to save or to toss...
On two separate occasions today, I was privy to discussions on saving the artwork/projects of ones children. What do we save? do we save everything? does it start with the belly button stump and continue through every handprint, birthday project, mothers day collage, holiday commemoration and so on and so on? Are some of us collectors of everything tangible and others have the ability to retain the memory of all things precious and therefore can throw everything out? Yes. That is the answer. Some of us hoard and some of us dispose. Some of us will make it easy on our children when we die to sell the house and some of us will make it very, very, very difficult.
I loved my grandparents very much. My grandfather died in 1980 and my grandmother died in 1983. But, if I ever I find that I am missing them and need to really feel their presence, all I have to do is go to my parents sub-basement. It is there where I will find all of their boxes-from their apartment, from the apartment they lived in before that apartment...up until a few years ago, their mattress' were still in the sub-basement-I think you get the point. It seems someone, and I won't mention who, has some trouble letting go. And I guess it is ok because it doesn't interfere with the rest of the house, but everytime I enter the sub-basement, all I can think is "how I am going to clean this place up without her (again, not mentioning any names)knowing about it??" So there is one extreme.
The other extreme would be Ari's childhood home (which is no longer his home as it has been sold, knocked down and rebuilt...but not the point of this particular story.) Ari's mom(not mentioning any names) is not a collector..in fact, every time she would come to my house, she would leave me with things she thought i would "enjoy".....thank you notes from ari's bar mitzva, books from ari's ASHAR days, an assortment of knick-knacks that I never really knew what they were....it was all very sneaky, but extremely effective because when they relocated and moved out of the house, there wasn't that much left to pack up...
One of my kids asked me why purim is so close to pesach when you are supposed to be getting rid of food instead of collecting it-good question was what I answered him. I didn't really know the answer-what is the happy medium between being too sentimental and not sentimental enough (I am totally not saying you should be sentimental about all of the snickers you get-those you can send off to people at work, well if you work, if you don't work, you send them off with the person who works to give to the people at their work....yes, I know I should get a job...but, again, not the point of the story..)
The happy medium-I don't know what that is. I am trying to accomplish it by only holding on to mothers day projects-because everyone loves me on mother's day and I need all of the positive feedback I can get...though, in one of Jack's projects, he took the R in mother and wrote that I was like a rabbit..never quite got that one....but, not the point. There is no clear cut answer to this one, hold on to the things that make your heart warm and fuzzy and throw out the stuff that no one will notice...how is that?
another purim is over....my last purim in my 30's...oh boy..8 months from tomorrow....
Happy Sunday and have a great week
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
husband vs wife
I am about to write a blog about a very sensitive topic. If none of you can relate to this one, I am in really big trouble......
When my babies were little, Ari and I used to be in competition. Now, the competition wasn't who could play with the baby more, who made the baby smile more, or who felt they related to the baby more...no. That wasn't it at all. Who really cares about that nonsense anyway? The competition was "I was up with the baby for 4 hours, 26 minutes and 32 seconds...how long were you up with him for?" "I changed a diaper that was considered hazardous material-what was in your diaper?" "It only took me 3 minutes to stop the brat from crying-how long did it take you?" "I stopped the kid from sticking his finger in a socket-what have you done, exactly?"
We would then use these competition to try and figure out who "deserved" to sleep a whole night with ear plugs, or who "won" the right to not have to touch the baby at all. Great parenting-right? Please tell me you people know what I am talking about.
What made matters worse was that I nursed all three kids(sorry, it had to be said and it helps me with this blog...) 2 nursed for 9 months and the third nursed for 11 months...So I would use this whole "I nurse, therefore I am more tired than you" routine many, many times. (Nursing also got me in a room alone during family events for many undisturbed hours-I don't even know if the kid was actually eating, but who cares-no one bothers a nursing mom!!) And even though my math is terrible, to this day, I sometimes say to ari-I nursed those kids for 29 months-YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM!!!..can you believe it? and sometimes, that even works(or is Ari banging his head against a wall a sign that it doesn't really work, I am not sure...he does it so often lately, I am beginning to think he should see a doctor about it..)
This brings me to snow days. I was always the primary shoveler. Not because Ari is incapable, but because I enjoy it. It's good exercise(another excuse to eat more once I go back into the house) the air is always nice and fresh after a good snow storm-it's all good. Now, after I would shovel, I would still have to go back inside, cook for everyone, clean up after everyone and take care of the wet laundry. That being said, the past few snow storms, Ari has been the primary shoveler(round of applause...)and when he comes inside "oh, I am so sweaty" "Oh, I am so tired-what's for lunch..." are you kidding me? Seriously? How come all the times that I shoveled, no one made me lunch? I have shoveled 56 times, you have only shoveled 4 times...I am so winning this competition yet, it seems I haven't won anything at all. That doesn't seem very fair.
Today I told Ari I was going for a walk and that I would finish shoveling the path to our dead neighbors house when I got back(we split the shoveling with our dear, dear neighbors...shout out MW) So i get back after an hour, Ari is outside with the boys and I get a "nice of you to come back...I took care of the path while you were gone." So now I think that he thinks that he is winning!! NO, he is not....but truthfully, I feel so old, fat and tired...he can shovel for the next 30 years and I will not be keeping score (yes I will, don't tell him)
Happy Friday....stay warm and Happy Purim!
I am about to write a blog about a very sensitive topic. If none of you can relate to this one, I am in really big trouble......
When my babies were little, Ari and I used to be in competition. Now, the competition wasn't who could play with the baby more, who made the baby smile more, or who felt they related to the baby more...no. That wasn't it at all. Who really cares about that nonsense anyway? The competition was "I was up with the baby for 4 hours, 26 minutes and 32 seconds...how long were you up with him for?" "I changed a diaper that was considered hazardous material-what was in your diaper?" "It only took me 3 minutes to stop the brat from crying-how long did it take you?" "I stopped the kid from sticking his finger in a socket-what have you done, exactly?"
We would then use these competition to try and figure out who "deserved" to sleep a whole night with ear plugs, or who "won" the right to not have to touch the baby at all. Great parenting-right? Please tell me you people know what I am talking about.
What made matters worse was that I nursed all three kids(sorry, it had to be said and it helps me with this blog...) 2 nursed for 9 months and the third nursed for 11 months...So I would use this whole "I nurse, therefore I am more tired than you" routine many, many times. (Nursing also got me in a room alone during family events for many undisturbed hours-I don't even know if the kid was actually eating, but who cares-no one bothers a nursing mom!!) And even though my math is terrible, to this day, I sometimes say to ari-I nursed those kids for 29 months-YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM!!!..can you believe it? and sometimes, that even works(or is Ari banging his head against a wall a sign that it doesn't really work, I am not sure...he does it so often lately, I am beginning to think he should see a doctor about it..)
This brings me to snow days. I was always the primary shoveler. Not because Ari is incapable, but because I enjoy it. It's good exercise(another excuse to eat more once I go back into the house) the air is always nice and fresh after a good snow storm-it's all good. Now, after I would shovel, I would still have to go back inside, cook for everyone, clean up after everyone and take care of the wet laundry. That being said, the past few snow storms, Ari has been the primary shoveler(round of applause...)and when he comes inside "oh, I am so sweaty" "Oh, I am so tired-what's for lunch..." are you kidding me? Seriously? How come all the times that I shoveled, no one made me lunch? I have shoveled 56 times, you have only shoveled 4 times...I am so winning this competition yet, it seems I haven't won anything at all. That doesn't seem very fair.
Today I told Ari I was going for a walk and that I would finish shoveling the path to our dead neighbors house when I got back(we split the shoveling with our dear, dear neighbors...shout out MW) So i get back after an hour, Ari is outside with the boys and I get a "nice of you to come back...I took care of the path while you were gone." So now I think that he thinks that he is winning!! NO, he is not....but truthfully, I feel so old, fat and tired...he can shovel for the next 30 years and I will not be keeping score (yes I will, don't tell him)
Happy Friday....stay warm and Happy Purim!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, February 25,2010
driving..then and now...
I passed my driving test on the first time-probably because there was no math involved. My mom was a little disappointed because she thought that if i had failed, I would become a more careful driver(this coming from the woman who also brought a prayer book in the car with her the first and only time she took me driving)...so in order to get some self esteem back, I called my mom's good friend so SHE could tell me how excited she was for me.
The freedom that came with driving-I loved it. I didn't care where I was going, as long as I could be in the car. Weather didn't bother me, traffic didn't phase me, it was awesome. And then, it became even better....I got Goober. Goober was my grandfather's 1980, brown on brown, Cadillac Sedan Deville. He had sumptuous leather seats and an incredible sound system(am/fm stereo AND tape deck). Though not a minivan, it had seating capacity of 10 teenagers....the back seat was as big as a couch (i won't be discussing the backseat, get your minds out of the gutter!!)
After a few years with Goober (since I got him in 1988 and he was already 8 years old...)the glue that held the ceiling together started to atrophy and the fabric separated from the top of the inside of the car...I called this "theatre like" seating...but at some point, I had to staple gun it back up because I couldn't see out the back window....
Goober was broken into twice...on the upper west side after unsuccessful single-socializing simchat torah weekends...but he survived and just got stronger. No one messes with a brown cadillac...when I went to Wurzeiler in washington heights, all of my homies thought i was a drug dealer....what nice jewish girl drives a car like that? No one cut me off on the streets of new york city, because they all thought I was an armed livery cab driver...I felt very safe in Goober. or was it because I was still young and invincible? Driving fast in the snow never phased me and now, I am the annoying old lady on west englewood avenue that drives 5 miles an hour in the snow with her blinkers on (yeah, sorry, that's me....)
So Goober became a Ganchrow through marriage, (though, in my heart, he will always be a Latkin). My brother drove me to my wedding in Goober as we listened to New Order on the tape deck...Goober came with us to our first apartment in Englewood and survived the big snow storm of 1996...what a trouper. But then we got the news, upon going in for a check up, the mechanic told us that Goober's time had come. There was nothing they could do for him....you know it must have been really bad if the mechanic that had been saving Goober for years and totally ripping us off in the process, could not come up with a solution to Goober's ailments.
So, we called Lubavitch and asked them to take Goober to the world to come. And I am sure that when the Messiah comes back for our redemption,in a quick and speedy time, he will not be riding a stately, white horse, but, he will be driving my beloved Goober. I still have one of his hubcaps...lord rest his precious soul.
drive carefully out there...
Happy Thursday
I passed my driving test on the first time-probably because there was no math involved. My mom was a little disappointed because she thought that if i had failed, I would become a more careful driver(this coming from the woman who also brought a prayer book in the car with her the first and only time she took me driving)...so in order to get some self esteem back, I called my mom's good friend so SHE could tell me how excited she was for me.
The freedom that came with driving-I loved it. I didn't care where I was going, as long as I could be in the car. Weather didn't bother me, traffic didn't phase me, it was awesome. And then, it became even better....I got Goober. Goober was my grandfather's 1980, brown on brown, Cadillac Sedan Deville. He had sumptuous leather seats and an incredible sound system(am/fm stereo AND tape deck). Though not a minivan, it had seating capacity of 10 teenagers....the back seat was as big as a couch (i won't be discussing the backseat, get your minds out of the gutter!!)
After a few years with Goober (since I got him in 1988 and he was already 8 years old...)the glue that held the ceiling together started to atrophy and the fabric separated from the top of the inside of the car...I called this "theatre like" seating...but at some point, I had to staple gun it back up because I couldn't see out the back window....
Goober was broken into twice...on the upper west side after unsuccessful single-socializing simchat torah weekends...but he survived and just got stronger. No one messes with a brown cadillac...when I went to Wurzeiler in washington heights, all of my homies thought i was a drug dealer....what nice jewish girl drives a car like that? No one cut me off on the streets of new york city, because they all thought I was an armed livery cab driver...I felt very safe in Goober. or was it because I was still young and invincible? Driving fast in the snow never phased me and now, I am the annoying old lady on west englewood avenue that drives 5 miles an hour in the snow with her blinkers on (yeah, sorry, that's me....)
So Goober became a Ganchrow through marriage, (though, in my heart, he will always be a Latkin). My brother drove me to my wedding in Goober as we listened to New Order on the tape deck...Goober came with us to our first apartment in Englewood and survived the big snow storm of 1996...what a trouper. But then we got the news, upon going in for a check up, the mechanic told us that Goober's time had come. There was nothing they could do for him....you know it must have been really bad if the mechanic that had been saving Goober for years and totally ripping us off in the process, could not come up with a solution to Goober's ailments.
So, we called Lubavitch and asked them to take Goober to the world to come. And I am sure that when the Messiah comes back for our redemption,in a quick and speedy time, he will not be riding a stately, white horse, but, he will be driving my beloved Goober. I still have one of his hubcaps...lord rest his precious soul.
drive carefully out there...
Happy Thursday
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010..please don't snow,please don't sno...
purim...the other halloween
Ahh, the holiday of purim is rapidly approaching. Let's take a closer look at this holiday, shall we?...
do we really fast because Esther was going before the king to ask him to spare the lives of the jews? or, do we fast because the selection of candy that we receive is so extensive, enticing and caloric that we need to store up a whole day of calories so we can indulge?
are we really supposed to drink so much purim night so we can't tell the difference between the evil of haman and the goodness of mordechai(is that even true?) OR, are we supposed to drink a lot so we don't remember how much tuition, camp and mortgages are....hmmmm...or....because we just like to drink a lot and any excuse is a valid one(not all of us drink, just some..)
Do we give shaloch manot to people because we are trying to fulfill the mitzvah(good deed) that it says in the megillah or do we do it because if we don't, our kids tell us that we are lazy, that if we really loved them we would drive them around for three hours and if we don't do what they ask of us, we end up spending the whole afternoon being grumpy...(or do we do it because it gives us moms a chance to clean out our pantries for passover-so if any of you get boxes of noodles or cans of corn...now you know why!!)
Do we dress up on purim to emulate the characters in the megillah (wait, there were football players in the megillah? how did I miss that? Power rangers? Clowns? ) Or do we do it so party city can raise their prices on costumes that they didn't sell halloween time?? things that make you go hmmmmm...
I have often said that my community is really great when someone is dying, someone dies and on purim.. On purim, the streets are filled with minivans filled with happy children and smiling mothers(and fathers, on occasion, if they take the day off)..everyone is nice to eachother-giving eachother yummy purim treats, exchanging kind words...it is probably because of all the sugar intake, because most of these people are not friendly during the year(because they are hungry the rest of the time...not that there is anything wrong with that...)
So in conclusion, even though the holiday of purim has morphed into a halloween like celebration, albeit with the reading of the megillah, it proves that people are just friendlier when they eat candy. Which continues to prove my theory of "food is love." Don't knock until you have tried it...
Happy almost Purim and Happy Wednesday....
Ahh, the holiday of purim is rapidly approaching. Let's take a closer look at this holiday, shall we?...
do we really fast because Esther was going before the king to ask him to spare the lives of the jews? or, do we fast because the selection of candy that we receive is so extensive, enticing and caloric that we need to store up a whole day of calories so we can indulge?
are we really supposed to drink so much purim night so we can't tell the difference between the evil of haman and the goodness of mordechai(is that even true?) OR, are we supposed to drink a lot so we don't remember how much tuition, camp and mortgages are....hmmmm...or....because we just like to drink a lot and any excuse is a valid one(not all of us drink, just some..)
Do we give shaloch manot to people because we are trying to fulfill the mitzvah(good deed) that it says in the megillah or do we do it because if we don't, our kids tell us that we are lazy, that if we really loved them we would drive them around for three hours and if we don't do what they ask of us, we end up spending the whole afternoon being grumpy...(or do we do it because it gives us moms a chance to clean out our pantries for passover-so if any of you get boxes of noodles or cans of corn...now you know why!!)
Do we dress up on purim to emulate the characters in the megillah (wait, there were football players in the megillah? how did I miss that? Power rangers? Clowns? ) Or do we do it so party city can raise their prices on costumes that they didn't sell halloween time?? things that make you go hmmmmm...
I have often said that my community is really great when someone is dying, someone dies and on purim.. On purim, the streets are filled with minivans filled with happy children and smiling mothers(and fathers, on occasion, if they take the day off)..everyone is nice to eachother-giving eachother yummy purim treats, exchanging kind words...it is probably because of all the sugar intake, because most of these people are not friendly during the year(because they are hungry the rest of the time...not that there is anything wrong with that...)
So in conclusion, even though the holiday of purim has morphed into a halloween like celebration, albeit with the reading of the megillah, it proves that people are just friendlier when they eat candy. Which continues to prove my theory of "food is love." Don't knock until you have tried it...
Happy almost Purim and Happy Wednesday....
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 23,2010
ncsy regional 1984
NCSY was different back in the 80's...kids actually wanted to go to events-it was the only time we could see friends from other schools(now, I, personally, didn't have any other friends, but there were some kids who did...)So regional was this big weekend at some camp in the mountains-tagola or sternberg or some kind of yucky sleepaway camp with horrible bathrooms that make me shudder even all of these years later.
So it was at this particular regional weekend that I met a young man with a head full, and i mean FULL, of hair-wiry, curly hair and lots of it. I remember him not only because of his hair, but because he had an outstanding almost magnetic personality...there were always people (kids, we were just kids) around him and he seemed nice enough.
Fast forward a few weeks to my eighth grade trip to washington, sitting on the bus next to Michelle Rosner, who was being nice to me that particular week, and we were talking about which boys were going to camp hillel that summer. (my parents had finally said i was mature enough to go to sleepaway camp-note to all parents reading this, never, i mean NEVER send your 13 year old daughter to sleepaway camp, for the first time, for the second month-HUGE mistake...it took me going back as a counselor when I was older to finally get over the anxiety I had developed in that short, 1 month...man can girls be cruel....but that is for another blog)
Back to the conversation-now, keep in mind that I can't remember what happened to me yesterday, but, this conversation, I remember...she told me that Ari Ganchrow was going to be in camp and I said "oh, I remember him from regional....he's a nice guy(kid, still, a kid)..."
Fast forward to 1988, the tenplex on route 4...I am on a date with a guy my mom really liked, so, of course, I didn't like him...sitting next to me is Ari Ganchrow, out with some friends, and I think to myself "I am having such a terrible time, I would rather be here with Ari...."
Fast forward to summer of 1992, jerusalem pizza on cedar lane, Ari makes fun of me that I am out alone on a Saturday night....I won't tell you what I made fun of him about, but he knows!!!
Fast forward to pesach 1994, the pool at the Doral, Drorit Ratzker saying to Deva Schlass " we really need to find someone for Ari Dov...he is such a great guy" and me thinking, what is wrong with this Ari Dov that they need to find someone for him....little did I know....
And now, all of these years later, we are about to celebrate his big birthday together. Maybe I should have saved this blog for his exact birthday, or maybe I should have saved it for our anniversary...but I was in the mood to be almost sentimental...it does happen from time to time.
Happy almost birthday honey.....this is your present, me, almost being nice to you!
Happy Tuesday....
NCSY was different back in the 80's...kids actually wanted to go to events-it was the only time we could see friends from other schools(now, I, personally, didn't have any other friends, but there were some kids who did...)So regional was this big weekend at some camp in the mountains-tagola or sternberg or some kind of yucky sleepaway camp with horrible bathrooms that make me shudder even all of these years later.
So it was at this particular regional weekend that I met a young man with a head full, and i mean FULL, of hair-wiry, curly hair and lots of it. I remember him not only because of his hair, but because he had an outstanding almost magnetic personality...there were always people (kids, we were just kids) around him and he seemed nice enough.
Fast forward a few weeks to my eighth grade trip to washington, sitting on the bus next to Michelle Rosner, who was being nice to me that particular week, and we were talking about which boys were going to camp hillel that summer. (my parents had finally said i was mature enough to go to sleepaway camp-note to all parents reading this, never, i mean NEVER send your 13 year old daughter to sleepaway camp, for the first time, for the second month-HUGE mistake...it took me going back as a counselor when I was older to finally get over the anxiety I had developed in that short, 1 month...man can girls be cruel....but that is for another blog)
Back to the conversation-now, keep in mind that I can't remember what happened to me yesterday, but, this conversation, I remember...she told me that Ari Ganchrow was going to be in camp and I said "oh, I remember him from regional....he's a nice guy(kid, still, a kid)..."
Fast forward to 1988, the tenplex on route 4...I am on a date with a guy my mom really liked, so, of course, I didn't like him...sitting next to me is Ari Ganchrow, out with some friends, and I think to myself "I am having such a terrible time, I would rather be here with Ari...."
Fast forward to summer of 1992, jerusalem pizza on cedar lane, Ari makes fun of me that I am out alone on a Saturday night....I won't tell you what I made fun of him about, but he knows!!!
Fast forward to pesach 1994, the pool at the Doral, Drorit Ratzker saying to Deva Schlass " we really need to find someone for Ari Dov...he is such a great guy" and me thinking, what is wrong with this Ari Dov that they need to find someone for him....little did I know....
And now, all of these years later, we are about to celebrate his big birthday together. Maybe I should have saved this blog for his exact birthday, or maybe I should have saved it for our anniversary...but I was in the mood to be almost sentimental...it does happen from time to time.
Happy almost birthday honey.....this is your present, me, almost being nice to you!
Happy Tuesday....
Monday, February 22, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
you know you are getting old when.....
When I was younger I used to listen to my walkman all the time. A walkman, for my young readers, is the great-great grandfather of the ipod. The original walkmen consisted of a 10 pound tape recorder that came with headphones that you could plug in. (tape recorder, the great-grandfather of the cd player and the brother of the 8 track and the son of the record player....) However it is related to technology of now, that is what we listened to then....
I would shlep around my tapes..phil collins, sting, my boyfriend Rick, debbie gibson(the great grandmother of britney spears) and so on. The music was on loud and often. This was for two main reasons 1. I loved music(and still do) and 2.I couldn't hear my mom yelling at me if the music was on loud enough (oh that is why my kids all walk around with their ipods on, now I know..man I am old and clueless...)
When you are young and think that nothing can happen to you, leaving the music on that loud for that long doesn't seem to bother you and you think it will have no effect on you. But now, I find myself saying "what" alot. And I mean a lot...in fact, my boys will say something to me, I will look at them and before it comes out of my mouth, they will say "what" to me because they know I have no idea what they just said-BECAUSE I CAN'T HEAR THEM!!!! I can hear a little-but not as much as I should...should I get this tested or just go with it? In crowded rooms, if you come up to talk to me, chances are I will agree with whatever you are saying because, truthfully, I have no idea what you are saying and I don't want to be rude (yes, that is what I just said....unless I don't like you and then I will keep making you repeat whatever it is that you have said over and over and over again...)
When my grandparents used to come visit us from Brooklyn, my grandfather would sit on the couch, turn his hearing aid off, and just smile at everyone-not having a clue what was going on in the conversation. Perhaps this was done on purpose? Isn't everyone entitled to some peace and quiet? When Jack and I were in Florida, we went out to dinner with my in-laws and my father-in-law couldn't hear a thing we were saying, now, of course this has its good points (of which I will not go into) but, we had to feel sorry for the guy-and that is with a hearing aid....which basically means, there is no hope for me. I am doomed to let nature take its course...
So even though loud music is better, it is necessarily better for you, or for me, as the current case maybe...so next time you see me somewhere and you say something to me and I don't answer you, it's not because I am ignoring you, it's because I can't hear you...(that's my story and I am sticking with it)
Happy Monday....
When I was younger I used to listen to my walkman all the time. A walkman, for my young readers, is the great-great grandfather of the ipod. The original walkmen consisted of a 10 pound tape recorder that came with headphones that you could plug in. (tape recorder, the great-grandfather of the cd player and the brother of the 8 track and the son of the record player....) However it is related to technology of now, that is what we listened to then....
I would shlep around my tapes..phil collins, sting, my boyfriend Rick, debbie gibson(the great grandmother of britney spears) and so on. The music was on loud and often. This was for two main reasons 1. I loved music(and still do) and 2.I couldn't hear my mom yelling at me if the music was on loud enough (oh that is why my kids all walk around with their ipods on, now I know..man I am old and clueless...)
When you are young and think that nothing can happen to you, leaving the music on that loud for that long doesn't seem to bother you and you think it will have no effect on you. But now, I find myself saying "what" alot. And I mean a lot...in fact, my boys will say something to me, I will look at them and before it comes out of my mouth, they will say "what" to me because they know I have no idea what they just said-BECAUSE I CAN'T HEAR THEM!!!! I can hear a little-but not as much as I should...should I get this tested or just go with it? In crowded rooms, if you come up to talk to me, chances are I will agree with whatever you are saying because, truthfully, I have no idea what you are saying and I don't want to be rude (yes, that is what I just said....unless I don't like you and then I will keep making you repeat whatever it is that you have said over and over and over again...)
When my grandparents used to come visit us from Brooklyn, my grandfather would sit on the couch, turn his hearing aid off, and just smile at everyone-not having a clue what was going on in the conversation. Perhaps this was done on purpose? Isn't everyone entitled to some peace and quiet? When Jack and I were in Florida, we went out to dinner with my in-laws and my father-in-law couldn't hear a thing we were saying, now, of course this has its good points (of which I will not go into) but, we had to feel sorry for the guy-and that is with a hearing aid....which basically means, there is no hope for me. I am doomed to let nature take its course...
So even though loud music is better, it is necessarily better for you, or for me, as the current case maybe...so next time you see me somewhere and you say something to me and I don't answer you, it's not because I am ignoring you, it's because I can't hear you...(that's my story and I am sticking with it)
Happy Monday....
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sunday, February 21,2010
driving to long island
upon reading this title, one might think...will this be a very quick blog OR will it be a very lengthy, arduous, headache inducing blog....because when one drives to long island, there should be no assumptions about how long or short the trip will take.
now, I have nothing against the 5 towns. There are some very nice people who live there and there are some very nice places to eat. There are also some very nice clothing stores that cater to a very small and narrow client base (that blog will be called "the day I went shopping with my friend Tutu for a dress for Jack's bar mitzva..better known as "the day that tutu saw banji cry....") Nice place-good food-home of the first really kosher dunkin donuts-a national landmark, if you ask me-it's all good in the other-land-of-milk-and-honey...
But getting there...OMG....two bridges, 17 highways, 400 traffic lights-are ya kidding me? Aside from the fact that when you finally make it to rockaway turnpike those planes fly so low over your car that you think they are coming right at you-it's scary!!! The van wyck-come on people-sometimes, you can fly down that little road and other times, walking backwards over hot coals would take less time.
Today I was lucky-made it there in 37 minutes (but then it took me 20 minutes to find parking) and going home it took 56-not bad. But there has got to be a better way to see really skinny women who I went to college with!!!!!!
so, I guess this would be a quick-traffic free blog...
Happy Sunday....1 week until purim and I become married to a much, much older man....
upon reading this title, one might think...will this be a very quick blog OR will it be a very lengthy, arduous, headache inducing blog....because when one drives to long island, there should be no assumptions about how long or short the trip will take.
now, I have nothing against the 5 towns. There are some very nice people who live there and there are some very nice places to eat. There are also some very nice clothing stores that cater to a very small and narrow client base (that blog will be called "the day I went shopping with my friend Tutu for a dress for Jack's bar mitzva..better known as "the day that tutu saw banji cry....") Nice place-good food-home of the first really kosher dunkin donuts-a national landmark, if you ask me-it's all good in the other-land-of-milk-and-honey...
But getting there...OMG....two bridges, 17 highways, 400 traffic lights-are ya kidding me? Aside from the fact that when you finally make it to rockaway turnpike those planes fly so low over your car that you think they are coming right at you-it's scary!!! The van wyck-come on people-sometimes, you can fly down that little road and other times, walking backwards over hot coals would take less time.
Today I was lucky-made it there in 37 minutes (but then it took me 20 minutes to find parking) and going home it took 56-not bad. But there has got to be a better way to see really skinny women who I went to college with!!!!!!
so, I guess this would be a quick-traffic free blog...
Happy Sunday....1 week until purim and I become married to a much, much older man....
tuesday, march 23, 2010
bring back the lavendar gunny-sax dress
November 1982. My bat mitzva. All I wanted to wear was the lavendar gunny-sax dress that every other girl in my grade wore to her bat mitzva...but noooo, chubby Banji wasn't allowed to have that dress, BECAUSE everyone else had it(and possibly because of how I would look in it compared to everyone else who had it)....I had to be shlepped out to Lesters in Brooklyn and bought a dark purple drop waist velvet dress with a big off white sailor collar. Now, it was a beautiful dress and I did love it...but it wasn't the lavendar gunny sax.
Bat mitzvas Now....gunny sax would have no chance in 2010-not tight enough-what are some of these girls wearing? NOTE: only some girls, not all girls. The bat mitzvas I have been to lately, have had a bevvy of very nicely dressed girls-nothing too tight or too short (though the heels on some of those mothers, that is another story altogether-that was a shout-out SP-loved the shoes you wore when i saw you, hope your feet are ok)
So some of these girls wear these really tight and short dresses-seriously kids, you are 12, not 20...but what always makes me chuckle is when I see the "me" girl...the girl who is taller and bigger than the other girls, but is still wearing the same kind of dress because HER mother let her dress like her friends (sorry mom...but I guess you are right because the "me" girl always looks like an idiot...sometimes I am even tempted to go over to that girl and say..."honey, it'll be ok, the good news is that you will grow up and marry a really sweet bald guy who thinks you are beautiful at any weight...the bad news is that you will always be bigger than all of your friends so get used to it....) yet, the "me" girl always looks pretty confidant...(until you catch her eating a plate of cake in the bathroom....)
I really wanted to find the lavendar gunny-sax dress to wear to Jack's bar mitzva...fortunately, I didn't, because even though I am a "grown up" now, and can wear whatever I want, it would probably make me look more ridiculous now than it would have in 1982....but it would have been fun just to see the look on my mother's face....though, i have to admit, she was also right about not letting my sister and i wear clogs-when those came back in style (20 years after she wouldn't let me have them...) i ran out, bought a pair, and then when I wore them for the first time, fell and twisted my ankle...but I am only admitting she was right TWICE....not getting anymore after that....
(I also have to admit that i originally wrote this blog on 2/21 and thought i had lost it because my internet connection went out, but it resurfaced yesterday,and i thought you might get a kick out of it....if you didn't, i apologize...)
So the lessons learned-only listen to your mother occasionally, AND, when your husband tells you that he doesn't want a party for his 40th birthday, don't believe him-how was that for two random thoughts put together???
Happy Tuesday
November 1982. My bat mitzva. All I wanted to wear was the lavendar gunny-sax dress that every other girl in my grade wore to her bat mitzva...but noooo, chubby Banji wasn't allowed to have that dress, BECAUSE everyone else had it(and possibly because of how I would look in it compared to everyone else who had it)....I had to be shlepped out to Lesters in Brooklyn and bought a dark purple drop waist velvet dress with a big off white sailor collar. Now, it was a beautiful dress and I did love it...but it wasn't the lavendar gunny sax.
Bat mitzvas Now....gunny sax would have no chance in 2010-not tight enough-what are some of these girls wearing? NOTE: only some girls, not all girls. The bat mitzvas I have been to lately, have had a bevvy of very nicely dressed girls-nothing too tight or too short (though the heels on some of those mothers, that is another story altogether-that was a shout-out SP-loved the shoes you wore when i saw you, hope your feet are ok)
So some of these girls wear these really tight and short dresses-seriously kids, you are 12, not 20...but what always makes me chuckle is when I see the "me" girl...the girl who is taller and bigger than the other girls, but is still wearing the same kind of dress because HER mother let her dress like her friends (sorry mom...but I guess you are right because the "me" girl always looks like an idiot...sometimes I am even tempted to go over to that girl and say..."honey, it'll be ok, the good news is that you will grow up and marry a really sweet bald guy who thinks you are beautiful at any weight...the bad news is that you will always be bigger than all of your friends so get used to it....) yet, the "me" girl always looks pretty confidant...(until you catch her eating a plate of cake in the bathroom....)
I really wanted to find the lavendar gunny-sax dress to wear to Jack's bar mitzva...fortunately, I didn't, because even though I am a "grown up" now, and can wear whatever I want, it would probably make me look more ridiculous now than it would have in 1982....but it would have been fun just to see the look on my mother's face....though, i have to admit, she was also right about not letting my sister and i wear clogs-when those came back in style (20 years after she wouldn't let me have them...) i ran out, bought a pair, and then when I wore them for the first time, fell and twisted my ankle...but I am only admitting she was right TWICE....not getting anymore after that....
(I also have to admit that i originally wrote this blog on 2/21 and thought i had lost it because my internet connection went out, but it resurfaced yesterday,and i thought you might get a kick out of it....if you didn't, i apologize...)
So the lessons learned-only listen to your mother occasionally, AND, when your husband tells you that he doesn't want a party for his 40th birthday, don't believe him-how was that for two random thoughts put together???
Happy Tuesday
Friday, February 19, 2010
friday, february 19, 2010 happy birthday lisa
real time in the Ganchrow house
It is friday afternoon and my three boys are watching a replay of the Tiger Woods bullcrap session....and they are fighting about it...lets take a listen....
"this was on before"
"who cares"
"what do you want to watch"
"i dont care,anything but this"
"why can't you just tell me what you want to watch"
"why do you have to be so annoying"
"I am not being annoying"
"just put on espn"
"who cares, nothing is on"
"But I don't want to watch that"
"get off of me"
"no, you get off of me"
"you are such an idiot"
"no you are"
"ouch..get off of me..."
"your headphones are too loud"
"what"
"make your ipod lower"
"what"
"can you take your headphones off"
"what?"
"ouch...get off of me"
ARGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is why watching the show The Middle makes me feel that this is perfectly normal and acceptable behavior...if they can make a tv show about three kids who have to watch the same show on three different tv's because they can't agree on the volume, then my kids can't be the only ones who act like this. I guess the only difference is my kids aren't getting paid a lot of money to bicker with eachother(they actually aren't getting paid anything)-but wouldn't that be great? It would make it all worthwhile for them to try and tear limbs off of eachother if they were getting paid...
The week winds down, the sabbath is upon us...soon a calming force will take over the house (especially when they all go with their father to synagogue and I can have a drink...) but before this house reaches that calm, in just a few moments I will ask them all to take showers and get ready and then they will stop screaming at eachother and start screaming at me...do they know that that is the real plan-getting them to form an alliance against the mean cruel mom who doesn't want them to smell over the next 24 hours....an alliance that will make them stronger as brothers-at least they have me in common....(and their father, they have him in common, too.)
That is all for now everyone....let the shouting begin...."boys...who's taking the first shower??"
Happy Friday and have a great weekend
It is friday afternoon and my three boys are watching a replay of the Tiger Woods bullcrap session....and they are fighting about it...lets take a listen....
"this was on before"
"who cares"
"what do you want to watch"
"i dont care,anything but this"
"why can't you just tell me what you want to watch"
"why do you have to be so annoying"
"I am not being annoying"
"just put on espn"
"who cares, nothing is on"
"But I don't want to watch that"
"get off of me"
"no, you get off of me"
"you are such an idiot"
"no you are"
"ouch..get off of me..."
"your headphones are too loud"
"what"
"make your ipod lower"
"what"
"can you take your headphones off"
"what?"
"ouch...get off of me"
ARGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is why watching the show The Middle makes me feel that this is perfectly normal and acceptable behavior...if they can make a tv show about three kids who have to watch the same show on three different tv's because they can't agree on the volume, then my kids can't be the only ones who act like this. I guess the only difference is my kids aren't getting paid a lot of money to bicker with eachother(they actually aren't getting paid anything)-but wouldn't that be great? It would make it all worthwhile for them to try and tear limbs off of eachother if they were getting paid...
The week winds down, the sabbath is upon us...soon a calming force will take over the house (especially when they all go with their father to synagogue and I can have a drink...) but before this house reaches that calm, in just a few moments I will ask them all to take showers and get ready and then they will stop screaming at eachother and start screaming at me...do they know that that is the real plan-getting them to form an alliance against the mean cruel mom who doesn't want them to smell over the next 24 hours....an alliance that will make them stronger as brothers-at least they have me in common....(and their father, they have him in common, too.)
That is all for now everyone....let the shouting begin...."boys...who's taking the first shower??"
Happy Friday and have a great weekend
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thursday, February 18,2010
rick springfield, my boyfriend
The first time I saw my boyfriend Rick was on Solid Gold...remember that show? They had those dancers that would come out and perform to the top 10 hits of that week. They would be dressed in scantily clad costumes and one of them had really, really long hair and I could never figure out how she was able to dance without tripping on it....but then there was Rick. OMG....i would call my friend Marcy Robinson on the phone and we would SCREAM--he's so cute, he's so cute, oh my god, I am going to marry him! and then we learned he was also on General Hospital...so we would tape General Hospital during the week and watch it during the commercials of Solid Gold so it could be all Rick...all night. It was heaven. My mom even let me hang a poster of him in the basement (not in my room, because it would rip the wall paper..)
My first concert was to see my boyfriend Rick. My dad took my sister and I to the meadowlands ...I still have the program (which I finally had signed by him a few years ago...sigh...)I can vividly remember my father wearing a walkman to drown out the sound of my Rick....and all of the screaming girls....I was in heaven...
Fast forward to now....the last few Rick concerts I have gone to, well, Ari has called them weight watchers meetings (nice, and you people wonder why i have low self esteem!!) They are 98 % women (2% disgruntled husbands who are hoping to get lucky because they are taking their wives to see this loser perform...sorry rick, I don't think you are a loser, i think you are dreamy...gee, I hope he is reading this...maybe he will want to marry me...sigh) My sister and I went to a free concert in Maryland about 2 years ago-it was so awesome. He was so awesome..and my left hand touched his shirt...OMG!!!!!!!!! I was so excited and screaming so loud, I thought I would just pass out into his arms....(and hopefully, the paramedics would have been close by to revive him after that..)
And then, we got the ultimate news...the Rick Springfield and friends cruise. I didn't care about the friends...but I was going on this cruise. It didn't work out the first two years, something about Ari wanting to go away with me blahblah blah...but for my 40th birthday...my sister and I were going.
But it wasn't meant to be...the information came out a few weeks ago and since the cruise has been such a hit and apparently recession proof (it is amazing what some fat chicks will pay to see MY boyfriend...) they extended the cruise an EXTRA DAY!!! yes, that extra is Saturday. I would be docking in Miami on Saturday. Can I walk from the ship to a hotel? do you think I can get permission for that? anyone? anyone?
So I will not be spending my 40th with Rick this year....maybe my 41rst...but I will always love him...
Happy Thursday....
The first time I saw my boyfriend Rick was on Solid Gold...remember that show? They had those dancers that would come out and perform to the top 10 hits of that week. They would be dressed in scantily clad costumes and one of them had really, really long hair and I could never figure out how she was able to dance without tripping on it....but then there was Rick. OMG....i would call my friend Marcy Robinson on the phone and we would SCREAM--he's so cute, he's so cute, oh my god, I am going to marry him! and then we learned he was also on General Hospital...so we would tape General Hospital during the week and watch it during the commercials of Solid Gold so it could be all Rick...all night. It was heaven. My mom even let me hang a poster of him in the basement (not in my room, because it would rip the wall paper..)
My first concert was to see my boyfriend Rick. My dad took my sister and I to the meadowlands ...I still have the program (which I finally had signed by him a few years ago...sigh...)I can vividly remember my father wearing a walkman to drown out the sound of my Rick....and all of the screaming girls....I was in heaven...
Fast forward to now....the last few Rick concerts I have gone to, well, Ari has called them weight watchers meetings (nice, and you people wonder why i have low self esteem!!) They are 98 % women (2% disgruntled husbands who are hoping to get lucky because they are taking their wives to see this loser perform...sorry rick, I don't think you are a loser, i think you are dreamy...gee, I hope he is reading this...maybe he will want to marry me...sigh) My sister and I went to a free concert in Maryland about 2 years ago-it was so awesome. He was so awesome..and my left hand touched his shirt...OMG!!!!!!!!! I was so excited and screaming so loud, I thought I would just pass out into his arms....(and hopefully, the paramedics would have been close by to revive him after that..)
And then, we got the ultimate news...the Rick Springfield and friends cruise. I didn't care about the friends...but I was going on this cruise. It didn't work out the first two years, something about Ari wanting to go away with me blahblah blah...but for my 40th birthday...my sister and I were going.
But it wasn't meant to be...the information came out a few weeks ago and since the cruise has been such a hit and apparently recession proof (it is amazing what some fat chicks will pay to see MY boyfriend...) they extended the cruise an EXTRA DAY!!! yes, that extra is Saturday. I would be docking in Miami on Saturday. Can I walk from the ship to a hotel? do you think I can get permission for that? anyone? anyone?
So I will not be spending my 40th with Rick this year....maybe my 41rst...but I will always love him...
Happy Thursday....
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
wednesday, febraury 17, 2010
dreams then and now
Some of you may not remember me from the 1980 winter olympics in Lake Placid. I was a finalist in the women's figure skating. I would lace up my skates, go down to my basement and perfom maginificent jumps and twirls-with perfect landings. I only placed 6th overall which is probably why many of you don't remember. It was all very exciting-I was even on saturday night live and on the cover of sports illustrated. I was also a veterinarian(until I learned that I had to be good in math), an artist (until I realized I had no talent), a back-up guitarist for the Go-Gos (need I say more.....) what did you dream of being when you were little?
Now, I dream of being able to go a whole day without screaming at anyone, without any physical pain and with the ability of going to the bathroom without anyone looking for me(and sometimes, just the ability to go the bathroom at all, if you know what I mean)-when did these dreams all change?
I think it is such a blessing for people who dream of becoming, let's say a baseball player, and one day, they actually become one. That is just amazing. When my kids first started playing rec baseball, I used to look at the over-competitive fathers and wonder, "do they really think their kid is going to wind up in the major leaugues?" or, perhaps, that was a dream that they had as a boy...and now, they work for a bank, or a law firm or at a school....not that there is anything wrong with that...most people do not become what they wanted to be when they were little (otherwise, one of my kids is going to be driving an ice cream truck in a few years....not that there is anything wrong with THAT....but for shidduch purposes, I can't tell you which kid it is...see, I can be discreet!!)
And now, I also dream for my kids, or more like PRAY....I pray that they are happy and safe....I pray that they have good health and peace of mind...I pray that all of their dreams come true-no matter how many times those dreams change.
So what if I was never in the olympics (yes, I lied, I was almost in the olympics, but I didn't meet the weight requirement...what a shame-sooo close....) or in the Go-Gos, though I still play a mean air guitar and can lip-syn the words to almost any 80's song (I can also sing them, but that never ends well...) My dreams have changed so many times over the last 3 decades and they have all brought me to where I am now. And who knows, maybe one day, I will be on saturday night live(though, it is on a little late for me...who can stay up so late?)
A girl can dream, you know!
Happy Wednesday...
Some of you may not remember me from the 1980 winter olympics in Lake Placid. I was a finalist in the women's figure skating. I would lace up my skates, go down to my basement and perfom maginificent jumps and twirls-with perfect landings. I only placed 6th overall which is probably why many of you don't remember. It was all very exciting-I was even on saturday night live and on the cover of sports illustrated. I was also a veterinarian(until I learned that I had to be good in math), an artist (until I realized I had no talent), a back-up guitarist for the Go-Gos (need I say more.....) what did you dream of being when you were little?
Now, I dream of being able to go a whole day without screaming at anyone, without any physical pain and with the ability of going to the bathroom without anyone looking for me(and sometimes, just the ability to go the bathroom at all, if you know what I mean)-when did these dreams all change?
I think it is such a blessing for people who dream of becoming, let's say a baseball player, and one day, they actually become one. That is just amazing. When my kids first started playing rec baseball, I used to look at the over-competitive fathers and wonder, "do they really think their kid is going to wind up in the major leaugues?" or, perhaps, that was a dream that they had as a boy...and now, they work for a bank, or a law firm or at a school....not that there is anything wrong with that...most people do not become what they wanted to be when they were little (otherwise, one of my kids is going to be driving an ice cream truck in a few years....not that there is anything wrong with THAT....but for shidduch purposes, I can't tell you which kid it is...see, I can be discreet!!)
And now, I also dream for my kids, or more like PRAY....I pray that they are happy and safe....I pray that they have good health and peace of mind...I pray that all of their dreams come true-no matter how many times those dreams change.
So what if I was never in the olympics (yes, I lied, I was almost in the olympics, but I didn't meet the weight requirement...what a shame-sooo close....) or in the Go-Gos, though I still play a mean air guitar and can lip-syn the words to almost any 80's song (I can also sing them, but that never ends well...) My dreams have changed so many times over the last 3 decades and they have all brought me to where I am now. And who knows, maybe one day, I will be on saturday night live(though, it is on a little late for me...who can stay up so late?)
A girl can dream, you know!
Happy Wednesday...
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
the hazards of living with a large woman....
Poor, poor Ari...sends me the roses, makes reservations for dinner, plans the movie time-all ready for a nice, romantic evening...comes home Sunday at around 4:30 pm and finds me in a state of pre-death stomach virus. It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was the total opposite of anything resembling pretty. In fact, I am pretty sure in my state of semi-consciousness I heard him mutter "if you didn't want to go out tonight, you could have just said something...." While in the confines of my bathroom, I thought I was going to pass out, I felt myself go totally cold, all i could think of was Ari-what the hell is the guy going to do if he finds me passed out on the floor-besides laugh hysterically at the sight in front of him...I made it back into bed and have now lived to tell the tale. But, it reminded me of a story that happened to us almost 14 years ago in the scenic Tamarack Hotel......
The year is 1996 and I am almost 9 months pregnant with Jack. We decide to spend a quiet, romantic (as romantic as you can get when you are that pregnant and can barely move) weekend in the beautiful catskill mountains. I love the catskills. And I love unlimited kosher food...so the Tamarack it was. Not quite sure why we chose that hotel, but that isn't the point.
The rooms were surprisingly nice for a hotel of that age (100 years? who knows..) and in the room were these big, beautiful wicker chairs with the huge round backs. It is saturday night, we are getting ready to go into woodbourne (at that point, we were still in our 20's at were allowed in....) and I plop my big,fat tush into one of these wicker chairs with the huge round backs. For some reason, I though it would be ok to lean back on the chair-after all, it had that huge round back to support me.
I slowly began to tip backwards-I will never forget the look of horror on Ari's face. The tipping did not stop and before I knew it, I had smacked, back-down on the floor practically suctioned into the chair...the look on Ari's face only got worse....how was he supposed to extract his 250 pound wife from the chair and then get her back into a standing position. Aside from the fact we were nervous if something had happened to the baby because I landed back so hard that I had chipped my teeth.
But even with all the worry, we couln't stop laughing and when I think of the story even now, I can't stop laughing...poor poor Ari....thank god the baby was ok, I was ok and i was able to roll over and get myself back up. But it was touch-n-go for a while.
I guess I will have to make Sunday night up to him at some point!
Sorry this one is so short...I am still recovering...
Happy Tuesday and be careful out there...it's a mess...
Poor, poor Ari...sends me the roses, makes reservations for dinner, plans the movie time-all ready for a nice, romantic evening...comes home Sunday at around 4:30 pm and finds me in a state of pre-death stomach virus. It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was the total opposite of anything resembling pretty. In fact, I am pretty sure in my state of semi-consciousness I heard him mutter "if you didn't want to go out tonight, you could have just said something...." While in the confines of my bathroom, I thought I was going to pass out, I felt myself go totally cold, all i could think of was Ari-what the hell is the guy going to do if he finds me passed out on the floor-besides laugh hysterically at the sight in front of him...I made it back into bed and have now lived to tell the tale. But, it reminded me of a story that happened to us almost 14 years ago in the scenic Tamarack Hotel......
The year is 1996 and I am almost 9 months pregnant with Jack. We decide to spend a quiet, romantic (as romantic as you can get when you are that pregnant and can barely move) weekend in the beautiful catskill mountains. I love the catskills. And I love unlimited kosher food...so the Tamarack it was. Not quite sure why we chose that hotel, but that isn't the point.
The rooms were surprisingly nice for a hotel of that age (100 years? who knows..) and in the room were these big, beautiful wicker chairs with the huge round backs. It is saturday night, we are getting ready to go into woodbourne (at that point, we were still in our 20's at were allowed in....) and I plop my big,fat tush into one of these wicker chairs with the huge round backs. For some reason, I though it would be ok to lean back on the chair-after all, it had that huge round back to support me.
I slowly began to tip backwards-I will never forget the look of horror on Ari's face. The tipping did not stop and before I knew it, I had smacked, back-down on the floor practically suctioned into the chair...the look on Ari's face only got worse....how was he supposed to extract his 250 pound wife from the chair and then get her back into a standing position. Aside from the fact we were nervous if something had happened to the baby because I landed back so hard that I had chipped my teeth.
But even with all the worry, we couln't stop laughing and when I think of the story even now, I can't stop laughing...poor poor Ari....thank god the baby was ok, I was ok and i was able to roll over and get myself back up. But it was touch-n-go for a while.
I guess I will have to make Sunday night up to him at some point!
Sorry this one is so short...I am still recovering...
Happy Tuesday and be careful out there...it's a mess...
Sunday, February 14, 2010
sunday, february 14, 2010
teaching romance to boys....
My kids have been off from school since Wednesday. Suprisingly, it has been going relatively well and without incident...(if you don't count a few days ago, when I made them all get out of the car and walk about mile home in the snow because they were all being mean to me....) But that all changed at 12:58 am , Saturday morning. Jack, the skinniest goalie in bergen county, was hit with a stomach bug. Now for those of you who know Jack, he is not the most robust of young men. The kid has no body fat, none. He is a totally engima. When I go shopping for him and have to buy him extra smalls (which are still too big) I can almost hear the gods laughing at me. Needless to say, after throwing up 15 times, the poor kid looked like a holocaust survivor. It wasn't pretty.
We were both exhausted (I only say we because I was the compassionate parent on-call and was compassionate to Ari as well by making him go upstairs and get a good night's sleep-yes, you don't have to tell me, I already know what a great wife i am...)but Jack really wanted to watch the 3 point contest, the slam dunk contest, the who-has-the-most-tattoos contest and whatever other basketball nonsense that was being offered because of the nba all star weekend. I, surprisingly, was totally not interested. I stole the remote and was determined to find something that we both could watch.
I happened across the movie 17 Again and told Jack that this was MUCH better than watching a bunch of men put a ball in a basket. 17 Again starts Zac Efron of high school musical fame(never saw it) and Matthew Perry of friends (Jack had no idea who he was and I was made to feel old, yet again.) So for those of you who haven't seen the movie, it is about a 38 year old guy who wants to go back to the "good old days" of being 17...while this magically happens to him, he is able to reconnect with his kids(who end up going to high school with him) and fall in love with his wife again.(predictable yes, oscar winning, what do you think)
Anyway, we get to the exciting conclusion of the movie, Matthew Perry is professing his love to his wife, from whom he has been separated..there are tears in my eyes, because everyone woman wants to hear how much they are loved, everyone woman wants to hear their man apologize for being a moron-ladies, you know what I am talking about. As this romantic dialogue is progressing Jack says "this is sooo boring, can we please change the channel." OMG, he really is a little man....what was I supposed to respond to that? What wise motherly advice was I supposed to give him? I, suprisingly, let it go and allowed him to change the channel.
Over the years, I have delivered standard lines to my boys "I am your best friend until you get married and then your wife is your best friend," nice-right? "Please use silverware when you go to your girl friend's home for meals" and my favorite "Please tell your wife that the doctors have tried several medications but I will always be a total nut-case...." But I just wasn't ready to give Jack a lesson in romance. It would wait for another time.
And then this morning came. I was on the computer(surprise, surprise) and the doorbell rang. My boys all came rushing over to me with a box of flowers that had been ordered on Friday, to come today-valentine's day. Ari then informed me that it was Jack's idea. He had called Ari at work to tell him that he was going to order me flowers and signed the card "Love, your four boys."
I am no longer worried about Jack....but I am still going to make him watch the end of the movie when it is on again.
Happy Sunday
My kids have been off from school since Wednesday. Suprisingly, it has been going relatively well and without incident...(if you don't count a few days ago, when I made them all get out of the car and walk about mile home in the snow because they were all being mean to me....) But that all changed at 12:58 am , Saturday morning. Jack, the skinniest goalie in bergen county, was hit with a stomach bug. Now for those of you who know Jack, he is not the most robust of young men. The kid has no body fat, none. He is a totally engima. When I go shopping for him and have to buy him extra smalls (which are still too big) I can almost hear the gods laughing at me. Needless to say, after throwing up 15 times, the poor kid looked like a holocaust survivor. It wasn't pretty.
We were both exhausted (I only say we because I was the compassionate parent on-call and was compassionate to Ari as well by making him go upstairs and get a good night's sleep-yes, you don't have to tell me, I already know what a great wife i am...)but Jack really wanted to watch the 3 point contest, the slam dunk contest, the who-has-the-most-tattoos contest and whatever other basketball nonsense that was being offered because of the nba all star weekend. I, surprisingly, was totally not interested. I stole the remote and was determined to find something that we both could watch.
I happened across the movie 17 Again and told Jack that this was MUCH better than watching a bunch of men put a ball in a basket. 17 Again starts Zac Efron of high school musical fame(never saw it) and Matthew Perry of friends (Jack had no idea who he was and I was made to feel old, yet again.) So for those of you who haven't seen the movie, it is about a 38 year old guy who wants to go back to the "good old days" of being 17...while this magically happens to him, he is able to reconnect with his kids(who end up going to high school with him) and fall in love with his wife again.(predictable yes, oscar winning, what do you think)
Anyway, we get to the exciting conclusion of the movie, Matthew Perry is professing his love to his wife, from whom he has been separated..there are tears in my eyes, because everyone woman wants to hear how much they are loved, everyone woman wants to hear their man apologize for being a moron-ladies, you know what I am talking about. As this romantic dialogue is progressing Jack says "this is sooo boring, can we please change the channel." OMG, he really is a little man....what was I supposed to respond to that? What wise motherly advice was I supposed to give him? I, suprisingly, let it go and allowed him to change the channel.
Over the years, I have delivered standard lines to my boys "I am your best friend until you get married and then your wife is your best friend," nice-right? "Please use silverware when you go to your girl friend's home for meals" and my favorite "Please tell your wife that the doctors have tried several medications but I will always be a total nut-case...." But I just wasn't ready to give Jack a lesson in romance. It would wait for another time.
And then this morning came. I was on the computer(surprise, surprise) and the doorbell rang. My boys all came rushing over to me with a box of flowers that had been ordered on Friday, to come today-valentine's day. Ari then informed me that it was Jack's idea. He had called Ari at work to tell him that he was going to order me flowers and signed the card "Love, your four boys."
I am no longer worried about Jack....but I am still going to make him watch the end of the movie when it is on again.
Happy Sunday
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday, February 12,2010 are my kids ever going back to school?
ballerina banji (no, i am not kidding) screw being positive day 5
Good intentions. As parents we all start out with good intentions. We want what is best for our children. We want them to be happy, to feel fulfilled, to have a positive self image and to grow into thriving, confident adults. Some times, we are successful and some times, not so much.
When my parents decided to send me to the Irene Fokine School of Ballet, I am sure they had all of the best intentions (or did they?). I am sure they thought that sending chubby Banji to ballet school would help her self-image, her posture, her confidence (or did they?). I am sure they did it out of love for their darling daughter ...because doesn't every little girl want to be a ballerina.(just in case you weren't catching the sarcasm, the answer is N O.)
So off Banji went to become a ballerina. She came into class wearing her pink danskin tights(cutting off the circulation to her head and making her quite dizzy, while she wondered how they were going to stay up because she couldn't pull them all the way up over her belly) her black danskin leotard (not giving a visual of that one, I was only 9 or 10..) ballet slippers(those looked fantastic, I have always had surpsingly narrow feet...) and a H U G E sweatshirt over the previously mentioned leotard. I was ready, for anything, no one would ever know what was going on under that sweatshirt.)
"Ms. Banji," the teacher began, "please remove your sweatshirt..we are all young ladies here and need to be in the same uniform..." oh god...someone save me....I turned to ask my mom if I could leave, but she is no dummy, she got the hell out of there to go shopping on Ridgewood Avenue. I was totally on my own.
Now, back then, extra curricular activities weren't like they are now. No one called 15 of their closest friends to see if they were going to take ballet...to arrange post-ballet playdates and a carpool for next 3 years of their lives. It was survival of the fittest...I was being thrown to the wolves and they were all really, really skinny.
And it wasn't just that they were all petit little things who actually wanted to be there...their names were Kathy, Katherine, Katie, Katrina, Chrissy, Christina..do you see where I am going? Not only was I the token jew in an all-wasp ridgewood ballet school, I was a really big token jew. I had to stand in the back for every class, apparently because I was so tall (whatever) and I never could be in any of the recitals because they were always on Saturday. Now, how was this helping my self-esteem exactly? Did my parents send me to this school because they knew I couldn't be in the Nutcracker?I would have made a darn good sugar plum fairy, and then I could have eaten the costume!!
So the ballet torture went on for about a year or two...it is hard to remember, the electro shock therapy that followed erased the exact time table of those events....the one thing I did learn? well, one afternoon, when my dad was driving me home, his car had a blow out and he taught me how to steer to the side of the road to avoid getting into an accident. No cell phones then, so we walked the rest of the way back to Fair Lawn..we were only a mile or two away. That was a nice walk, and I do remember that pretty clearly. (so pretty much that was the one good thing that came out of the whole ballet nightmare...guess it could be worse...I could've broken a leg getting it stuck on the bar (or is it barre?))
So yes, maybe my parents intentions were good. I guess, truthfully, I don't really know and I have put it behind me. At least I was able to rule out being a ballerina professionally...unless they do a remake of Fantasia-dancing hippos anyone??
Happy Friday
Good intentions. As parents we all start out with good intentions. We want what is best for our children. We want them to be happy, to feel fulfilled, to have a positive self image and to grow into thriving, confident adults. Some times, we are successful and some times, not so much.
When my parents decided to send me to the Irene Fokine School of Ballet, I am sure they had all of the best intentions (or did they?). I am sure they thought that sending chubby Banji to ballet school would help her self-image, her posture, her confidence (or did they?). I am sure they did it out of love for their darling daughter ...because doesn't every little girl want to be a ballerina.(just in case you weren't catching the sarcasm, the answer is N O.)
So off Banji went to become a ballerina. She came into class wearing her pink danskin tights(cutting off the circulation to her head and making her quite dizzy, while she wondered how they were going to stay up because she couldn't pull them all the way up over her belly) her black danskin leotard (not giving a visual of that one, I was only 9 or 10..) ballet slippers(those looked fantastic, I have always had surpsingly narrow feet...) and a H U G E sweatshirt over the previously mentioned leotard. I was ready, for anything, no one would ever know what was going on under that sweatshirt.)
"Ms. Banji," the teacher began, "please remove your sweatshirt..we are all young ladies here and need to be in the same uniform..." oh god...someone save me....I turned to ask my mom if I could leave, but she is no dummy, she got the hell out of there to go shopping on Ridgewood Avenue. I was totally on my own.
Now, back then, extra curricular activities weren't like they are now. No one called 15 of their closest friends to see if they were going to take ballet...to arrange post-ballet playdates and a carpool for next 3 years of their lives. It was survival of the fittest...I was being thrown to the wolves and they were all really, really skinny.
And it wasn't just that they were all petit little things who actually wanted to be there...their names were Kathy, Katherine, Katie, Katrina, Chrissy, Christina..do you see where I am going? Not only was I the token jew in an all-wasp ridgewood ballet school, I was a really big token jew. I had to stand in the back for every class, apparently because I was so tall (whatever) and I never could be in any of the recitals because they were always on Saturday. Now, how was this helping my self-esteem exactly? Did my parents send me to this school because they knew I couldn't be in the Nutcracker?I would have made a darn good sugar plum fairy, and then I could have eaten the costume!!
So the ballet torture went on for about a year or two...it is hard to remember, the electro shock therapy that followed erased the exact time table of those events....the one thing I did learn? well, one afternoon, when my dad was driving me home, his car had a blow out and he taught me how to steer to the side of the road to avoid getting into an accident. No cell phones then, so we walked the rest of the way back to Fair Lawn..we were only a mile or two away. That was a nice walk, and I do remember that pretty clearly. (so pretty much that was the one good thing that came out of the whole ballet nightmare...guess it could be worse...I could've broken a leg getting it stuck on the bar (or is it barre?))
So yes, maybe my parents intentions were good. I guess, truthfully, I don't really know and I have put it behind me. At least I was able to rule out being a ballerina professionally...unless they do a remake of Fantasia-dancing hippos anyone??
Happy Friday
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010 the never ending snow day
food & jews vs food& non-jews
Historically, there has always been a strong relationship between jews and food. We eat when we are happy, when a baby is born, at weddings, at bar mitzvas, when there is a new moon, when there is an old moon...and since we are an equal opportunity religion, we also eat when we are sad, when someone is dying, when someone dies, when someone finds out they are going to die...we eat. all the time. some of us have more control than others and some of us feel it is just our god given right.
I love going to kiddushes where you see people with their tin foil and bags, stocking up on petit fours and gefilte fish...just in case someone gets hungry on the two block walk home. I have been witness to guests at various simchas having extra meals wrapped up to bring home to their babysitters, their kids, their in laws, their neighbors...cause, you never know who is going want an extra stuffed cornish hen.
The most comical, however, in my opinion, is what happens at hotels over passover. Last year at the granit, we saw one family request 20 orders of duck (duck, yuck, quack quack but its expensive so it must be good!) have them wrapped and brought them up their rooms. Tea rooms are always filled with people who just can't get enough of those delectable-saw-dust-kosher-for-passover cookies. The walk back to the room is a long and strenuous one, you need that extra boost of fiber to keep you going! How many oranges can one smuggle into their pocketbook without looking suspicious? There isn't a baby in that woman's stroller, she put 4 bottles of soda in there and covered them with the kid's blanket!! I, myself, have been guilty of hording those yummy,sticky, delicious, almond kisses. I confess..they are pretty darn good. (though I must admit that this past summer, on our road trip we were in Milwaukee and the almond kisses were on sale for like a dollar so i bought them...when I opened them, I discovered why they were on sale. Needless to say, they were not from any recent passover and not even I could eat them..very, very bad) Anyway...so people at hotels really like to go that extra mile, get their moneys worth and make the most of the holiday season.
When we used to go to the concord, we ordered more than one of everything on the menu and we ate and enjoyed..and it was really really good. (and probably not really kosher for passover, but that is for another blog.)
So I always thought it was just the jews that liked to go to town at kiddushes and hotels...comedians would make fun of our eating habits...it has all been a big joke.
and then ari and i started going on cruises.....
Folks, it's not just the jews....
How many orders of lobster can 1 person order? "well, they only have it this one night.." was the explanation of the woman sitting next to us while we ate our double wrapped freezedried stuffed cabbage (yum) I think she had 4 or 5 orders...I was impressed and started to feel a little less alone in my relationship with food.
The lines for the buffets just wrapped round and round and round. the 24 hour pizza station was constantly packed and the 24 hour ice cream was also always busy (ok, that was kosher, so i did take part in the ice cream frenzy..as i had to explain to ari, there is only so much ice cream you can fit on those little cones-you have to keep going back!!)
So Ari and I were able to sit back and observe (since we couldn't eat...but one day, when we have no more tuition, we will make it to the ultimate...the kosher cruise....I have a dream..and it is eating non stop on the ocean...I am kidding, that isn't really a dream of mine. ok, maybe just a small dream.) all of these non-jews eating like food was going out of style. One night, the ship had a chocolate theme...chocolate fountains, chocolate cake, chocolate covered fruit, nuts, you get the point...you would think they were giving out money the way these folks were all over it. Pushing and fighting, cutting eachother in line -IT'S JUST CHOCOLATE PEOPLE!! what am i talking about? we would be doing the same thing if we could!!!
The whole experience made me feel a little more normal (yes, I know, I am not normal,,but I am still trying to be positive so lets just let that one go...) People are people, whether they are jewish or not, and food is food. And all people like food (except for those really weird ones who think they only must eat to live and not live to eat-i will never understand those folks....) A good buffet can make anyone smile.
Happy Thursday and hope everyone is enjoying the snow.
Historically, there has always been a strong relationship between jews and food. We eat when we are happy, when a baby is born, at weddings, at bar mitzvas, when there is a new moon, when there is an old moon...and since we are an equal opportunity religion, we also eat when we are sad, when someone is dying, when someone dies, when someone finds out they are going to die...we eat. all the time. some of us have more control than others and some of us feel it is just our god given right.
I love going to kiddushes where you see people with their tin foil and bags, stocking up on petit fours and gefilte fish...just in case someone gets hungry on the two block walk home. I have been witness to guests at various simchas having extra meals wrapped up to bring home to their babysitters, their kids, their in laws, their neighbors...cause, you never know who is going want an extra stuffed cornish hen.
The most comical, however, in my opinion, is what happens at hotels over passover. Last year at the granit, we saw one family request 20 orders of duck (duck, yuck, quack quack but its expensive so it must be good!) have them wrapped and brought them up their rooms. Tea rooms are always filled with people who just can't get enough of those delectable-saw-dust-kosher-for-passover cookies. The walk back to the room is a long and strenuous one, you need that extra boost of fiber to keep you going! How many oranges can one smuggle into their pocketbook without looking suspicious? There isn't a baby in that woman's stroller, she put 4 bottles of soda in there and covered them with the kid's blanket!! I, myself, have been guilty of hording those yummy,sticky, delicious, almond kisses. I confess..they are pretty darn good. (though I must admit that this past summer, on our road trip we were in Milwaukee and the almond kisses were on sale for like a dollar so i bought them...when I opened them, I discovered why they were on sale. Needless to say, they were not from any recent passover and not even I could eat them..very, very bad) Anyway...so people at hotels really like to go that extra mile, get their moneys worth and make the most of the holiday season.
When we used to go to the concord, we ordered more than one of everything on the menu and we ate and enjoyed..and it was really really good. (and probably not really kosher for passover, but that is for another blog.)
So I always thought it was just the jews that liked to go to town at kiddushes and hotels...comedians would make fun of our eating habits...it has all been a big joke.
and then ari and i started going on cruises.....
Folks, it's not just the jews....
How many orders of lobster can 1 person order? "well, they only have it this one night.." was the explanation of the woman sitting next to us while we ate our double wrapped freezedried stuffed cabbage (yum) I think she had 4 or 5 orders...I was impressed and started to feel a little less alone in my relationship with food.
The lines for the buffets just wrapped round and round and round. the 24 hour pizza station was constantly packed and the 24 hour ice cream was also always busy (ok, that was kosher, so i did take part in the ice cream frenzy..as i had to explain to ari, there is only so much ice cream you can fit on those little cones-you have to keep going back!!)
So Ari and I were able to sit back and observe (since we couldn't eat...but one day, when we have no more tuition, we will make it to the ultimate...the kosher cruise....I have a dream..and it is eating non stop on the ocean...I am kidding, that isn't really a dream of mine. ok, maybe just a small dream.) all of these non-jews eating like food was going out of style. One night, the ship had a chocolate theme...chocolate fountains, chocolate cake, chocolate covered fruit, nuts, you get the point...you would think they were giving out money the way these folks were all over it. Pushing and fighting, cutting eachother in line -IT'S JUST CHOCOLATE PEOPLE!! what am i talking about? we would be doing the same thing if we could!!!
The whole experience made me feel a little more normal (yes, I know, I am not normal,,but I am still trying to be positive so lets just let that one go...) People are people, whether they are jewish or not, and food is food. And all people like food (except for those really weird ones who think they only must eat to live and not live to eat-i will never understand those folks....) A good buffet can make anyone smile.
Happy Thursday and hope everyone is enjoying the snow.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010 30 Years since Latkins Lovers Day :(
playing with dolls. Then and Now(and week of being positive day 3..blablabla)
I am beginning to wonder if there is a correlation between how little girls play with their dolls and how those same girls then grow up to parent their children.(though if some of us maintain that we actually never grow up, I truly hope that no one who works for dyfs (division of youth and family services, ie, people who have the ability to remove my children from my home..) is reading this.
My relationship with my dolls was always an interesting one. I was the second daughter for my parents and daughter number 1, my sister (who is stuck in much much snow in Maryland)loved her dolls. She cherished them..took meticulous care of them-brushed their hair, made sure their clothes were always perfect, put them back in their boxes so nothing would happen to them. My mother, I am sure, was ecstatic. For those of you who know my mom, you know that she has quite the fondness for dolls. They have taken over my childhood home. I am actually surprised that my dad hasn't been asked to move off premises so my mom could have more room for her collection... ok, back to the point...so my sister took really really great care of her dolls. In fact, I think she still has them and they are all in perfect condition.
So here, my mom was probably thrilled to have a second little girl. (I actually do know she was thrilled when I was first born...the years following my birth, not so sure how thrilled she was..) Another little girl to buy dolls for. And not just your average-run-of-the-mill dolls...Madame Alexander dolls-the rolls royce of dolls.
If daughter number one took such good care of her dolls, she would teach her sister the same. Life was perfect in the Latkin household. But then, daughter number 2 was old enough to play with those said dolls....and here, ladies and gentlemen, is where the problems started.
Dolls, for me, did not have the same meaning that they had for my sister. I did not want to brush their hair or change their clothes and keep them neat and clean. Did you know that when you cut a doll's hair it doesn't grow back? Poor ballerina barbie was bald except for the non-detachable crown that you would use to spin her around...I actually still have that one because my grandmother gave it to me.
Did you know that when you hold a doll under water, the water starts to bubble as the doll slowly drowns-i thought that was a really neat noise. The dolls actually survived those drownings..(and I did keep trying.)
Did you know that a doll's limbs can come off and then pop right back on!! So cool.
Needless to say, my behavior did not win over the affection of my mother and my sister didn't let me into her room, well, ever, for fear that I might do to her precious babies what I did to mine....At least that is why I think she never let me into her room... So dolls just weren't my thing. What kind of mother was I going to be if I couldn't even take care of my dolls. The doll that used to make a crying noise when you would shake it-I would toss it around to see how many different noises I could get out of it...hours and hours of fun...(wait, am I a psychopath? psychotic, maybe, but this is getting disturbing..)
I am happy to report, that I have been a much better mother to my "real" babies, than I was to my dolls. I never cut their hair, tried to drown them or pulled their limbs out of their sockets.(please don't ask if I have ever tried to do those things to Ari....honestly, when I cut his hair, I really thought it would grow back-totally not my fault....) I loved playing with my kids for hours when they were little, making projects, going to the zoo and now I just love being their referee.
So, no, there is no relationship between how one plays with their dolls and what kind of mother they become, at least not for me. I love my kids, even when they are being, well..kids...
enjoy the snow, stay safe and Happy Wednesday!
I am beginning to wonder if there is a correlation between how little girls play with their dolls and how those same girls then grow up to parent their children.(though if some of us maintain that we actually never grow up, I truly hope that no one who works for dyfs (division of youth and family services, ie, people who have the ability to remove my children from my home..) is reading this.
My relationship with my dolls was always an interesting one. I was the second daughter for my parents and daughter number 1, my sister (who is stuck in much much snow in Maryland)loved her dolls. She cherished them..took meticulous care of them-brushed their hair, made sure their clothes were always perfect, put them back in their boxes so nothing would happen to them. My mother, I am sure, was ecstatic. For those of you who know my mom, you know that she has quite the fondness for dolls. They have taken over my childhood home. I am actually surprised that my dad hasn't been asked to move off premises so my mom could have more room for her collection... ok, back to the point...so my sister took really really great care of her dolls. In fact, I think she still has them and they are all in perfect condition.
So here, my mom was probably thrilled to have a second little girl. (I actually do know she was thrilled when I was first born...the years following my birth, not so sure how thrilled she was..) Another little girl to buy dolls for. And not just your average-run-of-the-mill dolls...Madame Alexander dolls-the rolls royce of dolls.
If daughter number one took such good care of her dolls, she would teach her sister the same. Life was perfect in the Latkin household. But then, daughter number 2 was old enough to play with those said dolls....and here, ladies and gentlemen, is where the problems started.
Dolls, for me, did not have the same meaning that they had for my sister. I did not want to brush their hair or change their clothes and keep them neat and clean. Did you know that when you cut a doll's hair it doesn't grow back? Poor ballerina barbie was bald except for the non-detachable crown that you would use to spin her around...I actually still have that one because my grandmother gave it to me.
Did you know that when you hold a doll under water, the water starts to bubble as the doll slowly drowns-i thought that was a really neat noise. The dolls actually survived those drownings..(and I did keep trying.)
Did you know that a doll's limbs can come off and then pop right back on!! So cool.
Needless to say, my behavior did not win over the affection of my mother and my sister didn't let me into her room, well, ever, for fear that I might do to her precious babies what I did to mine....At least that is why I think she never let me into her room... So dolls just weren't my thing. What kind of mother was I going to be if I couldn't even take care of my dolls. The doll that used to make a crying noise when you would shake it-I would toss it around to see how many different noises I could get out of it...hours and hours of fun...(wait, am I a psychopath? psychotic, maybe, but this is getting disturbing..)
I am happy to report, that I have been a much better mother to my "real" babies, than I was to my dolls. I never cut their hair, tried to drown them or pulled their limbs out of their sockets.(please don't ask if I have ever tried to do those things to Ari....honestly, when I cut his hair, I really thought it would grow back-totally not my fault....) I loved playing with my kids for hours when they were little, making projects, going to the zoo and now I just love being their referee.
So, no, there is no relationship between how one plays with their dolls and what kind of mother they become, at least not for me. I love my kids, even when they are being, well..kids...
enjoy the snow, stay safe and Happy Wednesday!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Tuesday February 9, 2010
week of being positive day 2 ari..forgive me, I had to do it...
In an attempt to help make me a more positive person, my very positive husband came home with "10 Practical Guidelines for Positive Speech." Listen, you have got to give the guy credit. We have been married for almost 15 years and, surprisingly, he still has not succumbed to my evil ways. He gives charity, he does good deeds, he prays three times a day....some may think he is doing this to try and save my soul, but I am still convinced that he does it so we don't end up spending eternity in the same place...who knows...Anyway...here is my positive take on those guidelines. GOD forgive me. Don't worry, I will not be giving commentary on all 10, only the ones that work to my advantage.
Be kind to yourself. Speaking badly even about yourself is unethical.
-OK, in theory this is really sweet. But, if you want to be kind to yourself, go get a massage, as for me, I happen to enjoy making fun of myself if is part of who I am. If it were really unethical, why would I have been given so much material to work with? (and boy, do I have a L O T of material....) It is all a part of my negative narcissistic personality disorder. I can't tell you what is going on in government (except that another democrat has passed away, rest his soul, let's keep our fingers crossed for a republican replacement) But I can tell you how many people in a room I am fatter than...oo,not positive, but funny.
Don't listen to gossip. If you can't change the direction of the conversation, it is advisable to leave.
-oh my...restaraunts all over my neighborhood would be empty. People would be getting out of their cars in the middle of the highway and causing accidents...women would be falling off of their treadmills at the gym, cell phones would be seen being tossed out of workplaces and city buses....think of the totally anarchy if it was really possible to follow this one. I will try my best, but I have so few friends already, how many more people could I alienate by walking away from them mid-conversation-it is just plain rude!!
Always give others the benefit of the doubt and focus on the positive
-does anyone really do this? COME ON PEOPLE....sometimes, there is no positive, let's be honest. (I am soo going to hell...)
and I will conclude with this one...a personal favorite...
USE KIND AND SUPPORTIVE WORDS WITH YOUR CHILDREN AND SPOUSE WHENEVER POSSIBLE. HARSH WORDS CAN CAUSE IRREPARABLE HARM AS CAN SPEAKING DEROGATORILY TO OTHERS ABOUT THE ONES YOU LOVE MOST
-there are so many directions I could take with this one. But tomorrow is a snow day and I have a feeling I will be home with the ones-i-love-most for an extended period of time....ok, I can't do it. Kind and supportive words-really? I leave an empty box of envelopes on the floor for 6 DAYS-6 DAYS and not one person bothered to pick it up and throw it out. They had to walk over it to get to the computer and no one threw it out????? Tell me how to be kind and supportive-really...I want to know.
(that was tame...after all, I am trying to be positive...)
So what have we learned from all of these lessons, I will tell you. Food is love. That is right, it all comes back to food. Open a box of marshmallow iced devils food cake and no gossip comes out. Rip off the top of a pint of rocky road ice cream, and you can't help but feeling you are being kind to yourself. Dig in to some yummy General Tzo's Chicken with rice and let the kind and supportive words flow(well,after eating that, it might not necessarily be words that are flowing..but you get the point.)
Yup, I can make anything come back to the love and support of food.
Happy Tuesday.....
In an attempt to help make me a more positive person, my very positive husband came home with "10 Practical Guidelines for Positive Speech." Listen, you have got to give the guy credit. We have been married for almost 15 years and, surprisingly, he still has not succumbed to my evil ways. He gives charity, he does good deeds, he prays three times a day....some may think he is doing this to try and save my soul, but I am still convinced that he does it so we don't end up spending eternity in the same place...who knows...Anyway...here is my positive take on those guidelines. GOD forgive me. Don't worry, I will not be giving commentary on all 10, only the ones that work to my advantage.
Be kind to yourself. Speaking badly even about yourself is unethical.
-OK, in theory this is really sweet. But, if you want to be kind to yourself, go get a massage, as for me, I happen to enjoy making fun of myself if is part of who I am. If it were really unethical, why would I have been given so much material to work with? (and boy, do I have a L O T of material....) It is all a part of my negative narcissistic personality disorder. I can't tell you what is going on in government (except that another democrat has passed away, rest his soul, let's keep our fingers crossed for a republican replacement) But I can tell you how many people in a room I am fatter than...oo,not positive, but funny.
Don't listen to gossip. If you can't change the direction of the conversation, it is advisable to leave.
-oh my...restaraunts all over my neighborhood would be empty. People would be getting out of their cars in the middle of the highway and causing accidents...women would be falling off of their treadmills at the gym, cell phones would be seen being tossed out of workplaces and city buses....think of the totally anarchy if it was really possible to follow this one. I will try my best, but I have so few friends already, how many more people could I alienate by walking away from them mid-conversation-it is just plain rude!!
Always give others the benefit of the doubt and focus on the positive
-does anyone really do this? COME ON PEOPLE....sometimes, there is no positive, let's be honest. (I am soo going to hell...)
and I will conclude with this one...a personal favorite...
USE KIND AND SUPPORTIVE WORDS WITH YOUR CHILDREN AND SPOUSE WHENEVER POSSIBLE. HARSH WORDS CAN CAUSE IRREPARABLE HARM AS CAN SPEAKING DEROGATORILY TO OTHERS ABOUT THE ONES YOU LOVE MOST
-there are so many directions I could take with this one. But tomorrow is a snow day and I have a feeling I will be home with the ones-i-love-most for an extended period of time....ok, I can't do it. Kind and supportive words-really? I leave an empty box of envelopes on the floor for 6 DAYS-6 DAYS and not one person bothered to pick it up and throw it out. They had to walk over it to get to the computer and no one threw it out????? Tell me how to be kind and supportive-really...I want to know.
(that was tame...after all, I am trying to be positive...)
So what have we learned from all of these lessons, I will tell you. Food is love. That is right, it all comes back to food. Open a box of marshmallow iced devils food cake and no gossip comes out. Rip off the top of a pint of rocky road ice cream, and you can't help but feeling you are being kind to yourself. Dig in to some yummy General Tzo's Chicken with rice and let the kind and supportive words flow(well,after eating that, it might not necessarily be words that are flowing..but you get the point.)
Yup, I can make anything come back to the love and support of food.
Happy Tuesday.....
Monday, February 8, 2010
Monday February 8,2010
the week of living positively-day 1
I have been the subject of an intervention. It has been brought to my attention by the lucky guy who has to live with me that,perhaps, I tend to be a bit negative. I am not sure where he gets this idea from, but he has given me a challenge. Can I, Banji Dawn(yes, Dawn) Latkin-Ganchrow, be positive for one week. Not in real day-to-day life, but in my blogging life. Can all of my observations about anything be positive....I have accepted this challenge,appreciated the intervention and will try my best. Fortunately, there was no betting involved, so, for me, it is a win-win situation if I do not meet his expectations. But for him...well, I apologize in advance. It could be worse....you could've married someone else and never would have known the joy of being married to someone moody...and what a joy it is! (see-I said JOY-positive word!!)
Let us begin.....
I am so happy that the superbowl is over. The Saints won, so hopefully Reggie Bush and Kim Kardashian, two really close friends of the Ganchrow family, might actually get married. Keeping my fingers crossed-those crazy kids have been together for years and we are so happy for them. But the real reason why I am happy about the superbowl being over is that it culminates weeks and weeks of being ignored on Sundays. There is nothing more upsetting then when you entire family leaves you alone for up to five hours to be left to your own devices. Your only responsibility- leaving them dinner on the table when the game is over...
I can't wait to have family sundays again-ahh, gathering around the fireplace to discuss plans-what should we do? another art museum? perhaps a nature walk through historic downtown newark? a culinary tour of the lower east side? disney on ice? the possibilities are endless. I am so fortunate to be a part of a family that loves to do things like that together. And now that the football season is over-we will have that chance. The group hugs...the high fives....the big, warm smiles of my boys while we watch Mickey Mouse sail across the ice, wearing those adorable Mickey ears....good times, good times.
Hold it...I am so positive that hockey season is still in full swing....are those games on Sunday? will we have to postpone all of those wonderful family trips? Oh no, will I have to retreat back down to the bunker so no one knows that I am home and aren't able to ask me where the plastic cups are even though they have been in the same place for years? Oh my, I hope not....I have been really looking forward to that nature walk!!
Let's Go Devils....
Happy Monday
ps for the record...none of what you have just read has any hidden sarcastic tone...I am all about the positive now...how did I do? ;)
I have been the subject of an intervention. It has been brought to my attention by the lucky guy who has to live with me that,perhaps, I tend to be a bit negative. I am not sure where he gets this idea from, but he has given me a challenge. Can I, Banji Dawn(yes, Dawn) Latkin-Ganchrow, be positive for one week. Not in real day-to-day life, but in my blogging life. Can all of my observations about anything be positive....I have accepted this challenge,appreciated the intervention and will try my best. Fortunately, there was no betting involved, so, for me, it is a win-win situation if I do not meet his expectations. But for him...well, I apologize in advance. It could be worse....you could've married someone else and never would have known the joy of being married to someone moody...and what a joy it is! (see-I said JOY-positive word!!)
Let us begin.....
I am so happy that the superbowl is over. The Saints won, so hopefully Reggie Bush and Kim Kardashian, two really close friends of the Ganchrow family, might actually get married. Keeping my fingers crossed-those crazy kids have been together for years and we are so happy for them. But the real reason why I am happy about the superbowl being over is that it culminates weeks and weeks of being ignored on Sundays. There is nothing more upsetting then when you entire family leaves you alone for up to five hours to be left to your own devices. Your only responsibility- leaving them dinner on the table when the game is over...
I can't wait to have family sundays again-ahh, gathering around the fireplace to discuss plans-what should we do? another art museum? perhaps a nature walk through historic downtown newark? a culinary tour of the lower east side? disney on ice? the possibilities are endless. I am so fortunate to be a part of a family that loves to do things like that together. And now that the football season is over-we will have that chance. The group hugs...the high fives....the big, warm smiles of my boys while we watch Mickey Mouse sail across the ice, wearing those adorable Mickey ears....good times, good times.
Hold it...I am so positive that hockey season is still in full swing....are those games on Sunday? will we have to postpone all of those wonderful family trips? Oh no, will I have to retreat back down to the bunker so no one knows that I am home and aren't able to ask me where the plastic cups are even though they have been in the same place for years? Oh my, I hope not....I have been really looking forward to that nature walk!!
Let's Go Devils....
Happy Monday
ps for the record...none of what you have just read has any hidden sarcastic tone...I am all about the positive now...how did I do? ;)
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday nights...then and now....
The year was 1986...the music was great, the clothes were soo totally way cool-my ton-sur-ton leggings and matching oversized sweatshirt. OMG I was so awesome. White leather cowboy boots and a perfume called Poison-not so sure on the name. But I could pick the smell out of a line up. Sweet 16's....laser shows at the Planaterium (laser floyd-anyone? anyone?) Boys wearing polo cologne (ahhh...)and argyle sweaters-no hoodies or baggie jeans. John Hughes movies-they made me cry when I first saw them and now they make me laugh when I realize how all-to-true some of those messages were. All week was a build up to Saturday night. Would nap for hours on Saturday to regain precious energy lost during a week of high school. Where are you going? what are you doing? who is going out with who? Even an NCSY event was ok back in the 80's (hard to believe, but true...) Lots of build up....sometimes a let down and sometimes simply perfect.
Fast forward to now.....Do I really need to get dressed tonight? I am so tired...why can't we just stay in? there must be something on ESPN classic we can watch!! (nothing like a 30 year old yankee game to really make the night special..)Do we need to go to that party? We don't even like those people (for the record, Ari probably does and I probably don't...) Or, the other scenario "How come no one ever calls us to go out? " (Well, Banji, probably because you don't like anyone and they know it :) )
So last night was a big night out for us. We had, not 1, but TWO, count them T W O, hockey games. I looked forward to that all week. One was at 7:30 and one was at 9:30. What did we do in the precious hour in between? Dinner? A movie? Some romantic gazing into eachothers eyes? nope...carpool. Being almost middle aged in the suburbs..nothing like it.
The games were actually fun. Matthew scored two goals (have any of you seen Miracle on Ice?) and his friend scored one. (they lost, but not important.) Then Jack and Jonah's team won...with Jack in goal-skinniest goalie in Bergen County and always smiling. So everyone ended up in a good mood (yes, even me)
So Saturday nights might not have the magic that they once did, but I guess it is a different kind of magic. But what scares me is that before I know it...will my boys be wearing the polo cologne?
oy vey.
Happy Sunday...happy superbowl. Go Vikings! (I know..they aren't playing....)
The year was 1986...the music was great, the clothes were soo totally way cool-my ton-sur-ton leggings and matching oversized sweatshirt. OMG I was so awesome. White leather cowboy boots and a perfume called Poison-not so sure on the name. But I could pick the smell out of a line up. Sweet 16's....laser shows at the Planaterium (laser floyd-anyone? anyone?) Boys wearing polo cologne (ahhh...)and argyle sweaters-no hoodies or baggie jeans. John Hughes movies-they made me cry when I first saw them and now they make me laugh when I realize how all-to-true some of those messages were. All week was a build up to Saturday night. Would nap for hours on Saturday to regain precious energy lost during a week of high school. Where are you going? what are you doing? who is going out with who? Even an NCSY event was ok back in the 80's (hard to believe, but true...) Lots of build up....sometimes a let down and sometimes simply perfect.
Fast forward to now.....Do I really need to get dressed tonight? I am so tired...why can't we just stay in? there must be something on ESPN classic we can watch!! (nothing like a 30 year old yankee game to really make the night special..)Do we need to go to that party? We don't even like those people (for the record, Ari probably does and I probably don't...) Or, the other scenario "How come no one ever calls us to go out? " (Well, Banji, probably because you don't like anyone and they know it :) )
So last night was a big night out for us. We had, not 1, but TWO, count them T W O, hockey games. I looked forward to that all week. One was at 7:30 and one was at 9:30. What did we do in the precious hour in between? Dinner? A movie? Some romantic gazing into eachothers eyes? nope...carpool. Being almost middle aged in the suburbs..nothing like it.
The games were actually fun. Matthew scored two goals (have any of you seen Miracle on Ice?) and his friend scored one. (they lost, but not important.) Then Jack and Jonah's team won...with Jack in goal-skinniest goalie in Bergen County and always smiling. So everyone ended up in a good mood (yes, even me)
So Saturday nights might not have the magic that they once did, but I guess it is a different kind of magic. But what scares me is that before I know it...will my boys be wearing the polo cologne?
oy vey.
Happy Sunday...happy superbowl. Go Vikings! (I know..they aren't playing....)
Friday, February 5, 2010
friday, feb 5, 2010
mortality-this probably won't be the funniest blog I have written......
One of the secretary's from my kids school passed away last night. I don't think she was much older than in her 50's and she was only diagnosed in November. My boys were trying to grasp the concept on the way to the bus this morning. And they were asking me questions.
Now, I will be honest, I usually have the answers to all of their questions...but when it comes to death and mortality, I am stuck. When I think about it, I get the same panicked feeling that I used to get when I was little and would think about dying. "Everybody dies," my dad would say. Then you think about what is the whole point of living..be a better person....be kind to animals..save the environment...will the healthcare bill pass...blah blah blah.
Years ago, I read a novel about an older man who every time he would go into a restaraunt, he would try to throw some things on the floor so people knew he existed. That is how I feel sometimes....how will anyone know that I was ever here 100 years from now? Will it only be because some chubby girl has been handed down my "unique" first name? Wait..sorry about that, I only have boys..no one is naming anyone after me (name her after your mother-what are you crazy? ) How will anyone know about any of us....sorry-too depressing.
Death.....I joke about what I will do when I, god forbid, I find out I am dying. 1. Take my family on a cruise. 2. Tell an exclusive list of people exactly how I feel about them and then reveal all of their secrets. 3. Try to get on Oprah. 4. Drive my car while talking on my cell phone, eating a cinnabon and washing my hair. You know, the important things in life. But people die whether we want them to or not. And all we can do while we are alive is leave a lasting impression upon the people we touch-whether it be good, bad or otherwise. Think about the people in your lives whom you have lost, you remember the way their hands felt, or their smell-I still get teary when I smell shower-to shower body powder, because that is how my grandmother's apartment smelled...
Everybody dies. A depressing truth in life. So hug the ones you love, give dirty looks to the ones you don't, remember the one's that aren't here anymore and just keep on living....
Happy Friday.....good luck with the snow-4-6 inches?4-6 feet? who cares! the kids will still have school on Monday :)
One of the secretary's from my kids school passed away last night. I don't think she was much older than in her 50's and she was only diagnosed in November. My boys were trying to grasp the concept on the way to the bus this morning. And they were asking me questions.
Now, I will be honest, I usually have the answers to all of their questions...but when it comes to death and mortality, I am stuck. When I think about it, I get the same panicked feeling that I used to get when I was little and would think about dying. "Everybody dies," my dad would say. Then you think about what is the whole point of living..be a better person....be kind to animals..save the environment...will the healthcare bill pass...blah blah blah.
Years ago, I read a novel about an older man who every time he would go into a restaraunt, he would try to throw some things on the floor so people knew he existed. That is how I feel sometimes....how will anyone know that I was ever here 100 years from now? Will it only be because some chubby girl has been handed down my "unique" first name? Wait..sorry about that, I only have boys..no one is naming anyone after me (name her after your mother-what are you crazy? ) How will anyone know about any of us....sorry-too depressing.
Death.....I joke about what I will do when I, god forbid, I find out I am dying. 1. Take my family on a cruise. 2. Tell an exclusive list of people exactly how I feel about them and then reveal all of their secrets. 3. Try to get on Oprah. 4. Drive my car while talking on my cell phone, eating a cinnabon and washing my hair. You know, the important things in life. But people die whether we want them to or not. And all we can do while we are alive is leave a lasting impression upon the people we touch-whether it be good, bad or otherwise. Think about the people in your lives whom you have lost, you remember the way their hands felt, or their smell-I still get teary when I smell shower-to shower body powder, because that is how my grandmother's apartment smelled...
Everybody dies. A depressing truth in life. So hug the ones you love, give dirty looks to the ones you don't, remember the one's that aren't here anymore and just keep on living....
Happy Friday.....good luck with the snow-4-6 inches?4-6 feet? who cares! the kids will still have school on Monday :)
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Thursday February 4,2010
genius idea
While sitting in the van this morning, warming it up for my boys so they don't get a chill while they are waiting for the bus which is only a block away but I still need to take them to the corner because heaven forbid they should walk....I was listening to the radio. The dj's were saying that Ashton Kutscher, of all people, came up with a theory- that all year long we should be warm and friendly to those around us, romantic and caring to our significant others and then on Valentine's day, we should be haters...we should tell the people we don't like what we really think of them-just get it all out there. Cleanse our souls with the truth. (words to live by....)
I really enjoyed this theory-not that I keep anything in all year long and only need 1 day to let it all hang out but, it is a good theory. Now..Valentines day. We don't celebrate it. Why? Ari said something about it being pagan, but, it's because he just doesn't want to buy me anything. I think that he is wrong. Most spouses are not romantic all year long. No love notes, no little trinkets, no grand gestures. Walk ahead of us..no hand holding..blah blah blah.. So here is one day ONE FREAKIN DAY...that is it-24 hours of being romantic. That is all that is required of valentines day. All year you ignore us and here, a gift is being given to you - only 1 day where you have to pay attention to us and treat us like you did before we got married and into the rut of day to day life. And you know what, if you don't like the idea of valentines day, pick another day dammit-we don't care what day...it could be in August for all we care....just pick one day that you worship us again....
In 1980, my sister decided that we weren't going to celebrate Valentines day any more...we were going to celebrate Latkins Lovers Day and it was going to be every year on the sunday before valentines day. So Sunday, February 10, 1980 came...she made everyone breakfast with heart shaped menus...she even bought me a teddy bear...but then my grandfather died, and that was the end of latkins lovers day...the only time we celebrated it....maybe it was a sign.....
But anyway, back to Ashton.....I think it would be really nice for us to all be warm and cozy all year and mean and honest for 1 day....but I firmly believe that any man can withstand the torture of only being romantic for a day...one single day.....and as for myself, it just isn't healthy to hold in your feelings all year long!!!!!!
Let em out, free youself and say halleluya!!!!!
Happy Thursday
While sitting in the van this morning, warming it up for my boys so they don't get a chill while they are waiting for the bus which is only a block away but I still need to take them to the corner because heaven forbid they should walk....I was listening to the radio. The dj's were saying that Ashton Kutscher, of all people, came up with a theory- that all year long we should be warm and friendly to those around us, romantic and caring to our significant others and then on Valentine's day, we should be haters...we should tell the people we don't like what we really think of them-just get it all out there. Cleanse our souls with the truth. (words to live by....)
I really enjoyed this theory-not that I keep anything in all year long and only need 1 day to let it all hang out but, it is a good theory. Now..Valentines day. We don't celebrate it. Why? Ari said something about it being pagan, but, it's because he just doesn't want to buy me anything. I think that he is wrong. Most spouses are not romantic all year long. No love notes, no little trinkets, no grand gestures. Walk ahead of us..no hand holding..blah blah blah.. So here is one day ONE FREAKIN DAY...that is it-24 hours of being romantic. That is all that is required of valentines day. All year you ignore us and here, a gift is being given to you - only 1 day where you have to pay attention to us and treat us like you did before we got married and into the rut of day to day life. And you know what, if you don't like the idea of valentines day, pick another day dammit-we don't care what day...it could be in August for all we care....just pick one day that you worship us again....
In 1980, my sister decided that we weren't going to celebrate Valentines day any more...we were going to celebrate Latkins Lovers Day and it was going to be every year on the sunday before valentines day. So Sunday, February 10, 1980 came...she made everyone breakfast with heart shaped menus...she even bought me a teddy bear...but then my grandfather died, and that was the end of latkins lovers day...the only time we celebrated it....maybe it was a sign.....
But anyway, back to Ashton.....I think it would be really nice for us to all be warm and cozy all year and mean and honest for 1 day....but I firmly believe that any man can withstand the torture of only being romantic for a day...one single day.....and as for myself, it just isn't healthy to hold in your feelings all year long!!!!!!
Let em out, free youself and say halleluya!!!!!
Happy Thursday
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
tues feb 2, 2010 9 months less 1 day til the big 4-0
fatmom and skinnyson cross the finish line part deaux
I am happy to report that I feel much better today than I did yesterday. Unfortunately, this means I will not be able to take any painkillers, but what can you do.
So the reason we were in Miami was not to stalk football players, but to participate in the chai lifeline half marathon. 13.1 miles. My training with Jack consisted of us walking to Fair Lawn over simchat torah (no, it didn't take the whole holiday, only 2 hours)and then two weeks ago, when my dad was in the hospital, we walked 3.5 miles in 1 hour(not my dad, he was in bed...)So I was pretty confident that I was being a horrible mother, did not adequately prepare my son and was going to end up having my children taken away from me. (no such luck-just kidding!)
Jack and I were pretty antisocial for most of the weekend. We didn't go to any of the speeches Friday night..we went to sleep (priorities). Saturday night there was a pre-race pasta party, thought Jack would for sure find something to eat there, but the plain pasta had miniscule and i mean really really miniscule-not even visible to the human eye miniscule, bits of garlic. THE INHUMANITY....so we couldn't stay for the program because we had to get to baskin robbins to get the poor kid a milkshake. (as a result, we missed the announcement that lunch the next day was changed to 1, we came at 2:30 thinking we were being fashionably late, and wondered why there were no cookies left. Well, I wondered why there were no cookies, Jack didn't really care.)
But with all of my cynicism (who me?) when we came down the elevator at 4:20 am to get on the bus for the marathon, and saw a lobby full of people in matching team lifeline race shirts, I did get a little teary. Not only was it people who were blessed with the gift of good health, but kids who were not so fortunate, who were going to participate in the marathon being pushed in their wheelchairs. It was really really inspiring. The team cumulatively raised over a million dollars...and the money is really put to good use.(Keep in mind if i didn't ask you for money this year, we will get to you next year :) That means you, Mr.Austein.....)
So we get to the marathon at 5 am...thousands of people, everyone is pumped up...even Jack was excited...we look at our bibs to see we are in corral L....apparently L is for lazy because it was the last corral...so we snuck into corral K-thank god we weren't caught or it would have been embarrassing....long story short...we finished-we rocked it. We thought it would take us 4 hours, but it only took Jack 3 hours and 20 minutes, and me 3 hours and 24 minutes. Why did it take me longer? Well, my son, my first born, the light of my life, decided that after 12 miles of me making him laugh and taking his mind off of how long the walk was...making sure he had water....giving him the strength to continue by chanting the words of our esteemed president who we didnt vote for "yes we can"....the kid left me to run ahead. Nice, real nice...visions of us crossing the finish line together vanished into thin air like a puff of smoke...didn't think I smelled that bad...I did get over it. I was so proud of that kid. Still don't know how those skinny legs held him up :)
What a great experience....so happy we did it. So happy it is over.
Happy Tuesday....
I am happy to report that I feel much better today than I did yesterday. Unfortunately, this means I will not be able to take any painkillers, but what can you do.
So the reason we were in Miami was not to stalk football players, but to participate in the chai lifeline half marathon. 13.1 miles. My training with Jack consisted of us walking to Fair Lawn over simchat torah (no, it didn't take the whole holiday, only 2 hours)and then two weeks ago, when my dad was in the hospital, we walked 3.5 miles in 1 hour(not my dad, he was in bed...)So I was pretty confident that I was being a horrible mother, did not adequately prepare my son and was going to end up having my children taken away from me. (no such luck-just kidding!)
Jack and I were pretty antisocial for most of the weekend. We didn't go to any of the speeches Friday night..we went to sleep (priorities). Saturday night there was a pre-race pasta party, thought Jack would for sure find something to eat there, but the plain pasta had miniscule and i mean really really miniscule-not even visible to the human eye miniscule, bits of garlic. THE INHUMANITY....so we couldn't stay for the program because we had to get to baskin robbins to get the poor kid a milkshake. (as a result, we missed the announcement that lunch the next day was changed to 1, we came at 2:30 thinking we were being fashionably late, and wondered why there were no cookies left. Well, I wondered why there were no cookies, Jack didn't really care.)
But with all of my cynicism (who me?) when we came down the elevator at 4:20 am to get on the bus for the marathon, and saw a lobby full of people in matching team lifeline race shirts, I did get a little teary. Not only was it people who were blessed with the gift of good health, but kids who were not so fortunate, who were going to participate in the marathon being pushed in their wheelchairs. It was really really inspiring. The team cumulatively raised over a million dollars...and the money is really put to good use.(Keep in mind if i didn't ask you for money this year, we will get to you next year :) That means you, Mr.Austein.....)
So we get to the marathon at 5 am...thousands of people, everyone is pumped up...even Jack was excited...we look at our bibs to see we are in corral L....apparently L is for lazy because it was the last corral...so we snuck into corral K-thank god we weren't caught or it would have been embarrassing....long story short...we finished-we rocked it. We thought it would take us 4 hours, but it only took Jack 3 hours and 20 minutes, and me 3 hours and 24 minutes. Why did it take me longer? Well, my son, my first born, the light of my life, decided that after 12 miles of me making him laugh and taking his mind off of how long the walk was...making sure he had water....giving him the strength to continue by chanting the words of our esteemed president who we didnt vote for "yes we can"....the kid left me to run ahead. Nice, real nice...visions of us crossing the finish line together vanished into thin air like a puff of smoke...didn't think I smelled that bad...I did get over it. I was so proud of that kid. Still don't know how those skinny legs held him up :)
What a great experience....so happy we did it. So happy it is over.
Happy Tuesday....
Monday, February 1, 2010
Monday, February 1,2010
fat mom and skinny son cross the finish line part one
where oh where do I begin? Jack and I had an amazing weekend. It was truly quality mother and son bonding.
I was soo excited because we had heard that a bunch of football players were staying next door at the fountainbleau for the probowl(to be read with sarcasm.) So Jack and I kept going back and forth to the fountainbleau to try and see as many players as we could-that was SO MUCH FUN! Here's the problem with football players...they all wear helmets so it is not as easy to identify them as you would think...unless you go with the racist approach. (my son did not do this,he is way too timid, but a bunch of other kippah-clad youngsters were using this approach...follow along.)
Any tall, short, thin, fat, well dressed,gangsta clad black guy that walked into the hotel, was sitting in the lobby, was by the pool, was coming out of an elevator, or was just breathing was asked, by these kids "are you a football player?" ouch. I hated it. Isn't that racist? I asked a black bellhop what he thought, since the whole thing really bothered me and he said "I would probably ask them the same thing..." That didn't help my cause. In the end, a bunch of the guys made up names to tell the kids, ie "Trey Thomas"apparently is NOT in the nfl...but we did meet some really hot guy named DeMarcus Ware (wear?where?) who was the leaders in sacks (sacs? sax?) who plays for the cowboys...Jack had a whole conversation with him about-I didn't really understand it because i don't like football-but they shook hands and high fived and thank GOD,Jack was finally happy that he met a player that he was 100percent sure was a player and not just a playa....truthfully, I was happy he was just looking at the players and not at the half naked women who were falling all over them (i was not one of them and frankly, that visual is scary and totally inappropriate...)
To read about the rest of the weekend...tune in tomorrow....I have laundry backlog to take care of!
Happy Monday....and let me just add I am SOOOO proud of Jack(and myself for that matter) that we finished the half marathon...but more about that tomorrow...if I can still walk to the computer....
where oh where do I begin? Jack and I had an amazing weekend. It was truly quality mother and son bonding.
I was soo excited because we had heard that a bunch of football players were staying next door at the fountainbleau for the probowl(to be read with sarcasm.) So Jack and I kept going back and forth to the fountainbleau to try and see as many players as we could-that was SO MUCH FUN! Here's the problem with football players...they all wear helmets so it is not as easy to identify them as you would think...unless you go with the racist approach. (my son did not do this,he is way too timid, but a bunch of other kippah-clad youngsters were using this approach...follow along.)
Any tall, short, thin, fat, well dressed,gangsta clad black guy that walked into the hotel, was sitting in the lobby, was by the pool, was coming out of an elevator, or was just breathing was asked, by these kids "are you a football player?" ouch. I hated it. Isn't that racist? I asked a black bellhop what he thought, since the whole thing really bothered me and he said "I would probably ask them the same thing..." That didn't help my cause. In the end, a bunch of the guys made up names to tell the kids, ie "Trey Thomas"apparently is NOT in the nfl...but we did meet some really hot guy named DeMarcus Ware (wear?where?) who was the leaders in sacks (sacs? sax?) who plays for the cowboys...Jack had a whole conversation with him about-I didn't really understand it because i don't like football-but they shook hands and high fived and thank GOD,Jack was finally happy that he met a player that he was 100percent sure was a player and not just a playa....truthfully, I was happy he was just looking at the players and not at the half naked women who were falling all over them (i was not one of them and frankly, that visual is scary and totally inappropriate...)
To read about the rest of the weekend...tune in tomorrow....I have laundry backlog to take care of!
Happy Monday....and let me just add I am SOOOO proud of Jack(and myself for that matter) that we finished the half marathon...but more about that tomorrow...if I can still walk to the computer....
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