Next Up On Our Itinerary

Next up on our itinerary while the husband is away:  Vomiting.  Not just any vomiting, mind you, vomiting FROM THE TOP BUNK.

Oh happy freaking day!  Our kids are very rarely sick, but why, oh why, are they about 83.2% more likely to get ill/injured while their father is thousands of miles away?

Why?  Why?

That's it.  I've had it.  I'm creating a wishlist.

Here is what I wish for. Should you be at a loss for what to get me, pick from any one (or combination) of these:

1. More towels (since SEVEN full-sized ones were used to clean up and most of the others are packed)
2. A maid (so someone other than me could have cleaned up using those aforementioned towels)
3. An additional washer/dryer set (to clean the tons of towels, sheets, shoes, and curtains [YES, she hit the freaking curtains ACROSS THE ROOM] contaminated during top bunk vomit hockey)
4. Twelve extra sets of hands to switch that laundry from washer to dryer and then to fold all the laundry (plus the existing 4 loads already in the washer/dryer before top bunk vomit hockey 3000).
5. A full body massage.  

That last one doesn't make any sense you say?  I say, "SCREW YOU!"  I have none of those things and so I'M the one doing all the clean up, so I freaking deserve it!

1 AM EDIT:

Now my son is vomiting too. It's Top Bunk Vomit Hockey 3000 part DEUX. Oh happy day!

 He made it to the bathroom, but, in the dark, didn't see the lid was down and threw up all over it.  Then he wiped his mouth on my towel--the only one left after all the others were used to clean up after his sister.  Need I remind you that the laundry basket, washer AND dryer are all currently in use.

Mind if I add a pedicure and a bottle of rum to that wishlist?

Wordless Wednesday: Notes

I guess it's not really "Wordless," since these are actually pictures of words.  You can all deal, though.

Here are notes from the children that they've written in the past week.

Coffee and a balloon (on the back of a card for me)

Letter to Daddy

Wordless Wednesday

Kids' Questions For The Universe

Today, we passed a Fed-ex truck and my son asked,

"Why do they call it that if they don't serve you food?"

Get it?  Fed?  Yeah, took me a minute too.  

Quotable Christians

Welcome to a new segment I like to call Quotable Christians.  Since I have my, "You Know You're A Jew When," moments, I figured I'd toss this out for my Christians friends (for me, really.  I just needed an excuse to share this). 

I reserve the right to have future installments of Quotable Christian the Athiest Edition or the Muslim Edition.  

This evening's quotable Christian quotation is this little ditty from a friend; 


"She couldn't carry a tune in a bucket with a lid.  It's an act of Christian charity to go to mass every Sunday and not bean her over the head with a song book."  

You Know You're a Jew When...

Every once in a while, we have moments we like to call, "You know you're a Jew when," moments.

My Jewish Cheetah

For example, we had one last Chanukah, while on the way to the rabbis' house, we passed other houses (decorated for Xmas) and E asked in disgust, "Why did they hang their socks on their front door?"  In related news, my youngest daughter has a doll named Gut Shabbos. My son, while playing dress up, puts on parts of an animal costume AND a kippah and announces, "Take a picture of me.  I'm a Jewish Cheetah."  My older daughters put a nursing pad on the cat's head and announce, "She's one of us now." Yeah, it's kinda like that.

We had another such moment today.

Picture this scene:  I'm picking up my kippah-sporting kindergartener (wearing a kippah from his very own collection of kippot, mind you, not a rent-a-kippah from the font by the door) from religious school.  In his hands, he has a folder full of aleph bet worksheets apple crafts and shofar coloring pages.  Under that folder is (yet another) book about Chanukah which he has taken out from Sefer Safari.

I can't remember what on earth we were discussing as we walked down the hall, but he turned and asked, "Yeah, what's UP with that?"

Oh. my. stars!  This kid might as well be Yochanan ben Seinfeld.

So, you see, at moments like those, you are absolutely, positively, without a doubt, a Jew.  These are also often the moments when you are, absolutely, positively, without a doubt,  rolling on the floor with laughter.

This Place Feels So Unfamiliar, Yet I Know It Well.

"I think I used to belong here, but the only way I can tell is that I miss you still and I cannot find you here..."

And so it begins.

The husband has reached his destination.  I'm here.  I'm doing the sole parenting thing.  I'm surrounded by people.  I'm lonely.

I ate dinner in the sukkah last night at shul and sat alone.  There were more people there than I've ever seen at sukkot, yet I wrangled the kids by myself.  Idiot me didn't think about the hell that is a buffet dinner with 4 children, especially one who needs a high chair, but someone else always gets the lone high chair first.  The youngest was in "fine" form and people laughed as I tried to carry two plates of food while herding her with my foot.  :::sigh:::

After countless people gave me amused looks and outright laughed at me (I haven't consulted my rabbi, but I'm fairly certain beating people isn't shomer shabbat, which is good, because I very well might have otherwise), a very sweet woman (also mother of 4, but hers are all grown) jumped up and carried my plates to our table.  I could have kissed her if I wasn't busy trying to keep the youngest restrained (remember, someone else beat me to the high chair).

The kids opted to move inside after the flies started winning the battle for dinner.  So I rounded up all our things (which was cumbersome and frustrating) and the youngest (who was also cumbersome and frustrating) and made my way inside--to the lone table in the back.  The kids inhaled the rest of their food and ran to play with their friends.  I sat there alone (with the youngest, but since her dinner conversation leaves much to be desired, I'll consider myself "alone").

I had hoped to sit and chat with a friend, but her baby exploded, so she had to rush off.  I took the youngest to the play room where a friend and a new acquaintance were, but they soon filed out to head back to the festivities in the sukkah (to which I tried to return, but the youngest made that difficult & I didn't want to distract the others).  So we headed back to the playroom where I cleaned up all the while feeling very sorry for myself.

At shul after services this morning, I thought I heard my husband's voice and it took me a second to realize that wasn't possible.  That was a let down (and not in the good milk-spraying way).

Gah!  Just gah!  It's only just begun.  GAH, I say (this time in all caps, although I'll forgo the use of excessive punctuation to show my displeasure).  

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Knock Knock. Who's there? Reality

Courtesy of Awkward Family Photos

Reality is tap dancing on my doorstep and it's not pretty.

The husband leaves in four days.  :-o

We've known this was coming, but as the date gets closer, it's just starting to hit me.

On top of him moving before us, is the insane bill he's going to accrue for the hotel where he'll be staying.  Even though he researched and found the cheapest option, it will still cost nearly twice our mortgage.  That terrifies me.

Now I really hope we sell this place quickly.  At the same time, I'd like to spend some more time here with my friends before we go.  The kids have a good friend's Halloween birthday party they're dying to attend.  During Break the Fast, they rambled on and on about what they're going to do at that party and who will be here.  The husband tried to remind them that we might not be here at the end of next month.  I reminded him, that based on average time on the market in our area, we have months ahead of us.  That thought seems overwhelming and helpless.

During Yom Kippur services, I realized that was his last Shabbat here.  Going into the high holidays, I knew they would be our last here, but the fact that it would be his last Shabbat snuck up on me.  I was near tears at one point, just looking around the sanctuary.  I want to memorize every last bit of it.  That, however, is another post for another day.

Until then, we'll continue working on the house, trying to shove in as many appointments as possible before he leaves and fighting back reality and its horrible tap routine as it shuffle ball changes right smack into the middle of our lives.  There WILL be jazz hands.  You can bet there will be jazz hands and they won't be pretty.

Teshuvah, Tefillanh and Tzedakah

From Chabad.org

Teshuvah: Repentance (Returning)
Tefillah: Prayer
Tzedakah: Charity

It is only through these that we can honor Yom Kippur to its fullest.


A recent Jewish Treat declared, "At this time of year, tzedakah, charity, is particularly potent to avert an evil decree."

It suddenly occurred to me that Yom Kippur begins TOMORROW evening (imagine a gasp of horror here) and more than a mild panic crept over me.

Tzedakah!  I haven't given nearly enough tzedakah. 

Then I stopped to think about it and calmed myself down.

You see, every single time someone asks for sponsors for a walk/ride/some other fundraiser, I donate.  Whether it's a good friend who asks directly or someone who posts on Facebook that their co-worker's second cousin is doing some sort of walk/race/ride/painting farm animals pink to raise money for a charity, I donate.

I've been there.  We do the March of Dimes March for Babies every year.  We have been touched by the work of one organization and so we walk to support them and help prevent others from knowing the pain we have known.  I understand that, whether it's Prematurity, Diabetes, Cancer, or any other of the long list of illnesses, every one of these people who puts their time, effort money and heart into these fundraisers has been touched directly.  I am so very thankful there are people in the world willing to walk/ride/whatever else to help support these organizations--to help make life better for others.

When I think back to those who I've supported as they walked, biked, shaved their heads, ran, etc., I realize that I am fulfilling the commandment to give.  I also am so very thankful to realize that, even though the destruction and hatred in the world can be heartbreaking, I know so many wonderful people trying to make a difference in the world.  In supporting the causes they hold dear, they help support my faith in humanity.

Questions For the Universe

Why do autobiographies have an "About the Author" section?  Isn't that what the ENTIRE BOOK is supposed to be?