh. It had been a rough week for multiple reasons, least of all our need for frugality.

I put my hand on the Mrs. shoulder while she was driving and said, “Honey, when we get to VW place, the ground is the limit!”

The Mrs., she started with a small chuckle, and landed into a nice, hearty gaffaw! We all started laughing, and so began our new journey with the greatest sound my ears can ever hear.

Laughter is the best medicine.

 

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Linky Live #ABitOfEverything @agentspitback @MrsGrohl14 Week 19 TY
Linky Live #ABitOfEverything @agentspitback @MrsGrohl14
Week 19 TY

 

 

Rant, Shmant, at least I can vent…Week 6

 

Shhhh. Please be quiet...therapy again! Yup.
Shhhh. Please be quiet…therapy again! Yup.

My rants of the past few weeks have been a little on the ample

Like politics and racism, just to give you an example

Today I’ll take it down a stretch and act a bit more tranquil

And leave my lefty, liberal thoughts and opines, for some of you will be thankful

 

I despise it, laundry the charge that never ends

Despite the amount you do, it continues and transcends

If we had one, we could bagroben (bury or hide) it all deep within the basement

Then the Mrs. and the Kinder (kids) would look at me with such amazement

 

The clothes are always inside out and the bin is overflowing

The stench gets rather pungent and the hallway somewhat glowing

It’s never in the hamper rather scattered all about

What is dirty, what is clean? Is something regularly I shout

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Please use your towels more than once do you think this is my only job?

Pick up those scattered dirt-drenched things and stop living like a slob

It’s almost time to essen (eat) so we can’t change our clothes anew

And there are only three out of four of us who are neat enough when we chew

 

As for sorting out the colors from the others in the bin

When something is mis-washed or spun, it’s deemed a venal sin

If something should be hanging but somehow makes it through the dryer

You’ll find me running for the hills as if my hair were lit on fire

 

Darks and lights, black or white, what about the stripes

Lately there are too many categories and subsequent subtypes

Fancy little outfits, sheets, knits, towels, maybe a sweater

Farmisht (befuddled), I just put everything on delicate-cold, I’m trying to be better

 

As for the lone socks, I alone will simply not accept the pressure

For mix-matched wearing is quite fashionable, a real wardrobe refresher

Fargessen (forgot) and doing the same load for two to three days makes me go berserk

Yet heeding that annoying buzzer has not yet become knee-jerk

 

She who does the wash and finds gelt (cash) in the washer/dryer

While fun and gleeful, it’s just a bissel (little), not nearly enough to inspire

What is the point of folding when all the drawers are a complete mess?

Well, at least not mine, one out of four, of that I can confess

 

Putting away the farkakteh (pain in the tuchas-butt) laundry is a struggle I abhor

Perhaps clean clothes and such should be in a jumble on the floor

A baleboosteh (great housekeeper) I am not. And laundry, fun? No way

Nudist? Naked? Maybe? Just think of all those hours saved each and every day

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Our house is STILL covered in sick! Oy Vey!

Can these two really be the carriers?
These two, can they really be the carriers?

The Mrs. mentioned that our flat here at the Manor has become somewhat of a convalescence home. I added that we don’t seem to be restorative or showing any signs of improvement since last November when the first ‘–itis’ hit our mishpocheh (family). Our little petri dishes, Little and Big, share their cooties a bit too freely.

Keep the tune of a Hard Day’s Night in your head as you read this little ditty…

It’s been a hard long night, and we’ve been feelin’ just like dreck (crap, ca-ca)

Our skin has turned a dulling white we really are a pain in the neck

And when we get out of bed we feel the pain in our heads

Won’t let us see daylight

 

You know we work every day to eat real healthy and exercise

But no matter what we do or say

The microbes make us just wanna cry

Despite the Lysol clean wipes we can’t unclog our nose pipes

The bugs just won’t go away

 

When we sneeze, germs discharge all around us

When we cough, its like we were hit by a bus, bus yeah

 

It’s been a hard long day, how long can we endure this lack of zest

And the feeling of proverbial brech (to vomit) can leave us emotionally so depressed

The tsuris (heartache) is too much to take, what’s the point of awake

When we feel so feh (physically and emotionally disgusted)!

 

It’s been a long four months hosting germs ‘n feelin’ so unkempt

And it’s worth it just to hear you say

You must be overwhelmed and so farhklempt (emotionally choked-up)

So let’s get out of that bed and get our clothes on instead

It’s gonna be okay

 

When we sneeze, germs discharge all around us

When we cough, its like we were hit by a bus, bus yeah

 

May our homes soon be rid of these invisible nogudniks (bad guys, in this instance, germs) that lurk in our air. May our kinder (children) really use soap and sing the A,B,C’s twice as they wash their hands. Let the schmutz (dirt and grime, in this case, mucus) stop dripping from our many orifices.  Gutinue (at last, with exasperation), enimageough already!


A bie gezunt
(as long as we are healthy!)

 

May there be hope!

 

 

 

 

 

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Beauty and the Beast, Theatre Adventure!

Off to the Theatre!

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Finally, after much ado and a very long wait since Santa left them for us, the Mrs. and I took Little, Big and their Toffey (Grandpa—self proclaimed name that means The Old Fart) to see Beauty and the Beast. The traveling cast came to our fair city and we soaked in the culture like a plant thirsting for water.

First, as we waited outside for the doors to open, we grew beholden to the splendor that is The Academy of Music, located on the Avenue of the Arts in downtown Philly. Big, maven (expert) that she is, had been going on and on to Little about theatre, the stage and live performances. Just over 5 years ago, we took Big to see Mary Poppins at the very same place. She was plotzing (exploding with excitement)! We stood outside and took in all of the buildings’ magnificence, while purchasing soft pretzels the size of yardsticks. Theatre watching can bring out the ‘hangry’ in the best of us, and when in Philly, nosh (eat) like a Philadelphian.

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We had tickets in hand and made our way up to the (nosebleed) seats, aptly called, Family Circle. We were sitting among young dapper dressed dudes and the many ‘Belles’ of this ball. Despite our ears popping and slight signs of altitude sickness, our seats were awesome. The kinder (kids) didn’t know what to look at first…the columns, the people, the orchestra pit, the curtains, the lights…sponges, they are! Once the play began, many kinder (children) kept twisting their necks to see the main spotlight and it’s keeper, located right behind us.

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The noshing (eating) took place immediately, which led to the insatiable thirst, which permeated throughout the performance. Toffey, always a mensch (warm, good soul), made the journey to the water fountain, many times.

The orchestra started tuning up. Big asked if they were practicing, and if they knew we could hear them. Soon, the magic of Broadway began. The most adorable thing from Little was this exchange:

Little: Mommy, are they for real, like for real live people singing for real live songs?

Me:     Of course they are sweetie, isn’t it amazing?

Little: No Mommy, I mean, like really. Are they alive, like us? Do they have for real families?

Me:     Yes honey. They are alive like you and me. And they have families and people who love them.

Little: Wow. I can’t believe they are for real life! This is so cool.

The show was fantastic fun. As you probably know, the Beast, he’s not such a bad guy. After a serious bout with vanity, and endless time as a nasty nebekh (poor soul) he becomes a haimish’a (warm and loving guy) schlemiel (dolt, oaf) to our Belle. Belle, kaynahorah (without an evil eye), saw the wonderful goodness and worth in this threatening-looking brute, and they become friends, and then later, friends with benefits. Everyone in the castle becomes human again and the evil spell cast his way was broken.

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When they sang, “Be our Guest,” we roared! When they sang “Beauty and the Beast,” we ‘awwwwwwwed.” The girls were dehydrated and hangry despite the pretzel-ators and the water fountain visits. They twisted and fidgeted all over the Mrs., very unusual behavior for my little madelahs (girls). Toffey loved watching the girls enjoy this experience, almost as much as he enjoyed the show. Me too

Later that night, after a nice, early dinner, we dropped Toffey off at his house and starting talking about the play on the drive home. We kibitzed (gossiped) about our favorite scenes from the play and what we learned. We talked about being good people on the planet, treating people with respect and dignity and knowing that beauty is so much more than skin deep. No one had to start a social media campaign stating that #BeastsMatter?

We landed just where most of my posts on this blog end up: #HumanityMatters.

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Rant, Shmant, as long as I can vent week 5

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Quiet please! Therapist is in session (with a loon!)

Privacy is driving me meshugener (crazy). Who has any? As a mom, or a parent/caregiver, when was the last time you went to the bathroom by yourself? Showered without interruption? Little and Big are always asserting and inserting their presence, no matter what seems to be happening. Last week, the Mrs. And I snuck away in the middle of the Parent Trap just to have a conversation. Nothing secret, sacred, or even sordid! We thought for sure that Lindsay Lohan as a kinder (child) would hold their stare. We were in the bathroom with the door shut, kibitzing (talking). Don’t you know, that not five minutes into our conversation, we hear a geshrei (scream) from Little, “WHERE ARE YOU?” Mittendrinnen (in the middle of) the scene where the parents see each other after all those years, they are banging on the door. Mind you, I’m still kvelling (overjoyed with pride) over how sweet they were, their genuine concern of the Mrs. and me, but c’mon!

After reading the news, I realize we have no privacy anywhere. There are cameras everywhere! One can receive a speeding ticket by mail with a picture of your offending car! There are satellite and surveillance cameras capturing our every move. Is my computer watching me type right now? Probably. What about the cloud? How many snoopers and cyber-yentas (gossips) are sifting through all of that stuff?

Do you read the terms and conditions every time you get a new app or open an online account? Not me! I read bubkas (nothing) and blindly click ‘accept!’ They are all in 8-point font and go on and on, using legalese, forever. They are designed to be unreadable. A shonda (shameful)!

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Somehow Facebook knows when I by something on Amazon. This changes my algorithms (is this what they meant in elementary school when they said we’ll use math our whole life?) that create my timeline feeds, and suddenly I see other things similar to or accessories for what I just bought. Is this kosher (legit)? Google knows more about me than my parents (well, that’s for another posting, I promise).

Which brings me to Tim Cook and the pressure cooker he seems to be schvitzing (sweating) in. Stand your ground Tim! Don’t give up the goods to the Bureau! You have gotta know that I’m all for stopping really bad, bad guys and terrorists. But this very big ask by the Elliot Ness’s of the world is one slippery slope for our freedom and liberty.

How many big corporations and retail locations have already been hacked? How can we feel safe knowing there can might be one piece of magical code out there in the ether that can unlock our iPhones and let everyone know how many friends we have to play Words with Friends with? This code can simply and easily undermine decades of security measures and advancements that have been taken by Apple and every tech company that we interact with, to keep out the uber-erudite hackers and cyber-gonifs (thieves).

Today, phones house everything that our desktops, laptops and tablets used to hold, or more. They are the gateway to our entire lives. I respect law enforcement and I cannot even begin to comprehend the kind of pressure they are under to keep us safe. But please, please, keep the back door locked Tim. This is one pandora of a box, kaynahorah (geeze-louise) we shouldn’t open! Be the alrightnik (successful) mensch (good person) that you are and continue to protect the world for my kids, and everyone else.

 

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Rant, Shmant, as long as I can vent…Week 4

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Quiet: Therapy session number four in progress (Readers remember, you are my therapists!)

This week, my shpilkas (excessive worry) is about, well,  for the sake of brevity, I will limit it to three things:

  • Racial tension
  • Flint, Michigan
  • Donald Trump

When I look at this list, I realize the things that are constant in all of these very real topics, are trust and hope, or a real lack thereof.

Pistanthrophobia: The fear of trusting someone, something. Is that my problem? Is it really so wrong to want to believe in reliability and truth? I’m not asking for rose-colored glasses. We all started school with some wonderful nursery and/or kindergarten teacher that reinforced this basic notion of not becoming a shmuck (jerk, a-hole)? Yet look at the news. Look at what has become acceptable in our culture.

I pass this church every day on my way to and from work. The t-shirts are representative of the #BlackLivesMatter movement in Philadelphia
I pass this church every day on my way to and from work. The t-shirts are representative of the #BlackLivesMatter movement in Philadelphia

Racial tension: We call it ‘tension’ when we KILL innocent people because we are not comfortable with the color of their skin? Unarmed black teenagers are being killed by armed white police officers. White people kill black kinder (children) carrying skittles and iced tea. Tension is nervousness, anxiety, aka shpilkas. This is not racial tension. This is an abomination! An atrocity!

We need to own up to the fact that we have a real problem of racial bias in our country. Yes, we elected a black president, but we prove all too often that we are not color blind. Our president had to discuss this during his last State of the Union message. He said we have real problems between blacks and whites in our country.

The problems are learned behaviors. No one is born a racist, they are taught. When will there be a time that we all welcome difference, diversity. Embrace it. Vey is mer (woe is me, this is shocking!)… A shonda (such a shame)

 

Flint, Michigan: Color me skeptical, but if the big machers (important people) in Flint have been lying to their citizens for years (decades maybe), what other cities are under fire? Do we only know about Flint because the water flowed brown? Lead pipes are all over. Cities are adding anti-corrosive treatments to water systems so we don’t see the brown, taste the weirdness and measure the lead? What’s in the anti-corrosives? Look at what is going in Pennsylvania alone (thank you vox.com) where we have 18 cities with higher levels of lead than Flint! Oh, to be safe, please, drink bottled water in the meantime. Then, mittendrinnen (in the middle of this three ringed circus), Pepsi comes out and says, Oops. That Dasani you’ve been drinking. Tap water. Is that so wrong?

So now, there is a FAST START plan to replace all of the lead pipes in Flint. Th plan is based based on a lot of “assumptions.” Well, we know what happens when you assume…

These gonifs (thief’s) do/did gornischt (nothing) because green was a color they liked better than brown. Vey is mer (woe is me, this is shocking!)… A shonda (such a shame)

Donald Trump. Really? The man with the chutzpah (balls, kahunas, unmitigated gall) who said, “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, okay, and I wouldn’t lose any voters, okay?” “It’s, like, incredible.”

The audience laughed. I got chills.

Donald is leading the way by preaching fear to the American people. He is stoking the flames of panic by using every stereotype available about race, religion, ethnicity and immigration. He has no appetite for women’s rights or marriage equality. This is the man that may be placing the next SCOTUS members?

Will Kim Kardashian be his VP? Will the Oval office become the next big TV Nielsen ratings killer?

“Did you see the Donald on Weorst Wing last night? Yeah, he pushed the button and 86-ed three global leaders! Said two of them were bad and one was just ugly. It was so awesome, dude.”

While this is the stuff of dreams for SNL writers and comedians, this is real for you and me. Vey is mer (woe is me, this is shocking!)…A shonda (such a shame)

Little and Big deserve better, don't you think?
Little and Big deserve better, don’t you think?

I have two little girls that need to grow up in this United States. I want for them a world that is good, kind and empathic. As I keep saying, writing, in hopes that it will take off and become reality, #HumanityMatters.

 

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linky 2-12-16
linky 2-12-16
Linky Live a la agent spitback!
Linky Live a la agent spitback!