Decorating: You Can Go Your Own Way (Wordless Wednesday)

Click to enlarge.
Of course, in true Oy Vey That Boy fashion, he had to be in the picture, even if he was already in jammies.

The corner before (with the last owner's stuff)

I got hooked on Pinterest months before we moved.  So, I had more than enough time to collect decorating inspiration for the new place which existed only in our dreams.

I created an "Oy Vey That Boy" folder full of inspiration for my son's room.  After toying with super heros, monsters, dogs, and other animals, I found this inspiration.  That did it.  I LOVE that sentiment and I love the colors and shapes of maps.  I love the sentimentality of maps from our past just as much as I love the potential contained when we grip a map to a place we've never been.  I showed my son some of the map ideas I found and he loved them.  I knew I wanted to wallpaper one of his (dreary brown) walls with maps (I've actually wallpapered 3 walls).  I found a great collection of websites where I could request maps and I did.

During the actual move, whenever we stopped, I searched for maps.  If I found some freebies, I grabbed two or three.

When we arrived here at the new house, we found our map collection was woefully inadequate.  "What if we ask people to send us maps from where they live," my son asked.  And so we did.  Through Facebook, I asked friends to send maps from their home state, their current town, countries they visited, their favorite amusement park, etc.  Some did just that.

For those maps we didn't get, Tour Guide Google helped.  I found pdf files of maps from zoos that were near and dear to us.  I found links to tourism departments for states/countries where our friends and family live and requested those.  I was able to search through gorgeous vintage maps from places not so near, but very dear to us.

In this past month, my son has received more mail than he has in all his 5 and 1/2 years combined.  Friends and family addressed their maps to him.  I purposely requested maps in his name from the tourism departments.  He LOVED it.

Just last week, I found we had collected enough maps to begin the project.  Initially, I used wallpaper adhesive to attach the maps to the wall.  I started with some of the larger ones, and filled in with smaller ones.  I found many maps have smaller maps of various areas on the back of the large map.  So having two or three copies came in VERY handy.

I purposely tried to position important maps at what will be his eye level when in bed.  So there, you'll find a map of the state where he was born, a small map of the town where we last lived, a map of Israel, a map the kids used in a school project about our heritage (yes, it's the actual map from their display.  I found it during the move and took it apart) and a map of his favorite zoo.  Our change of address cards have a map background and one of those is up there too at eye level.

Great Grandpa's St. Louis map

He has the neatest collection of maps.  There are maps sent by friends from their home states.  There's a giant world map that used to hang in his grandmother's office.  There's an old St. Louis map that once belonged to his great grandfather.  There are gorgeous maps I found from the Graphics Fairy.  When I came across a map of the route of the British Royal Wedding, I had to grab that and put it up.  There are 21 year-old maps from DisneyLand (the last time I was there).  There are maps from all the places dh and I have lived.  I came across a few cool maps in magazines and saved them.  They're up there too.

Over the window sill

Oh yes, it's Hogwarts.

Royal Wedding procession map

Neat map I tore out of the last Woman's Day magazine.
You can tell I couldn't get it exactly right.  Note the great state of Tes. 

Before we moved, a friend gave us a whole host of toys for the ride (which helped save my sanity).  Among them was this puzzle along with that note attached.  I damn-near giggled with delight because I already knew I wanted to go with the map theme.  I purposely saved the note.  I figure we'll put this together, seal it, hang it up and keep the note with it on the wall.





The thrift store fairies worked their magic a few weeks ago.  I saw this super cool puzzle at the thrift store.  I adored the colors and the fact that, HELLLLLOOO, it's a MAP, but I worried it wouldn't all be there.  Opening it up revealed that it's still sealed in the bag.  This is actually a personalized puzzle someone purchased this past Xmas for a family member (the receipt was still in the box).  You can have a map made of any address.  Apparently, the recipient didn't like it, but I sure did.  By that point, though, I had a bunch of maps and figured I didn't need any more.  We left without buying it, but that entire weekend, I was mad at myself for doing that.  When we returned the following week, not only did I find it again, but it was half price, so I got this for a whopping 98 cents.  I will not ignore the thrift store fates when they damn-near toss this into my hands.  I bought it that time.

It's still a work in progress.  My mother recently grabbed a magnetic knife rack at Ikea which I'll put up in his room to hold his cars.  She also grabbed some spice racks that I'll paint and put up to hold his books (his baby sister will get some too).  His sister's old Finding Nemo desk will be covered in maps (just the Nemo portions.  I'm actually leaving the blue and orange because I think they'll work well with the map colors) and moved into his room.  You can see in that shot that he's still in a toddler bed.  We need to get him a new twin bed and pass that down to his baby sister.  I have an old scratched up dining room chair that I want to paint, recover and put in his room.  If you look through the Oy Vey That Boy folder, you'll see some of the other ideas I'm considering for his room.  Right now, one large wall is still brown.  I'm not going to cover that, but I'm strongly considering painting it turquoise.

Oh and did you notice the parachuting monkey between the windows?  That was $1.99 find at Michael's.  They have wall stickers on clearance and I had to grab that.  It was too stinking cute.  Nothing completes a travel-themed room like a parachuting monkey.  ;-)

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Map to Your Heart Challenge in the Moxie Fab World

Wordless Wednesday

Metamorphosis Monday

Clear your calendar

We've been unpacking in fits and spurts.  Initially, we went at it at full force, barreling through boxes at break-necking speeds*.  Lately, though, we'll empty a box here or we'll open two or three in an attempt to find something specific.

The other night, I was on a  quest for the husband's military medical records (which were in his black "Police" bag in the sitting room of the old house.  Why the movers didn't actually put all the things from the sitting room in boxes labeled, "Sitting Room," is beyond me.  Instead, they did that with a few boxes and then shoved things from other rooms in other boxes so that we have to play detective to find damn-near anything).  I never did find those records, but I did find an unopened roll of wall paper, swords (my husband collects them), a library book FROM OKLAHOMA (thanks, kids), tons and tons and tons of hangers, four phone books (For a state 2000 miles away.  Thanks, movers), and my calendar.

I always have a Jewish calendar (the Jewish calendar isn't anchored to the secular one, so I need it to know when holidays fall on the secular one).  This year, however, my mother bought went a wee bit crazy and bought us all (secular) calendars for Chanukah.  So now I have one of those fancy "Busy mom" type calendars.  What it lacks in Hebrew, it makes up for in a nifty pen attached to the top of the calendar (which the movers appear to have lost).

According to the calendar, our life ceased to exist after May 16th, moving day.  We've only been here a few weeks, but it's already a whole other world.  I stared at that calendar as though it was frozen in another time.  There are doctor appointments on there from doctors we will never see again.  The last Girl Scout meeting is there.  Oh how I miss those girls and their moms!  The very last birthday we ever celebrated in that house is there.  We moved into that house just 2 weeks before our girls were born.  So it was fitting that we left just after their birthday.  There was that last minute trip with friends to a local attraction that I always wanted to visit, but never did until that day (and had a blast).  I completely forgot that our family was reunited on Friday the 13th.  See the early family services labeled there that day?  Well, we came home from services and found my husband home after 8 months apart during this move.  After years of deployments and training and combat zones and civilian job training, it's over.  On that day, we celebrated shabbat with friends and we got our family back.

I looked at the calendar for a while.  It was late.  The kids were in bed.  The husband was at work.  The house was quiet.  I stared at May and remembered.  Then, with some reluctance, I flipped the page to June, completely blank and hung it up.   Moving right along.




*Either an exaggeration or wishful thinking.  Take your pick.

                          ###

                             

"Strangers are exciting. Their mystery never ends, but there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."-Ani DiFranco

Our move has gone very well.  We made the drive quicker than expected without any loss of life or limb (or sanity).  We moved into the house without a hitch.  The movers delivered all our items in one piece (for the most part).  Our neighbors are very nice.  The kids made instant friends.  I'm finding my way around the area a bit.  I like the house.  Painting is taking longer than I'd like, but we're getting there.

My only problem has been friends.  We've met some wonderful people out here including a few I'm sure will become great friends in time.  Still, everyone is busy with their own lives, so I haven't been able to spend real time with any of them.

Everything around here reminds me of the friends I left behind.  I unpack boxes given to me by friends.  I unpack the dragonfly yard ornament one friend gave me before she moved.  My husband sees a huge box from the attic and asks, "How the hell did you get that down," to which I reply, "I didn't.  I, however, have awesome friends who did."  I miss them.  I get the urge to call someone up to go thrift store shopping or to ask who wants to go to the zoo with us.  Then I remember that, #1.  I don't know where the thrift stores are, #2.  I have no one to go with me, #3.  We don't have a zoo here.  #4. The friends who would have gone with me live in another state.

Pardon me while I pout.  (foot stomp, hands on hips) I miss my friends.

One is the loneliest number

One day left in our house, that's all we had.  Tomorrow, we close and leave for Washington.  

This weekend, I got my husband back just in time to leave my friends.  

We've had to say our sad goodbyes to the places and people we love.  

Today, as we drove, I found myself taking a walk down memory lane.  I remembered specific events we celebrated at restaurants, parks and houses that we passed.  

I'm ready to turn this house over to a new young couple.  I'm ready to leave the state and head West.  I will never, however, be ready to leave the people here I love.  I've been absolutely amazed at how much our friends have helped and cared for us during the house selling and moving.  I HATE that I have to leave them.  

One of my daughters' best friends wrote them a letter about how much she would miss them.  This made me teary and I think sums it up nicely.

Lehit ra'ot. Lehit ra'ot. Shalom, chaverim! Shalom!

Shalom chaverim, shalom chaverim,

Shalom, shalom.

Lehitraot lehitraot

shalom, shalom.

This is the park where my youngest celebrated her first birthday.  

This is the park where my twins celebrated their 8th birthday.

This is the park where the local branch of the March of Dimes holds their March for Babies every year. This year's walk here is 2 days after we close on our new house.  It will be the first walk we've missed since 2004.  

This is the park where my kids have met friends for play dates.  

This is the park with my kids' favorite splash pad.  

That tire swing to the right is where I got my favorite shot of my son and husband playing.  

Towards the center, is the covered slide my youngest loved riding down with her 6-year-old friend (who insists on being at the baby's side any time she's around).  

That ditch right there in front is the same one that damn-near made my heart stop every time the kids got too close.

That bench in the center is where I sat and chatted with friends while our kids played.  

To the right, not shown in the photo, is the pavilion where my daughters' had their end of the school year Girl Scout party today.  

In a quiet moment, I looked over at the empty tire swing.  I remembered my son playing there with his father.  I remembered my brother pushing my kids, his son and some friends on there at the baby's first birthday party.  I remembered the girls giggling with one of their best friends as another friend spun them quickly.  

This place is haunted with happy memories of friends.  Everywhere we turn, we're reminded of playing, talking, sliding, hiding and laughing with some of our favorite people. 

I didn't want to leave the park.  As the rain started, everyone else filed out.  I sent the kids to say, "Good bye," to their friends, some for the last time.  I stayed behind and looked around.  The immensity of leaving these memories, these places, these people behind hit me hard.  

Good bye, my friends.  Good Bye, my friends.

Goodbye/Peace.  Good bye/Peace.

Until we meet again.  Until we meet again.

Good bye, Peace.  

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Wordless Wednesday

Make New Friends and Keep the OldOne Is Silver And the Other Gold

This post has been brewing in my mind for months.  I can never get it to stay on one straight trajectory, though.  I wanted to tackle the topic in this post, but then it took a walk through a completely different part of my brain.

So let's try this again.

I'll write a separate post about my kids and their friends.  That has been the biggest focus of our lives (and my mind) lately.  I'm doing my best to put all my stuff on hold so that my kids (most especially my oldest who are very much smack dab in the middle of the "Best friends" mindset) can spend as much time as possible with their very best friends.  That, however, is another post for another day.

Instead, I'll focus on my reaction and my friends.

Today, I drove through a part of town where some friends used to live when our kids were small.  I passed the restaurants were one friend and I often lined up our girls side-by-side in high chairs.  Just a few blocks from there, I passed the street where another friend once lived and remembered her son's second birthday, where my oldests (just shy of 2 at the time) were introduced to karaoke.  All those friends, while still in state, have long since moved away from that neighborhood.

I won't have those moments when I move.  I won't have those friends who sat alongside me on the park bench nursing our oldest babies.  There won't be anyone who knew my kids when they were smaller.  There will be no one who has any shared experiences with me at all.

Here, I venture out to Target and run into a friend I haven't seen in years, one who attended the same "Baby Basics" class with me when we were pregnant the first time.  When my big two ask who she is, I say, "You and her son played in playgroup together when you were babies."  I won't be able to say that about anyone in Washington.

My kids (and I) want to see the newly returned elephants at the zoo.  Here, I can text a friend and make plans for the next day.  While we're there (at the zoo my children know well enough to give tours because we've come frequently ever since they were 6 months old) thoroughly enjoying ourselves, I run into a number of people I know and stop to chat.  My kids say, "Hi," to a friend from Hebrew school who passes by.  When my son was a baby, I declared, "I never go to the zoo without running into someone I know."  That has held true for years.  That, however, won't be the case when we move.

A mom I really like, but don't spend nearly enough time with, walks along side me while our girls walk ahead discussing their favorite books and our boys run around and around AND AROUND us.  She tells me, "We're going to miss you."  She has no idea how mutual that feeling is.

I look at my friends' kids that I've know since they were newborns and I realize they'll be frozen in my mind at their current 4/6/8/10 years old.  I've been there for these kids' first steps, first karate classes, dance shows, first time they wrote their names, etc., but that ends now.  When they hit their next milestones, I won't be there in the audience to see it.  

A friend posts on Facebook, "I got a girl's number at beer fest. Sweet! (making friends post college is hard!)"  I nod quietly to myself and sigh thinking that it's not fair that I'm leaving these awesome friends behind for the huge abyss that is the friendless unknown.

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Moving Right Along

We've spent years trying to move away.  We knew when our son was still an infant that we wanted to leave once my husband was no longer active duty.  The Air Force sent us here in the days after September 11th.  Coming from the North East, the South has been a bit of a culture shock in oh so many ways for these liberal Jews.  Oddly, we found we liked it here.  While the political climate and religious climate were very different from what we knew, the people were nice and the lifestyle was far more laid back than what we were used to.  We grew to love this place.  

When I spent a month back "home" during my husband's first deployment when the twins were toddlers, I realized it was no longer the place I needed to be.  Nearly the entire time I was there, I longed to come back.  I longed for my friends here, for my volunteer activities, for our day-to-day activities, for our zoo, our parks, our home.  

In the past few years, things here have changed.  His venture into the civilian life left my husband horribly frustrated with the jobs he held.  The political climate is far more volatile than ever.  More and more strip malls pop up left and right.  As a result, traffic is worse than ever.  Overall, people still smile and hold doors, but the racism and sexism and intolerance in general are no longer under the surface.  More people than ever here wear their hatred as a badge of honor.  

All that made us decide we needed to leave.  And so, we are.  Our house has sold.  A new one is purchased.  Closing dates are set.  Boxes are packed.  

We should be insanely excited to be moving on; everything we've worked for, hoped for, longed for, is happening.  After eight months apart, our family will be together again; this time, for good.  We'll have a home that fits us all.  My husband now works a job he actually likes.  

We absolutely are looking forward to all that.  Yet, at the same time, I listen as my daughters lament the fact that they can't pick a best friend among their top circle of friends because they're all "so cool," and I wince to think of my girls leaving them all behind.  My friends leave a party and say, "In case I don't see you before then, I hope you have an easy move."  On the swings, the six-year-old little girl who adores my toddler pushes her and I wonder,"How old will the baby be when they see each other again?"  My son tells me his plans for a friend's birthday gift only to realize that's a party we won't be here to attend.  

All this is another post for another day, but it's just hitting me now.  It's been creeping in in bits and pieces, but, with moving day approaching, I'm more and more aware of it.  As a child, I lived in the same house where four generations of my family lived.  I never moved away until I went to college and then got married.  Sure we've moved around a bit since then, but not with children.  We moved into this house a week before our twins were born and we've been here ever since.  This is a whole new experience for all of us.  At this point, it's one of those experiences I prefer, overall, not to think too deeply about (until, of course, I sit down and blog about it).  As the date moves closer, though, I find I don't have the luxury of ignorance (or at least avoidance).  

Wordless Day Other Than Wednesday

I have the most awesome friends who have the most amazing talents. These are owl cupcakes made by a friend for my daughter's second birthday. Aren't they fantastic? They were delicious too. My friends rock!

Click to see the photo larger because these are even MORE adorable in larger format.

If It Looks Like A Horse, Walks Like A Horse and Sounds Like A Horse, It's Probably Not A Zebra

A very dear and wise friend gave me the above advice (the zebra bit, not the blunt card) when I was still in training for some health care work I did. The gist of it is to always look for the simplest explanation first because there's a good chance that really was the answer. We saw a variety of problems including some pretty severe and complicated ones, but we needed to remember that those were rare.  For the vast majority of people we worked with, the solutions were simple and basic. We needed to be aware that the troubling situations existed and required extra care, but we also needed to remember that most people would not have those complex difficulties.  If it seems simple, it probably is.  Treat it as such without jumping to uncalled for conclusions.

I was reminded of that advice this week.

Why would a 5-year-old child cut his things with scissors?

Some suggestions included that he was one step away from self mutilation, that he was very angry and unable to express it, he was deeply troubled, he was feeling abandoned and (as would obviously be the case with any of these) that he needed professional help.


However, all of those suggestions were way off base.  The child's true motivation is actually a horse, not a zebra.

Here's a simple little story to explain.

This is the comforter that S. slit.

Here is the bed all cozy and warm covered by the comforter that S. slit.

Here is the window alongside the bed all cozy and warm covered by the comforter that S. slit.

There hang the curtains in the window alongside the bed all cozy and warm covered by the comforter that S. slit.

Here is a curtain rod threaded through HOLES THE BOY'S MOTHER CUT to hang the curtains in the window alongside the bed all cozy and warm covered by the comforter that S. slit.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, when I sat my son down to have a heart-to-heart talk as to what his possible motivations could be, the conversation went very much like this:

Me:  What were you feeling when you cut your comforter?

Him:  I wasn't feeling anything.

Me:  What were you thinking when you did it?

Him:  I wasn't thinking anything.

Me:  Were you angry or frustrated when you cut it?

Him:  No.

Me:  Were you feeling sad?

Him:  No. (pause) Well, I guess a little sad.

Me:  What made you sad?

Him:  Because it looked bad and it wouldn't even hang up.

At this point, I was completely and utterly baffled.

Him: (pointing to his curtains)  You cut holes in those and got them to hang up, but it didn't work for me.

(pause here for mom's "Eureka" moment)

Me: So why did you hide it from me?

Him:  I didn't hide it from YOU.  I hid it from ME because it doesn't look cool.  It just looks broken.  I don't wanna see that.

Valentine's Day Revisited & Redefined

valentines day
Originally uploaded by rebecca anne

I hated Valentine's Day. As a teenager, I boycotted it. I donned all black and bitched about stupid made-up Halmark holidays.

To this day, my husband and I don't celebrate it. When it comes to companies encouraging people to spend insane amounts of money to honor a painful pagan fertility festival, I still feel as snarky as I did when I was 16.

Once I had kids, though, I found myself longing for the Valentine's Days of my youth, the ones full of glitter-covered hand-made cards and pink cupcakes with red sprinkles.

This year, our homeschool group had a Valentine's Day party with a card exchange. The kids had a blast. I had a blast. It was so much fun and helped put me in another frame of mind.

While we don't celebrate it, I still found myself missing my husband today even more than usual. That longing made me feel the first itch of pitty for myself.  But how can you feel sorry for yourself when the little people in your life insist on addressing Valentine's Day cards to everyone they've ever met?  Watching a little friend tote your youngest around so sweetly through nearly the entire party tugs the corners of your mouth in an upward direction.   When your son demands to give his Hebrew teacher his very favorite brand new Toy Story Valentine pencil, you simply can't feel down.

I think I've found a way to reframe the day so that I can truly enjoy it.  Instead of the sappy jewel-incrusted anti-single-fest Valentine's Day has been forced into, I found myself enjoying time with friends and watching my children doing the same (only their interactions contained far more screeching and hanging upside down than mine).  It made me thankful for it all--my friends, my kids, my situation in life, my husband (even if he's not here), my marriage (which can survive these absences time and time again) and yes, pink cupcakes with edible heart decorations.

Thank You Friends! [EXPLORED]

Originally uploaded by FrozenBlizzard

It's my party and I'll completely ignore it if I want to.

or just bitch and moan. Whatever works.  The bitching moaning and crying never seems to, so I'm opting for just ignoring it this year (right after I finish dedicating a whole blog entry to it).

The husband was supposed to be only a few hours away for training starting just days before my birthday.  He would be there for a full month, so that also would have freed him up to come to our youngest's second birthday party as well.

Well, apparently, there's a change in plans. And so I sigh and moan and hope maybe there's more to this than meets the eye (no, my husband is not a transformer), but go on the assumption that there's not and my birthday is just going to suck.

I'm the type who always gets bent out of shape about birthdays.  This year, though, I don't have any plans and the more I think about it, the more I think I just don't want any.    Despite that photo of Mr. Grumpypants the pissed off feline up there, I'm really not depressed.  I just think it might be best to skip any celebrations.

So, I think I'm just going to pretend it doesn't exist.  I won't mark it on the calendar.  I took it off my Facebook profile.  I'll avoid my usual birthday count downs.  While I didn't plan on telling the kids, the oldest saw me type my birthdate to sign up for something the other day and she remembers it.  She keeps telling ME how many days until my birthday.  Gee, thanks a lot, kid.

I'm really not even feeling particularly upset.  I'm just exhausted and I really can't see how we could anything to celebrate, so I'll try a new approach. I don't want to get myself worked up with hopes for anything, so I'll just try this and see how it works.

The (far too many) steps to prepping a house for sale

Our house is back on the market.  After a period with no potential buyers, we took the house off the market in December.  We knew we wanted a new agent (ours was perfectly lovely and a very nice person, but she simply wasn't aggressive enough), her contract was up, plus house traffic apparently slows way down in December.  

It went back up with a new agent (someone my husband worked with when they were both in the military) earlier this week.  

For those who haven't sold a house or who haven't sold a house while children were living there, or who haven't sold a house with children who are homeschooled (and therefore, the parents get absolutely no kid-free time to prepare), or those who haven't sold a house with homeschooled children always underfoot and a spouse 2000 miles away; let me tell ya, it's rough. 

Among the list of things to do to prepare to sell a house:

1. Repack existing boxes (stashed in the biggest kids' room).
2. Open children's closets and see an endless array of clothing and accessories strewn about the floor.  
3. Scream.
4. Remove endless amounts of clothing from children who insisted on leaving it lying all over the freaking floor.
5. Remove all socks from those same children for the same reason (yes, my kids are currently sock-less in Winter.  They deal).
6. Remove all but four pairs of shoes from said children.
7. When said children leave one of those four pairs of shoes lying in the middle of their floor AGAIN, remove yet another pair of shoes. 
8. Look under the big girls' bed.  
9. Repeat step 3. 
10. Move the repacked boxes (which now also contain much of what was stashed under that bed) to storage (which, if you're lucky, a dear sweet friend will let you use her garage for and you will be forever indebted).
11. Call new agent and set a date to meet to sign paperwork and take pictures of the property.
12. When one of the children gets sick, cancel said appointment.
13. Repeat step 11.
14. Step 12 may also need to be repeated depending on the number of children and the season.
15. Pack more boxes.  
16. When you think you're done, look around again and revisit step 15.
17. Repeat step 15 more times than you think humanly possible.
18. Just as that dear sweet wonderful friend is about to show up to help you move more boxes, find even MORE  things to throw in boxes.  These things will most likely be stored WAY up high.  You only truly understand the frustration of this step if you are roughly the size of the Keebler Elf.
19. Repeat step 15.   
20. Profusely thank said friend.  It's only proper if you offer to bow down in homage.  
21. Open cabinets and sort through the things the kids have hidden there and forgotten all about.
22. Clean up anything fragile that the kids stashed precariously in the cabinet so that it fell and broke when you tried to rearrange said cabinet.
23. Replace the caulking on the bathtub.
24. Curse.
25. In an attempt to clear out the coat closet, sort through the mess of coats the kids have tossed on the floor (despite the many empty hangers hanging within their reach).
26. Find a can of interior paint knocked on its side when those children threw those coats.
27. When you struggle to put the can upright, discover a 1 foot wide and about 1/2 an inch mostly hardened pool of WHITE interior paint on your dark hardwood floor.
28. Repeat steps 3 and 24.
29. Text/call the spouse with threats to sell the children on Ebay.
30. Scrape up the paint as best you can.   Beware, this is very messy.  Some will be left behind.
31. Cry. 
32. Vacuum.
33. Spend an entire week clearing out the laundry room that no one has sorted through in nine years.
34. Shout with glee when you find the alcohol you sealed up in a box and stashed back there for Pesach (Passover).
35. You just found tequila amid the hell that is house prep.  Do I REALLY need to tell you what to do next?
36. Now that you have more space in the laundry room, use it to stash the kitchen appliances before pictures are taken (You can wait until you sober up from Step 35 or you can do it while buzzed.  It's entirely up to you).
37. Hide vacuum in the laundry room.
38. Clean kitchen counters.  
39. Clean stove.  
40. Drag vacuum back out and repeat step 32 in the kitchen where all the crumbs have now collected from the counter and stove top cleanings.
41. Move any furniture around to desired placement.
42. At least one piece of furniture will break upon step 41.  When that happens, repeat any combination of steps 3, 24 and/or 31.  
43. a. Mop kitchen floor or  b. have child mop kitchen floor.  If b., repeat 43 yourself after.
44. Clear off the weeks of paperwork that have gathered on the dining room table (and by, "Clear off," I mean stash them on a chair where no one can see).  
45. Have child put table cloth on.
46. In an attempt to adjust said table cloth and find the child simply threw it on over a mountain of crumbs.  
47. Repeat step 24.
48. Remove said table cloth.
49. Hand child a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
50. Repeat step 45.
51. Find the baby destroying something you had already prepared.
52. See steps 3, 24, 31 and perhaps 32 if necessary.
53. Veg out on Facebook for a while.
54. COFFEE!  
55. Repeat any combination of these steps.
56. Toss everything left in a box and hide it under the desk.  
57. Take a deep breath.  You're done 15 minutes before said agent is set to arrive. 

While completing this list, you should also stop often to text the spouse to ask, "WTF do you want me to do with this ('This' should typically refer to CD's, games, video game-themed magazines from the late 90s, boxes and/or electrical cords--none of which have been used in years)?"  You should also include numerous occasions of preparing food.

And yes, this list is based on actual events.  Any resemblance to people or situations is purely purposeful.

Thank You

thank you

Originally uploaded by hellojenuine.

I've had odd experiences lately. Other people have asked me for help and I've been grateful to be able to do that.

It started during a week when I was feeling particularly low. I was acutely aware of how much I missed my husband. The kids were bickering. I was frustrated.

Out of the blue, a friend called and asked me to babysit. Now, I usually greatly dislike babysitting. Yes, I love my own children and I like spending time with them, but when you add another kid (or two or three) to the mix, it throws me off. Being a parent can be rough and I have enough of it with my own kids thankyouverymuch. As I like to say, "If I didn't get to enjoy the conception, I don't want to deal with the discipline."

In this case, though, it was only one child and one smallish child who fits right in with the flow at our house. So it wasn't a problem. It wasn't any big sacrifice for me at all, but for the parents, it was a huge help.

I was thanked profusely, but I really wanted to thank THEM. They helped pull me out of my sadness. They reminded me that I had the potential to help. There's a true power in that. When you know someone can truly use your help, you have a purpose. You're no longer a tiny insignificant speck in that great wide world.

"When somebody needs you, well there's no drug like that."

"I need you. I don't know why, but every now and then in my life, for no reason at all, I need you."-Sarah "Labyrinth"

Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  The husband's brief visit ended (his visit explains why I vanished from the Blogosphere last week).  We had to drop him off at the airport at O'Dark Thirty in the morning.

The day was then just one miserable experience after another.

Among those miserable experiences was the vehicle deciding that running was optional and it wasn't an option the van actually wanted.  Of course, the kids had Hebrew school which is nowhere near our house and therefore requires a working vehicle.

Luckily, a friend lives in my area AND is a Hebrew school teacher.  So she (G-d bless her) was able to bring the kids there and back (this bears repeating, caps, & excessive punctuation G-D BLESS HER!!!).

Later, that same friend complained that her day wasn't productive.  This was a shock to me because she really saved us.  Plus, in my awful day, she was the one bright spot.  I think contributing to the education of the children (by actually getting my kids' butts there and teaching other people's kids) AND restoring faith in humanity are both very productive.

With the husband still out of state and the vehicle still refusing to work, I thought today would be another miserable day like yesterday.   Then, I got a last minute call to babysit.  There was a death and a funeral and a 2-year-old whose mother needed to attend to the first two.  The death and funeral are beyond me, but the two-year-old needing watching, that one I've got covered.

So she came over and joined the goat rodeo for the day.  Everyone had a blast.  We built with blocks.  We read books.  We played dress up (at one point, I was wearing an Xmas tree skirt as a shawl,  a shower cap and sunglasses shaped like a bat), we read more books, we had snacks.  Her mom was very thankful.  It really wasn't a big deal for me, but it helped her out quite a bit.

Amazingly, I found all this left me with no time to wallow in another terrible day.  Being needed, being able to help and knowing that our help was very much appreciated helped completely turn my mood around.

Thankful for...

I didn't hop on the Thankful bandwagon this season.  I haven't posted a thing a day for which I'm thankful, but I do like to collect a list of the things for which I'm thankful.  So I'll do that now.

I'm thankful for

• creativity
• optimism
• understanding
• love
• compassion
• a loving hard-working husband who sees me as an equal partner
• parents
• my kids
• books
• literacy
• Judaism
• the funny little things kids say
• good music
• beauty
• working vehicles
• heat
• generosity
• health
• our home (even if I do wish it was no longer ours)
• people in our area looking to buy a home (preferably ours)
• old friends
• inside jokes
• new friends
• insight
• the interwebz
• the ability (and desire) to strive for more
• those who make a difference
• pets
• family history
• glimpses of the past
• photographs
• family resemblance
• sweetness
• siblings
• family
• sushi
• pecan pie
• COFFEE
• rum
• coke
• good advice
• Feminism
• spell check
• funny and addictive websites
• safety
• memories
• poetry
• contentment

That's the list for now.  I'm sure I'll think of more later, but thus far, that's what I've got for ya.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and has much for which to be thankful.

Wordless Wednesday: It's a zoo out there

This week's episode of Wordless Wednesday was brought to you by warm weather, the local zoo and cute kids.

Today was probably the last nice day of the season.  It was 80 degrees and relatively sunny.  However, a cold front is on its way.  So we celebrated the last nice day at the zoo with friends.

Thankful: Parents' Night Out

All this month, people are posting something each day that they're thankful for.  Today, I feel compelled to follow suit.

On November 20, I am thankful for Parents' Night Out.  Our synagogue youth group hosts a few throughout the year.  Tonight was one such night.  The big three got to play with friends, make crafts, watch a movie and eat snacks.  I got to chat with a friend and eat yummy pizza (which is usually too expensive to share with little people).  I had a great time.  We spent all 3 hours chatting and eating and chatting some more.

We've been ready to move for so long, but it's things like this which give me pause.  I LOVE our congregation.  I love that we have such great friends there and that there's such a fantastic youth program.   I love how at home we feel there.  I love my friends too.  I love that when I have a night out, I can find friends to sit and chat with for three hours.

Day 3: You've Gotta Have Friends (and a camera)

On the 3rd day of randomness, your blogger gave to thee, photographs of people you probably don't even know.

Perfect timing since it's Wordless Wednesday.  I can get the Wednesday part down.  The wordless, not so much.

Girls' Night Out in July

Dinner at shul a week or two ago.  

Don't you love the blur of kids in that last one?  Maybe you like the suggestive balloon animal with which we're posing.  Perhaps all those pieces of cake are making you drool.  Funny enough, in the top picture, we also had cake and took pictures of said chocolate cake.  I'm not friends with the cake nor am I in those pictures, though, so I'm not posting those.  :-)

And in honor of those awesome friends, some of my favorite friendship quotations.

"How I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year, running over the same old ground and how we found same old fears. Wish you were here."--Pink Floyd (Wish You Were Here)


"Strangers are exciting, their mystery never ends, but there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."--Ani DiFranco


"There are so many ways to be connected to people. There's some people that you feel this unspoken connection to, even though there's no word for it. And the people you've known forever that you know in ways other people can't, because they've seen you change…they've let you change."--Angela Chase from My So Called Life


"Love is blind, but friendship is clairvoyant."--unknown


"There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them."--J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone)

Pictures, random facts and bloggy goodness, oh my!

I'm cheating with the photo. I don't have any recent photographs of me, but there's a picture my oldest drew of me for her "Pin the cofie in maman's hand" game.

And now, for 15 random facts about me:

1.  In real life, I'm not missing a finger on my left hand (contrary to what the picture might suggest).
2. I'm the youngest of 6, by a long shot.  My siblings range from 10 years older than me to 25 years older.
3. I always wanted 4 kids.
4. I met my husband at my first job: working at a video store in New Jersey.
5. We've been together for 13 years and married for 11.
6. My first name is in memory of my paternal grandmother.
7. All of our daughters' names honor her in some way.
8. My Hebrew name is in memory of my aunt who we lost to ovarian cancer.
9. I should have been a detective.  I can find damn-near anything online.
10. I curse more than I should,
11. but never around my mother.  If I do accidentally slip up and utter something mild (because I would never say any of the big ones in her presence), I immediately apologize.
12. I sleep with a stuffed lion named Mustard Seed that my youngest brother (who is 10 years older) gave me when I was a kid.
13. I'm listening to Liz Phair's newest album right now (yeah, I'm hurting for something--ANYTHING to add).
14.  Two friends have recently told me that I come across as "the confident one."  This was news to me.
15.  I went to Catholic school.  Yeah, I'm Jewish.  It's a long story.

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."