My son is a pathological liar or hopefully he might be successful as a sick film-maker that manipulates people

Don't you hate when you watch a movie or series or whatever, and they leave some shreds or crumbs that you immediately pick up on; you think it will lead to some sexy dénouement but they totally pull the plug out from under you?  For example, in the Queen's Gambit, there is a scene where the agent tells Beth to watch out for signs that Borgov might be sending (implying perhaps that he might defect).  Well now, that's pretty exciting, to stir the flames that a controversial political statement might be made through the series at some surprise point, so like a hungry beggar, we watch every scene waiting for this delicious dénouement. But of course nothing happens, they left these crumbs to be a total jerk, I felt dissatisfied and manipulated!

Now, this afternoon, as I was driving Dirk to climbing, he mentions that he wants to be home schooled.  Most moms would ignore such a ridiculous comment and chalk it up to random teenage drivel, but I'm not like most people.  Oh, I say with some encouragement.  If you can prove to me this summer that you are self-motivated and learn better in a home environment, I will absolutely pull you out of 8th grade and allow you to be homeschooled.  Confronted by this unintentional threat, Dirk admits he actually doesn't want to be homeschool.  

WTF, Dirk, are you in bed with the writers of Queen's Gambit, leaving a crumb that you know never leads to anywhere?  I hope you succeed as a sick film-maker, but it's more likely you fit the profile of those idiotic chain e-mail writers.

Facebook version

Suprisingly, after reading my latest blog entry, J was disappointed that I wasn't more glowing about how his awesomeness. I guess he's used to Facebook where it's full of people are posting things like being proud of their kids (feel so lucky to be mom to....), being more in love than ever with their spouse and other untruths. If anything is fake news, I think it's Facebook posts.

Nevertheless, ask and you shall receive, J.

Let me rewrite this moment in time.....
J - He is incredibly tanned and muscular. Every major and minor muscle is super hard and defined. He is always working miracles around the house without his shirt on. We have to do our best to not drool or pinch his incredibly well-defined gluteus maximus as he is always teasing us by wearing tattered but revealing clothes that his growing muscles have ripped off.

In actuality, he is often seen in this ridiculous teddy bear pajamas that I bought for only $6. He has to wear a hat indoors all the time because we don’t heat our house adequately.

This moment in time

S - She's 12 and still very interested in candy. She's become a semi-vegetarian and the pickiest eater. She's studying for her bat mitzvah. She wants to and has watched shows that I think are inappropriate like Pretty Little Liars and Stranger Things. She's basically becoming a teenager. Always on her phone and plotting to get more slime. She goes around the house playing and poking with the smelly stuff and doing unhygenic things like microwaving it and wetting it repeatedly. Just yesterday, she hurt her eye by dripping some of the run off slime water. Still, she pesters both of us, mostly J for more of it and has cried that it is all the meaning that her life has. She is also interested in clothes that are "not babyish", basically trendy and sort of revealing. Recently we caved and let her buy a sweater with cutouts in the shoulders.
D - She's 10 and cranky and stubborn all the time. As soon as she gets home from school, she goes into her room, sometimes slamming the door. Recently J has been able to get her do some challenge math problems with him. She is a voracious reader, her favorite genre is fantasy. We had an argument last night about who was a better author, Rick Riordian or JK Rowling. I pointed to some facts about the appeal of each author and how many books each has sold, but she is convinced that RR is vastly superior due to the unpredictable plots. She said Harry Potter was so predictable and gave an example from a RR book that she's reading - the main character dies in the beginning! How's that for unpredictability? I asked her how could that be possible because if the main character dies off what does the author write about. She triumphantly replies, his afterlife! She has a job! Last year, she enrolled in a chess class and developed a rapport with the teacher. So now she helps him teach the beginner class once a week for a whole $5!
D - Almost 8, the age that Frank forboded when your children stop giving you pleasure. He still comes into our bed at night and likes to hold hands. He doesn't have confidence in reading and I'm sad that he doesn't enjoy the activity that was a big part of my childhood and the girls'. He is a great little helper. Whether it's cooking, cleaning or fixing things around the house, you can always count on him to want to help. He is also prone to fits of violence. He is very sensitive to insults. He doesn't generally start the fights but if you make him feel lesser in any way, he will go insane. He isn't involved in any activities right now, except for Hebrew school. In the past, he had been on the swim team, gymnastics and chess. Right now, all he wants to do is go on electronics. I think addiction to electronics is a national crisis for kids and adults.
J- J has been in his job for a few years and the schedule that he has is unbelieveable. He doesn't have to go in super early or stay super late so we get to spend a lot of family time together. In July, he can practically take the whole month off! His hobbies are still ordering random things from the internet, fixing things and baking bread. He is competitive about the bread making. The children say that Frank's bread tastes better and this might actually bother him a little. Although logically, it doesn't make too much sense since Frank puts so much more time and energy into it than J. But I guess he is used to being superior regardless of effort.
Me - I am still stay at home. I'm still make too large quantities of food. In the past few months I've been able to stick to a regular workout stchedule of 4-5 days a week. Swimming and a form of circuit training that I invented where you go to the next muscle group with no rest in between. This way, you can maximize your workout time. But the biggest news here is that I've given up shopping. After a few decades of accumulating, I've come to realize that I have enough stuff for too many lifetimes. Since it used to take up so much of my time and give me so much pleasure, I have to look for another hobby...one of the reasons, I'm trying out going back to blogging.

My son is disgusting

"Mom! Dad!" S yells excitedly at us as we are waiting for the Costco employee to process all of our returns.
"What?" I reply wearily.
"Dylan found a piece of gum on the floor and is eating it!" she reports.
"DYLAN!" yells Josh, "Did you find a piece of gum and are you eating it?"
"No," he replies with the utmost gumption in his proclamation of innocence. He is chewing with his mouth open and clearly, he IS chewing gum.
"You didn't?" confirmed J.
"No," Dylan insists and assures his father of his innocence. All of this is happening in less than 5 seconds, but it feels like an eternity to me because I can almost feel the germs in my own mouth. I was really shocked by what I felt was a delay in the appropriate response. I started thinking that J was going to let this horrid act slide or that he was fooled by D's outrageous lying, but thankfully, he gave D a what-fo and told him how disgusting he thought it was. And of course, he made D spit out his found treasured booty.

Welcome back, Me, after a long blogging hiatus. The reason for starting up again is to "butter" (more about that later) my father in law all up.

You see, he'd rather read my blogs than interact with me. At least he had admitted to that in person in the past.

Anyhoo, because my mother has gone and moved in with my sister, I'm in need of intermittent childcare and occasional chauffeur. My father in law will be fitting this bill.

To get ready for his arrival, my husband and I are going into a nervous fit of frenzy making arrangements for his arrival. We are "afraid" that he could fly off the handle or get into a fit because something isn't just so or is just so, who knows? So we have major plans to clean the garage, basement and the room that he is staying in. And ultimately, maybe none of this would matter if he was in a good mood, but you never know. This way when he does have a fit, at least we can say, "Well, we tried."

This morning, my husband forgot to put the Smart Balance away so it was sitting on the countertop when I came downstairs and into the kitchen. I looked at the nutrition information, 90 mg of sodium per serving. I was satisfied, knowing that a tiny amount was going to add a lot of flavor. So I buttered up some toast for my kids. Then something on the package caught my eye, "Tastes like real butter". Now that set off some alarm bells in my head. It must be full of fake stuff and chemicals, I surmised, as it's trying to imitate something "real".

I scanned the ingredients and came up with diglycerides and a preservative or two. I wasn't sure what diglycerides are and it also reminded me of mono-diglycerides, which I see all the time in junky baked goods. So I did a little Google search. Basically that stuff is trans fat. It doesn't need to be labeled as such per the FDA (only triglycerides need to be called out as "trans fat"), since mono and diglycerides are classified as "emulsifiers". I don't know what kind of disgusting woo-ha this is but it allows manufacturers to use trans fat without labeling it. Another terrible thing is that a lot of mono and diglycerides are derived from animal sources. The redeeming factor in this area for Smart Balance is that it's made from "vegetable" diglycerides. But that only means that you are eating hydrogenated palm or other oils.

I hope that my in-laws stop using such a pernicious product. It will be very hard as they are both addicted (or maybe mostly my father in law). I don't have the guts to tell them to their face about this, so I will publish it on my blog.

And since this is the way my father in law prefers to interact with me, I'm hoping it will work.
So back to "buttering" him up - I hope that he will stop using Smart Balance and find this blog to be sufficiently satisfying. Best of all, it's real and is not trying to be something else.

School pictures

I can't make peace with the fact that I am compelled to purchase overpriced school portraits each year. I try to select the cheapest package possible, but it works out to about $30-40 each time. I do enjoy the portraits that my mom bought when I was in elementary school but that might be because so few of my childhood pictures exist. Or there's something about the expression/feeling that's somehow not captured anywhere else like a school portrait that really brings you back to the time it was taken. Even though I admit I like looking at the portraits of my children, I don't feel like I should be buying them.
That's because I can put myself in J's shoes...$35 compounded for 20 years....
(begin anguished wail) OH THE MONEY WAAAAAAASTED! (end of anguished wail)

S: Daddy, can you teach me how to make Challah, so I'll still be able to make it after you die?
D: Yes.
S: Will you die when my kids are grown?
D: Yes.
S: Daddy, please stop talking about dying ... it's scaring me.
D: OK.

 

Started kind of shallow ... but seemed to grow into recognition of something a little deeper.

New toy

I gave little D a new toy today. As I understand it, it's supposed to be some kind of a robot with different parts that fold into itself so that when all appendages are folded, it forms a ball. Then if you press a button or something, all the appendages come out and the form is quite different from a ball.

Little D was trying to get it to "come out" but couldn't figure it out. "Let big D try it," I told him. "She's good at...
"mysteries!" as she finished my sentence.

How does a starfish eat?

How does a starfish eat? A question I posed to D.
"They take out the stomach and then chew. When they're done chewing they put the stomach back in!" (In her signature booming voice).

The Amazing Human Body

We were looking at a medically inspired drawn picture of the human body and its various parts.
"What are those red grapes?!" D says in her loud booming voice. "Red blood cells," I answered.

"Look! That's my stomach," as she points to the small and large intestine. Then, she correctly identifies the heart. She is puzzled by the eye. I ask her to look carefully at the ear and she correctly identifies it as such.

Here are more amusing labels she made and what they are in actuality.

Pizza (plasma)
A piece of pie (cross section of the skin)
Big worm (spine)
Necklace (I'm not sure)
Blueberries (Gall stones?!)
Avocados (I don't know)

First day of school for the big D

She seemed happy when she got off the bus. But when I asked her how her day went, she frowned. I tried all sorts of questioning. Finally, a dismal proclamation, "There were none toys to play with" and then another equally depressing declaration, "I sat in my chair all day". Poor D. Kindergarten is an adjustment from preschool.

I still love him

I often physically and mentally struggle with my 21 month old son who doesn't always like getting buckled into his carseat. Usually I'm short on time and not in a good mood, so that helps to exacerbates the situation (especially for me). This morning was no different.

So, I'm in a rush and probably foul mood as I carry him into the car and try to place him gingerly into the carseat. His body goes stiff and he immediately wriggles out of the seat. D always has other ideas. Dammit I'm thinking. Car keys? I say desperately as I jangle them in his face. Sometimes this enticement works really well but this time, he ignores me. I offer him another trinket but again he ignores me.

His mind is wrapped around something else. Like a hungry raptor with determination and precision, he reaches down and across for a shrink wrapped goody that I made Dazee leave behind earlier today. With that treasure in hand, he is completely pacified and oblivious to me. Now, I have reflexes like a predator as I quickly take the opportunity to put him into the car seat and buckle him up.

Only seconds before, he had fought me out of the seat for dear life, but now he is too busy pawing his booty like a depraved animal. "OPENITANDRIPIT," he commands me in one quick breath. "Rip it!" he repeats like a mantra.

I was so shocked by his first statement - 5 words I counted. I couldn't believe my ears. A month or so ago, this boy-genius only knew two words - "No" and "mama" (not for me but a word he used indiscriminately for anything he wanted).

It is funny to me when D behaves aggressively because his voice is so soft, like a kitten.

Recently I've been trying to re-teach him to say Thank you in a voice that can be heard. He had been saying it but stopped all of a sudden. He replaced it with "You're welcomed." I guess that always followed when he said "Thank you" that he decided saying "Thank you" was totally unnecessary.

"Say thank you, D" I would ask. "You're welcomed," he'd say.

After I successfully got him to eliminate the extinction of "Thank you", I decided to conquer the other skill with him. Saying it in a loud, audible, big, voice like Dazee.

"Say THANK YOU LOUD" I coached him.
"Thank you LOUD", he'd say.
Later that day, I asked him again, "Say THANK YOU LOOUUUD!"
He replied, "LOOUUUUUD!!!!"

Poor D is always in the car with me because I shuttle his two sisters to so many activities during the week. What's a 21 month old to do except find trouble and amusement even if he's bound and shackled? So when S left for Hebrew school, she threw her book into the car. As I drive off, I hear a crinkling of paper noise. "Noooooo!" I shriek, as I realize while driving that my son is probably tearing the book to shreds. "It's S's new book! Please give it to me." Of course he doesn't. And being that my patience is low, I try to snatch it from him. But that never works. Somehow whenever I try to get into a physical struggle with D, I always lose. (It doesn't seem to be that way with J, but then again, I think he doesn't know about opening doors for women or stepping aside in the elevator to let them off first).

Of course, I need to find another distraction. Granola bar! I offer him one. I throw one to the back of the car and he is soooo happy. He throws S's book to the floor like a scorned piece of garbage. I do a modified yoga-like move to grab it off the floor and throw it in the front seat, away from his reach.

"Open it!" he commands me. I wait for a red light to peel off the top part of the wrapper for him. He breaks off the visible piece and holds it in his hand. "Open more!" he commands again. A true offspring of two hoarders, D will not eat something unless he has at least two pieces in hand.

I didn't want to give him more (because I'm guess I'm a hoarder too) but I go against my will and open up more of it. He's now holding two inch-and-a-half pieces in each hand.

I take away the rest of the bar, saving the still ensconced bar in its wrapper, maybe for myself. We could all use a sugar rush.

Well that must've set him off. He crumbled up his two big pieces into a million sticky pieces. He smeared some of it on himself, the car seat and dropped the rest with glee on the floor of the car.

It's all in the tone and teaching your 4 year old about idiomatic expressions

Upon leaving a birthday party, I ended up speaking with a woman walking her dog about children's birthday parties. She then told me she had three grown children - something like 18, 23 and 25.

She looked so young, I couldn't believe it. "Get out of here!" I exclaimed. We chit chat a little bit longer. After we said our goodbyes, I rolled up my window and started driving away.

S tells me in a soft and serious voice, Mom, telling someone to get out of here is not nice.

She automatically thought it was her sister

Picture this scene: S and D are standing next to each other on the ball field with their backs facing me. Another child, who was off the field, is running towards them. That child throws a ball and unfortunately it hits poor D from the back.
As soon as the ball strikes D, with the quick reflex of a predator in the jungle, or a sister who's been damned too many times, D makes a fist and hits S really hard. S starts crying and hits her sister back. This may have happened for a few rounds until someone broke them up.

The mom of the girl who had hit D with the ball starts apologizing profusely for being the cause of the hurt and the fight between the two girls, but I don't think it's necessary, plus I'm too busy laughing. I really wish I had it on tape.

For some reason it was really funny to me. The other parents probably thought I was mean to laugh and out of a dozen or so parents only I and this other guy (who admitted that it wouldn't be funny if it was his own children) found it funny.

Cheap date and cheap thrills

Tonight before S goes to bed, she told me it was the best day ever. Why? I asked.
She told me it was because she "got sparkly hearts and a candy can".

A candy can is a candy cane - For his own amusement, J does not correct them when they mispronounce words. Another one that he likes is when D says, "shop" for shot. Am I going to get a shop? she might ask.

Nice ending

I couldn't get the kids off the playground to go home today. After a few "five minute warnings", I started to get a little frustrated. It was already 6PM and they were still in the sandbox making "cookies". All the other families had already left. I felt like an irresponsible parent (although a level below the people who smoke pot with their kids), in allowing my preschool children to play so late.
S is focused on playing with a huge bucket, I tell her two scoops and then let's go. No, she bargains. More. I want to fill up the bucket and dump it out.
I agree to let her do it but I start scooping like a mad woman to help her fill it up. We filled it to the top and she dumps out the sand which makes a little mountain. She and D start to stomp in it. At this rate we'll never get home so I threaten to leave and start to walk away.
Finally, they leave the sandbox, we head out towards the gate....but they get sidetracked by the plentiful fallen white azaleas. Two flowers for each girl and then we go, I bark.
I unlock the gate and D runs out like a locked up criminal, heading straight into the parking lot. "FREEZE!" I yell at her. I'm so afraid she's going to get hit by a car. Let's hold hands, I suggest. S and D don't like this idea. I modify it a little and asked them to hold each other's hands while I hold one of them. For some unknown reason, this is agreeable to both of them. So we go on our way to the car. While we're walking, I'm nervously scanning for any moving vehicles.
When they are finally in the car, predictably, we had other "struggles" and mishaps.
Preempted by a four year old - First S takes off her shoes and dumps literally a liter of sand from her shoe into her car seat just as I said, Can you please give me your shoes so I can empty the sand outside the car?
A 3 yr old driver? Just what I need - D crawls into the front of the car and starts playing with the steering wheel. Seeing her there made me think of her as a teenager driving and that made me anxious. S interrupts my free floating anxious mind with a request, Can you get my ____ (I didn't quite catch what she said) for me? I bend down and strain to reach under the passenger seat to pluck out something that looks like garbage to me. It turns out to be a drawing she had made a time long ago.
As soon as it's in her hands, she starts with the complaining. It's not straight! she screams with consternation. She looks like she's going to cry. I have no idea what she's talking about. I finally figure it out and I tell her that we can get rid of the jagged edges by cutting it. Nooooo! Don't cut it! she whines fearfully as if I suggested cutting a body part. She goes back to being a broken record by repeatedly asking, Why isn't it straight? None of my explanations or solutions satisfied her. I pray that she forgets about it and move on but of course that won't happen. When she's focused on something, she can amazingly retain it with unrelenting zeal.
Meanwhile, D is still in the front seat, doing what she does best, trying to break things. This time it's the steering wheel. Because the car is parked, it's locked, but I'm confident that if I had given her enough time, she'd definitely unlock it, despite what the manufacturer may claim when a car is in the "Park" gear. I can see her saying to me, I broke it Mom, with the gleeful satisfaction after a job well done. My mind starts to drift into a daydream that we will get a nice new car if she breaks this one.
Back to reality, we have to go home! One of my children is in the driver's seat! So I bribed her to go into the car seat with some trinket.
Finally both kids are buckled in their car seats and we're headed home.
Unfortunately for me, I feel a bad mood coming on and just before it actually descends on me with full force, I get a break of light...D starts singing this ridiculous silly and funny song that made me laugh out loud.
She belted this out. It was funny, loud, obnoxious, flat and un-melodic:
WAH-TER MEL-YON, WAH-TER MEL-YON
DRIPPING DOWN MY ELBOW, DRIPPING DOWN MY ELBOW (I can actually picture this comically messy scene happening since she's such a slob with food).
SPIT OUT THE SEED, PFFFFFFFT, SPIT OUT THE SEED, PFFFFFFFT (as she bends her head to mime spitting).

They grow up too fast

Earlier today, D told me that she had a boo boo.
Where? I asked
Right heah, she answered, lifting her head up showing me her chin.
Do you want me to kiss it? I asked.
No, that doesn't work, she replied matter of fact-ly.

My hair is definitely too cool for me

I recently got my hair highlighted and regret the results. Although I've received a lot of compliments, I feel that it looks trashy and like I'm trying to be 18.

In any event, today I was a little disoriented driving around White Plains. I was driving on the right street, but I wasn't sure if I was heading in the right direction. I nervously scan the sidewalk for pedestrians to ask for some directions. I see a very young and unsavory looking character, the type that I wouldn't normally ask for directions. I figure why not, it's a simple question that he'd probably know the answer to and it's not nice to prejudge who might know the answer to my question. He did know the answer and pointed me towards the right way. As I drove off, he yelled, YOU'RE HOT!!!

I feel so embarrassed. I could be this kid's mother. This is not the type of attention I want to generate.

This is why my cheap husband married me

Recently I vexed over the application for our temple membership. Mostly because I wasn't sure what to fill in for "Hebrew name" and the "Hebrew names" of my parents.
Finally, upon the advisement of my mother in law, I left it all blank.
Today I got a call from a temple official who inquired why I left it blank. Boy did I feel put on the spot. Then he went ahead and said, "Are you a Jewish person?" I practically felt like crying (for some reason). And I even considered lying. Anyway, very awkwardly and full of shame, I told him, Um no.
And he told me that I couldn't be a member of the temple, as per their constitution. He went on to console me about how Josh could be a member but not me but that didn't mean I wasn't welcomed to all events. Plus, we would even get mail in both our names, Mr and Mrs Josh Jupiter. I couldn't help it but feel a little left out of the club.
Finally he said that he would have to bill us at the single rate, not the family rate since only one of us (Josh) would be a member. The single rate happens to be a lot cheaper than the family rate.
After I got off the phone with him, I turned to my husband and asked him, Did you know about this? Is this why you married a shiksa? To save on your temple fees?

Keeping fingers crossed

Hope I'm not giving my daughter an eating complex. I promised her a pretzel that she waited patiently for. When I was ready to give it to her, she found a stray jelly bean on the countertop. She promptly popped it into her mouth and I told her I wasn't going to give her a pretzel since she was having the jelly bean.
She said, I can spit out the jelly bean, which she did.
Then she put it back into her mouth and started chewing again. Then she tried to pull out the green shreds.
Watching all this happening so quickly and her emotions made me so sad. I told her she could have both.
She didn't even believe it, "I can have both?" she repeated.
Yes, I told her. So she swallowed the shreds with glee and also got her pretzel.

Pff!

We had a nice family day at the Museum of Natural History today but as usual I have a number of gripes.

Mainly, everything is too expensive. I believe that a museum should be available for public enjoyment, this is not possible with the exorbitant entrance fees of the MNH. Also in the museum food court, there's a sign posted, "No outside food allowed". That made me think that food would be reasonably inexpensive, but actually it wasn't. It doesn't seem like a good society when it costs a family of 4 well over $100 to have a nice morning or afternoon at the museum.

Needless to say, we ignored that sign and ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in their food court. I even got into a tussle with some French people over seating. I was there first and wasn't going to let them take my seats. It also pissed me off that they probably thought the food was uber cheap. Sigh...I remember a vacation in Italy, before the conversion to the Euro, how wonderful it felt to feel as if everything was on discount. Fast forward a few years later, J and I take a few trips to European countries and we feel totally gypped by even the smallest of purchases. I refuse to go to Europe until the currency situation improves. Unfortunately for me, I've been waiting 4 years now.

Cute

"Look! She has an umbrella stick!" D says pointing to an elderly lady using a cane.

Date night: gluttony without guilt and boy are we cheap

I've been making a string of purchases recently that has left me feeling a little gluttonous and guilty.

However, last night, I was able to enjoy a lot of gluttony guilt-free.

A Fairway has opened in Westchester! Hurray!

Josh and I like to go to supermarkets together and work out the best deals so a new supermarket is like a date night.

Fairway did not disappoint. It was HUMONGOUS. They sold everything! Here are some happy acquisitions:

1. Unsalted, organic pistachios (I can't find these any where else) for $6 a lb.
2. 3 bagels for a dollar (my mom said they were sub-par and even the kids refused to eat them after toasting and a cream cheese lathering)
3. Lox for only $8 a lb!!!!!! (it was the "ends" pieces, they don't look so nice but they taste the same as their good looking counterparts).
4. Muir Glen Organic canned tomatoes for $1.20 a can.
5. Extra large eggs for $1.
6. Organic milk for $2.50 a half gallon. Conventional milk for $1.89 a gallon.
7. The nicest looking tilapia I've ever seen for $4 a lb.
8. Strawberries for $1.25 lb.
9. Green beans for $1 a lb

It goes on and on. One nice thing was that we didn't have to buy huge quantities of anything and there are no club cards or coupons to deal with. Then again, maybe my mother in law gets better deals, I wouldn't want to go head to head with her. I think sometimes they end up paying her to take stuff out of their stores.

Any way, as if this wasn't enough excitement, we also got $10 off $75 - It was a little nerve wracking trying to get to exactly $75, but we did it. $75.66 to be exact.

I don't remember the last time I was this excited with my husband. I can't wait to go back because we have another one of those $10 off $75 coupons.

My husband knows me

Josh left this cartoon on my desk for me:

I don't know if it's clear, but basically it's an old person on his deathbed saying, "I should have bought more crap." Hehehehehehee!

Sounds like a criminal to me

"How does a police officer help you?" a school project that my daughter worked on.

She replied, "They don't help me because I don't have any problems."

Life is complicated

The other day S was yelling Ouch! from the back of the car.
What's the matter? I asked.
She replied, My finger hurts. I don't want to touch it but I always touch it.

I think this is healthy - making myself useless.

Because I'm a fairly new parent of multiple children, I wasn't always confident about how to handle disagreements between my children. I would do what my parents used to do, which was get involved in the arguments and adjudicate as I saw fit.
And then I read something about how parents should minimize getting involved for a few reasons:
1. Better to let your children work it out so they can learn interpersonal skills and how to deal with each other in a positive way.
2. You could damage the family relationships because your children may see your decisions as unfair and it could appear that you favor one child over another.
3. There are two sides to every story and let's face it, it is tough to be objective.

All of this sounded reasonable to me but I was still unsure until a few events precipitated that made me realize that this really is the way to go. For example, once, I heard D crying and hurling insults at S. So I went over to tell D about how I'm going to put her in a timeout. A friend of mine happened to see the whole incident unfold and told me that I focused on the wrong child. S actually started destroying all of D's handiwork and it made D upset.

So what I do now, even when one of them comes to me to plea their case, is tell them to work it out amongst themselves. And any gripes they have should be directed towards the person and not to me. And I like to remind anyone who comes to me with an issue or gripe towards their sibling that it's not nice to be a tattle and that you need to confront the person who made you upset.

Come to think of it, I can remember when my parents got involved in a situation and the frustration and resentment that I felt when I thought it was patently unfair.

I like knowing that I don't need to solve my children's problems but teach them how to do it themselves. At the end of the day, if they don't need me, I've done my job well as a parent.

Harvard Reunion Social and Judaic humor

My husband invited me to come with him to his class reunion social in Manhattan the other day.
We were in an amazing apartment with serious views and priceless artwork.
It felt very stuffy.

But anyway, I ended up talking to someone who I'd known in the past about circumcision of all things. He just had a baby with his wife and he told me that he was relieved that it was a girl. He also said something that surprised both me and Josh - that he wouldn't have circumcized had it been a boy. His reasoning was novel - he felt that he and his wife were Jewish enough or rather so Jewish that they didn't need to adhere to customs that they felt were just pure insanity.

He had commented that Jewish guys who marry shiksas feel like they need to circumcize to validate the Jewishness. Food for thought. It made me think of two of my favorite Jew jokes -

One, that I could possibly be more Jewish than my husband since I married Jewish. Ha! I love that one.

Two - this is a joke I heard from Josh who heard it from his friend. A boy and his father are standing outside a synagogue during Rosh Hashana. A line of people have formed and the boy asks his father what they're doing. The father explains that they're Jews going to service. The boy is puzzled and tells his dad, But I thought we're Jews?
The dad clarifies, "Son, THEY are JEWS. We are Jew-ISH."

I have been finding myself in a lot of social situations where people ask me, Are you Jewish?
And I sometimes reply, "Yes, I'm Jew-ISH."

Still a little mad

I'd like to think that I'm not one of those sensitive and partially out of touch mothers who refuse or won't admit to any of their children's faults. In fact, I freely talk about my children's faults and will call a behavior like I see it - bitchy, whiny, slow, emotionally disturbed, lame or whatnot (not in front of them because I'm not into giving any of them a complex).

But there is one thing that someone has said about my son that I've taken umbrage with. It's been 7 weeks now, I didn't even hear the comment firsthand and I'm still a little upset over it.

My husband told me that as the mohel was about to perform the circumcision, he remarked as he pulled back the foreskin, "See there's schmutz in it already." Poor Dillon is just a baby, about to experience the greatest pain of his albeit heretofore short life. And he's so innocent. Does he deserve such a mean-spirited, narrow-minded and insensitive comment? We're about to circumcise the poor thing, the moment is already filled with a lot of nervousness and tension and for me, a little bit of fear, doubt and guilt. Did I need such a scornful and gratuitous sales pitch from the person who is the most in control of the situation?

It makes me think that there must be a special place either in heaven or hell for those whose job it is to inflict pain and perform elective surgery (as requested by parents) on baby boys penises day in and day out.

Fruit Snack my ass

The marketing team of the "Fruit Snack" products are geniuses because "Fruit Snack" is really just "snack". They are actually like gummy bears masquerading as a healthy snack. Most of them don't even contain any fruit or fruit juice - it's a total joke and the name should be illegal. Hello, FDA, wake up!
I can't even believe that schools give these out to children.
And that it became a part of my daughter's vocabulary. So I set about to fix that, explaining to her what "Fruit Snacks" really are. So today when she told me that she got Fruit Snacks at a playdate but she knows they're really gummies, it just warmed my heart.

What made me laugh out loud was when she said, Why do some mommies give out a lot of junk and other mommies don't?

You can't trick me

This morning as D was sitting on the potty, she complained that it hurt.
I told her that when you don't eat fruits and vegetables you get hard poopy.
I reminded her how she scarfed down the pretzels which makes poopy hard.
"I JUST had pretzels" she retorted.

My Irish Daughter

Last night I went into S's room to do a final tuck in. She was happily dancing a little jig on top of her bed. What are you doing? I asked.
"Doing an Irish dance" she answered matter of factly.

Can't wait for homophones and palindromes

It always amazes me when my two children at 4ish and 2ish can have a coherent conversation with each other.

A few months ago, D was saying Who beeped the horn?, a favorite question of hers when she is riding in the car and hears someone honk the horn.
Meanwhile, S quickly said, Mooooom, D said Poopy the horn. I don't know if this is what she actually heard and she's trying to get clarification or she's engaging in a favorite activity of hers, getting her sister into trouble. Judging by her tone, it's more the latter.
Of course D is now bigger and smarter, very capable of defending herself (much more capable and mature than the days when S would ride a tricycle and D would crawl after her and sometimes D would get her fingers run on, poor thing). D retorted, No I didn't say POOPY the horn, I said WHO BEEPED the horn.
It always amuses me to hear them bickering comprehensibly considering how much nonsense they used to say.

Is this sanitary?

My mom (who's obsessed with killing germs) and other Thai people I've lived with (who isn't obsessed with sterilizing) and remember (my dad) both believe in what I think is a strange practice. They bring stuff to a boil and leave it sitting (outside of the fridge), believing that this is a hygienic way to store food. I've been thinking that this actually creates more bacteria or germs. Or maybe my husband put that idea into my head. In any case we agree on this one. And recently I thought I read that after cooking food, store it right away in the fridge - do not wait for it to cool down.

The other day, I made a huge pot of soup. After eating some, I was remarking to my mother how I didn't look forward to putting it all in Tupperware so that it can be stored in the fridge. Quick as the ninja that she is, she turned on the gas and said, Just bring it to a boil and leave it there. This time, I was especially confused because it came to a boil just under an hour ago.


I'd like to know 2 things:
I need to find out if this is pure genius or insanity.
I'm going to poll all the other Thai people I know to find if this practice is more widespread.

Thanks Josh

Sometimes it ends up being really nice when you have a cheap and controlling Jewish husband who refuses to let you buy a KitchenAid stand mixer because he thinks the Cuisinart (food processor) can do the same job. He then proves it by making 4 sweet and delicious challahs using the Cuisinart.

UPDATE: It's also nice that he takes in stride whatever insults I may hurl on him on the World Wide Web.

This made me laugh

A lady in a ginormous monster truck was backing out of a parking spot at the supermarket today. It took her more than 5 tries. She honked at me to move my shopping cart. I thought there was enough clearance but I complied and moved it.

A 70 year old James Dean wanna-be (complete with the over-gelled hair, distressed leather jacket and low cut t-shirt) pulled up next to me and started sympathizing. "She had more than enough room; she shouldn't be driving that thing if she can't drive."

"Maybe I shouldn't have left the cart there," I said. I always feel bad about not putting it back in the front of the store. It seems so wasteful to hire an entire person to do this job.

"It's not your fault, honey," he croaked. Geez, he must smoke like 2 packs a day. "Everyone leaves their carts out."

Then he promptly parks his car into a handicapped spot! I didn't see a handicapped sticker or plate. I was going to stick around and see if he walked without any aids. If not, I was fantasizing about telling him off even though he was siding with me re: the shopping cart.

Of course I did nothing and drove off chuckling.

Downpour

I asked Sadie to pour out some bread crumbs for me as I was breading some fish fillets. She brought over the container and poured waaaay too much out. Right away I realized I should've coached her through it to pour it out gently and with control.

"Oh, it's too much!" I exclaim with some calamity since I don't like waste.

"That's because kids don't know how much grown ups want," says S wisely.

Do they design these things with 4 yr olds in mind?

Yesterday, I was browsing the Internet on a laptop with S standing right by me. Things were quiet and uneventful until a pop up window came up. Like a well-honed reflex, I automatically closed it. S started whining. "What was that? I want that!". I think the window might've had flashing gumballs, but I didn't look at it long enough to process anything about the nuisance window.
"S, it was junk mail." I told her. But this didn't placate her.
"I want junk mail!" she declared boisterously. "Give me junk mail!!!!"

Mommy's little helper

The two of them relish the other being punished.

S was in a timeout in the living room when she started whining and belting out some insults. Something about putting a spell on me. So her timeout escalated to a timeout in the basement.

"I'll open the door for you!" D says gleefully, running to open the basement door.

Poor Sadie

She's got her issues and is no angel but she's definitely straight-laced when compared with her wily sister.
Two examples:

"Mommmeeeee," Sadie whines. "Dazee's calling me stupid!" she tattles.
"I'm not calling her stupid," says D. "I said nubid!" She turns to her sister, repeating her torment, "NUBID, NUBID, NUBID!!!"

"Stop it Dazee! I don't like it!" S yells in desperation. She's being chased and she can't find a way out. "But I just want to hug you!" D repeats in an overly sweet voice as she chases her sister. Round and round they go around the house repeating this exchange.

Two going on 16

Mom, can I suck my thumb, D whines pleadingly like a teenager desperate to stay out late with her friends.
No, I reply firmly and authoritatively.
Why, she asks me earnestly and with a hint of defiance.
Because, it will give you a boo boo and that will hurt. So don't suck it, please!
Then in just one word, she communicates so much understanding and maturity. In the cutest, most compliant, resigned and wisest voice ever she replies, "O-tay", which is her cute way of pronouncing, OK.

Dinner conversation

I like your hair, Mom says S.
I like yours too, I reply.
Maybe because you like me, says S wisely.
You're just like me, Mommy, D chimes in.

Who's a baby?

Sometimes I tell D she's a baby and she mocks cry for me. Or other times, she defends herself, "I AM NOT BABY! I AM BIG GIRL!!!" she screeches defiantly.
The other day, she smacked S in the back. S started crying and I told S to suck it up because D is just a baby and doesn't really know what she's doing.
D said to S in a mocking tone, "Yeah, I'm just a baby!"

Starting the day

My children are so different. When S wakes up, we never know if she's going to be in a good or bad mood. J peeked into her room and she was banging her foot repeatedly against the mattress - a sure sign of discontentment, irritability and her general state of blase. He played his cards right by giving her a trinket, which immediately lifted her mood.
D, on the other hand, I observed to be stirring on the bed by her stretching and soft grunts. So I start rubbing her forehead. She opens her eyes slightly. She then turns her whole body with great force, makes herself erect and shrieks at me with great delight, "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!"
She grabs my hand, "Come me!" and motions for me to go downstairs. I lose our grip and she yells at me, Hold my hand!
She is smiling the whole time.

Google food

Yesterday, the same generous Googler treated me and my husband to all the free food we could stuff in our face (and purse) at Google.
On the way over there, we were starving. I told J my stomach was growling. He was very excited that we would soon maximize our physical state.
When we got out of the subway, we were debating whether to exit on the NW or SW side. I saw a geeky guy make a beeline for the left and told J we should follow this obvious Googler. He thought it was ridiculous but I turned out to be right! We saw him scoot right into the Google building.
So in the media it was discussed that Google had cut down on employee perks. It was not obvious to me at all. But if you want specifics, here's what I observed to be changes this time vs. the heyday - the first point was told to me.
1. They've cut the hours slightly. Lunch is half an hour later at 11:30 and ends half an hour earlier. Dinner starts at 6:30, which seems reasonable.
2. I saw a sign by the Kosher food case that informed us that this food is intended for those on a Kosher diet. If you'd like to give it a try, wait until after dinner.
3. Exotic fruits like rambutan were not available this time. I did see lychee and possibly an ugli fruit. Otherwise, it was plain old bananas, apples and oranges.
4. Drinks were really cut down - instead of 3 dozen choices, you get 2 dozen.
Other than these minor changes, I did not see any other obvious cutbacks. I thoroughly enjoyed my meal. I ate: sushi, vegan lo mein, and other vegan delights (curried seitan, lentils, tofu, beans).
Right before I left, I swiped gum, fruit leather and a bag of Pirate Booty. J made out with a roll of lifesavers.

Mixed message

This morning, I got out of bed late. It was a delicious and indulgent, because during the half hour of light sleep before one decides to get out of bed, I was cuddling with a thumb-sucking Daizy.

As soon as I got out of bed, she immediately popped out too. She ran to the bathroom and grabbed a cup. As she ran back to me, she asked for some water. I gave her some water and she thanked me in a sweet voice.

I gave her a big tight hug with a squeeze and she squealed with delight. I then asked her, "Do you want mommy to go to work or stay at home?" She said, "Stay home with me!" But seconds later she blurted out loudly and gleefully, "I WANT MONEY!!!!"

How to treat honkers?

Adding to my commuting woes is having to crossing a busy street to get to the train station. There's an official crosswalk, but waiting for the actual green light could mean waiting 2 full minutes or so, which is far too long for any commuter.
Many of us walk a few feet away from the crosswalk to the middle of the street and try our luck there. Some of the braver of us find an opening and then boldly walk to the middle of the street and stand on the double yellow line, waiting for the other side of the traffic to clear. Often times the on-coming traffic will slow down or stop. Today, I was one of the bold ones.
I crossed in the middle of street, away from the crosswalk and then waited at the double yellow lines. When there was a slight opening, a man and I decided to run across. I mostly made it safely across before I heard the horn honking and saw that the other guy almost got hit by the car who didn't slow down. He got really upset and looked like he wanted to throw his paper against the car. I'm not sure what the right thing to do is. I don't think it's right to spook crossers by honking or not slowing down. But I didn't think I should throw a rock or curse either.
All of this would probably go away if I lived in a small town. A friend of mine once remarked that he had spread open a road map in the middle of his steering wheel while stopped at a light in a small town. A few minutes later, he looked up and realized that the light had changed a few times. What shocked him was that the cars in the back of him did not honk.

Fermat

Last night, I stayed up super late, past 1AM reading a book that recounted how Wiles, a Princeton University professor solved Fermat's last theorem.
Believe it or not, it was a quick and entertaining read. Of course I skipped most of the math parts and didn't try to do any of the equations myself.
Any way, it is a wonderful story. Fermat's last theorem was unsolvable for over 300 years. The theorem itself is really easy to understand but the proof is over 100 pages long and requires years of training, luck and genius. Wiles studied math for many years and sequested himself for 7 years before producing the bulk of the proof.

I found it hilarious that the mathematical community is gossip-y and political just like the rest of the world.
I felt bad for Galois, a math genius who tragically died in a duel at the tender age of 20! I'm glad that duels are now illegal.
Finally, I felt depressed that I'm pretty much washed up. If I was supposed to accomplish any good, it would've been done a while ago. Oh well.
And it was really cool to learn that infinity - whatever = infinity. Infinity / whatever = infinity. Infinity * whatever = infinity, blah blah blah.

Commuting anger, drama and etiquette

One of the shitty things about living in Scarsdale is overcrowded trains.
This morning like all weekday mornings, a large group of us wait for the train to arrive. When the doors open, we rush to file in like herded cows into the crowded train heading for Grand Central. Once you are standing in the train, the immediate task at hand is to find a seat. There's no guarantee that you'll get a seat but most likely you'll get something, even if it's one of those miserable and undesirable seats where you sit facing a complete stranger and your knees knock into each other's. (Maybe that should be a Craigslist section for singles looking to meet other singles.)
Any way, the woman in front of me requested to sit in an empty middle seat of a three seat arrangement that already had occupants in the "aisle" and "window" seat. Usually when this happens, the person on the "aisle" seat will get up and the seat requester can scoot into the middle seat. Sometimes, on rare occasions, the person in the aisle seat may actually scoot over and you can sit in the coveted aisle seat even though you were the last to the party. (Actually I'm bummed when this happens because I hate the aisle seat. The height of the aisle seat is low and I like to sink my whole body into the seat and lean my head and neck against it and fall into a drool-y sleep. This is not possible in the low back aisle seats - you have to sit up straight).

So anyway, this guy does not do one of the two possible options - doesn't get up to let her into the middle seat or scoot over. Instead he kinds of makes a fuss, which is nerve wracking. For whatever reason, every nano-second counts towards some kind of weird efficiency we're all striving after. Plus, any delay, no matter how minute, will only add to the waiting time of the person behind you who's trying to do the same thing, get a seat. And New Yorkers, even though we have a reputation for being rude, we are actually very polite when it comes to other people's time - we try very hard not to waste it. A few excrutiating nano-seconds pass and this guy still hasn't done the appropriate thing. He then scoots over like 3 inches - essentially taking up 1 3/4 seats. She decides to give up on this seat and probably feels humiliated. She passes him and walks further back to secure another seat.

I wanted to confront him. "Did you pay for two seats?" I wanted to say. Of course I said nothing but I've been seething since.

Anyway, what are you supposed to say to someone when you want the seat that they're blocking? It feels like a strange power dynamic. Why do I have to ask, as if to request permission to get an available seat? There should be a non-verbal sign like a cock to one side of the head that stands for move over, bacon. Instead I have to mumble, "Excuse me" or "Can I sit there?", etc. Oh and once somebody didn't move over, but motioned for me to cross over them to get into the seat. That's weird too. As I squeeze in this way, I'm sure to graze or touch them in some way. Hmmm..maybe that's a part of the ploy. Anyway, what's more polite, to face this rude person from the front or back? Or yell, "please us get up from that seat to save us from some uncomfortable social touching" or "do you really want me to bump into you? i have a communicable disease". It's really not fair and extremely rude for anyone blocking an empty seat next to them to have a power trip. Also hate the people who spread all of their belongings on empty seats.

Another shitty thing is being a petite woman. The chances are slim that I will be sitting next to an empty seat. An empty seat next to a small woman who doesn't smell is like sitting in first class but without the extra charges. If there's an empty seat next to me, I can almost feel the glee of any guy who ends up snagging it. Oh well. It can help for securing a seat for me...sometimes I'm really desperate and have to squeeze in between two fat people that only make 3/4 of a seat available.

Once when I was wearing a leg brace, I couldn't get someone to give up one of the handicapped seats on the bus. I felt so humiliated, I almost burst out into big sobbing tears right then and there.

D as Goldilocks

About a week ago, I was lying down with D as she was going to sleep. She will always suck her left thumb furiously before going to bed. In fact, she probably sucks it all the time, which is why it's calloused, blistered and just really gross. So I've been trying to discourage her from doing it. For some reason, even though it's cracked, red and peeling, she still gets satisfaction from sucking it.

Anyway, I told her to try my thumb instead. I gave her my thumb and she started sucking on it. She thought it was really funny so she burst out laughing. After a few seconds she said to me, "No, this is not the right thumb, I need your left thumb." So I gave her my left thumb. She gave that a try for a few sucks and then concluded, "Your thumb's too big!" She promptly went back to sucking her bulbous, diseased left thumb.

American and Japanese genius

I discovered a brand new tasty snack today at the local Duane Reade - Pringles Stix (pictured above).

They're basically a genius knock-off of not one but two popular Japanese snacks, Pocky and Pretz. Glico should probably sue P&G for infringement. "Stix" even has the same "roasted" on a "grill" markings as Pretz!


Trivia - So Pocky and Pretz is made by the Japanese company Glico. They derived this name from the word glycogen. How cool is that? To name your company after the chemical name of sugar. I wonder if there's a company named after MSG?

D is 2 years and one and a half months old.

D is growing, maturing and changing every day by leaps and bounds. That sounds so cliche but it's true.

The other day, in the morning, she was sitting on my lap and we were watching Blue Clues. I whispered softly to her that I had to go to work. Immediately, she bolted off my lap and ran towards the front door. I had no idea why she did this. I looked over and saw that she had quickly put on her shoes and then she said to me, "Mommy, I go work with you." It just broke my heart.

Last night, she was being difficult about going to bed. She said in rapid succession, "Don't wanna go sleep. Want to go downstairs and eat cereal." Wow, that's like three concepts in one utterance.

Mystery solved!

If you don't want to spoil the surprise, then don't read this blog until you read the post before it.




My fairy godmother turned out to be a cute little thief that I work with. She was craving a bag of Doritos that was sitting on my desk so she decided to take the bag and replace it with Pocky. I was none the wiser, having totally forgotten about the Doritos.

I'm still glowing from winning Beyonce concert tickets for this Sunday! Woo hoo!

Sugar Daddy!

I don't know who my mysterious fairy godparent is but thank you and I love you.

This morning, when I got into the office, someone left a wonderful surprise for me.

It was a package of strawberry Pocky sitting coyly on top of my desk. No note, nothing but good yummy pink stuff. My favorite flavor. How did she/he know?

I was going to have oatmeal and fruit for breakfast but instead, I ripped right into my Pocky. I am now happy and fully satisfied with my palm oil, artificial flavors, trisodium phosphate and sodium bicarbonate. In all seriousness though, I am surprised that Pocky isn't so bad for you. Only 60 mg of sodium and 11g of sugar. The surprise fact is that each serving has 10% your daily value of calcium and it actually contains real strawberry in the ingredients!

HURRAY!

Isn't this so typical?

Josh taking what he wants, despite any opposition.

Daisy Monroe

S Money

Ears and eyes behind my head even while sleeping

Why aren't you wearing your pants, I ask my daughter even though I know the answer.
Because Daisy wet them she said.
I knew she was lying.
S, I know you wet your pants, didn't you, I confronted her.
Mom, you heard that?! she said shocked but also with a smile.
Even though I was taking a nap, I was someone awake for the part when she wet herself.

Quintessential Josh

"Why don't you have an umbrella!" I chastise my husband as we stand under a canopy in front of a store.
"My jacket's waterproof," he shrugs nonchalantly and starts pulling on his hood.
I am fretting like crazy because the rain is coming down moderately hard and I know how I hate for my feet to get soaked. I always feel so poor and pitiful when I'm caught in the rain without an umbrella.
"Come back with me to the office," I beg. "I have another umbrella and you can take this one."
He's pretty stubborn and refuses.
I rack my brain for strategies and then what I come up with is just pure genius.
"Look," I said. "My umbrella is pretty shitty." I point to the space where there should be a handle but it's missing.
All of a sudden he's like a kid in a candy store. He gets really giddy and agrees that my umbrella is shitty. Ultimately he agrees to take my shitty umbrella.

Kids say the darndest things...

Last night I asked if J could give the kids a bath because I felt so exhausted. It was tough for him because they're used to me doing it. Both girls crawled into bed with me. J decided to drag poor D first into the bath by her feet. As she screamed and cried down the hall and into the bathroom, I tried to encourage S to follow her. "Go take a bath with D" I said.

"Why?" asked S. Then she answered her own question. "Because you might trowed up on me?"

This totally shocked me and I hope she doesn't repeat it to anyone else but I simply replied, "Yea". She rushed out of that bed into the tub in a split second.

I relayed her bizarre statement to J and he told me another bizarre statement made by S. He asked her to do something or whatever and she of course asked why. And then proceeded to answer her own question, "Because you might hit me?"

J and I have never hit or threw up on our kids, I don't even know how they come up with this stuff.

More swine flu please

I gingerly walk in to my husband's old room to check on my daughter. I find her head resting on her grandfather's lap as he tenderly strokes her hair.

"I don't think she has a fever anymore," he tells me.

And I guess because she's been given so many treats and lots of special attention when we discovered she had a fever, she responds with, "Mom, may I have a fever?"

These made me chuckle

This morning, I groggily and grudgingly walk downstairs from my bedroom, even though my kids have been awake for 45 minutes.

I say good morning to them. D gives me a grin and is obviously happy to see me. S doesn't really pay any attention to me.

I go into the living room and start sitting down. "I'm sitting down," I announce to them.

"Why?" asks S.

"Because I want to relax, " I tell her.

"From all that sleeping?" S says super sarcastically.

Last night, during bedtime, I waited for S outside of her room. D was sitting on my lap. As usual, she was noisy and I had to quiet her down so that S doesn't get riled up. Shhhh! I say sternly to her. She continues with her babbling and loudly. So I put my hand over her mouth.

She starts licking my hand! Yuck!

I shush her again, still no desired results. I put my hand over her mouth again, this time a little more cautiously. I guess this must be some kind of undocumented toddler reflex, because she licks it again, as if on cue.

Shhhhhhh! This time I'm getting really angry. Her response? She starts chanting a soft mantra, in a whisper, "Beee quuuuiet. Beee quuuuiet. Beee quuuuiet."

Why?!

"Oh, S, it looks like you lost your earring, " I remark.
"Why, Mom?" she asked. She's in this period of asking why about everything and every situation.
"I guess it must've fallon off and you didn't notice."
"Oh" She was kind of crestfallen.
"Yea, I'm sorry, we're not going to find it."
"I want to be a grown up!" she exclaims.
This time, I'm the one asking, why. "Why?" I said.
"So I won't lose things." she said wisely.

Here's another conversation where any response from me gets a "why?" from her, without missing a beat.
"I want some water," she yelled from the back.
"Want some wader!" her sister chimes in, equally loud and rude sounding.
"Ask nicely...and it would be nice if you gave it to your sister, D first." we remind her.
"Why?"
"Because it would be a nice thing to do."
"Why?"
"Because you're a nice person."
"Why?"
"Because it makes the world a better place."
"Why?"
"Because people appreciate kindness"
"Why?"
"Because it makes them feel good."
"Why?"
At this point, I'm running out of ideas so I start repeating myself.
"Because being nice is good for the world."
"Why am I asking why a lot?" she said an introspective but also comical kind of way.

Dirty money

Wow, my hypochondriac, germ-phobic mother was right about money being dirty. Read this short article, Can You Catch Swine Flu From Money?

Trouble

"What are the rules of Kidz Club?" I prod S.
Kidz Club is an activity we send her to twice a week and they work on social skills - like turn taking and being polite, etc.

"No hitting!" she says. I don't remember this as one of the official rules, but I play along as definitely I agree you shouldn't hit.

"And..." I reply. "What are the other rules of Kidz Club?" I'm waiting for S to say something like Look into someone's eyes when you talk to them. Or use the person's name when you're talking to them.

Instead I get this...

"No biting!"
"Right...and what else S....what are the other rules?" I'm getting a little exasperated now by these outbursts of obvious social no-no's. So, of course she has to take me over the edge with a societal no-no:

"And no killing!" she yells.

Sheesh. I'm raising a complete punk. Hopefully not a socio-path though....

More time for returns

I just bought $5 worth of Mega Millions tickets. The drawing is late tomorrow night and the jackpot is a whopping $220 mil!

If I win, I guess I wouldn't have to work and would have more time to do returns from my bad decision making from online shopping or from impulsive brick and mortar purchases.

Sesame Tofu

I made a dish that seemed to be popular among a few vegetarians and a baby at our Seder gathering. I was asked for a recipe and here it is, although I'm totally winging it. If you're going to try it, feel free to contact me with any questions, as I'm an intuitive cook and don't measure anything. This recipe is really easy, delicious and hard to mess up.

Ingredients:
Tofu (you can even mix firm with semi firm or soft or even silken (perfect for babies and old folks with no teeth!)-- whatever works, personally, I prefer the softer - these are easier found in Asian markets, as I've noticed places like Trader Joe's and Whole Foods often stocks firm or extra firm.)
Soy sauce (I prefer Kikoman brand)
Sugar (white granulated)
Sesame oil (you can substitute any vegetable oil (corn, canola, veg, etc.), I don't recommend olive but in a pinch I'm sure it's fine)
Sesame seeds (optional - seriously it is even though it's called "sesame" tofu. Sesame to me is kinda of like a flavor and color - ppl are expecting a sweetish kind of brown sauce.)
Scallions (optional)
Corn starch
Onions
Water

Cut up the tofu in cubes and set aside. Cut up the onions in small pieces and set aside. Finely dice the scallions if you're using as a garnish (makes it look a little nicer, otherwise tofu in brown sauce tends to look like you know what) and set that aside. Heat the oil in a pan. Stir fry the chopped onions for a few minutes. Then put in the tofu, stir fry a litle and then add in the sesame seeds. Keep stirring the whole time (makes me feel useful). Add some soy sauce and sugar to taste - season it a little too much as you will then add water to create some liquid. In a small finger bowl, use mix together cornstarch (2 tsp?) and a little water, making sure the cornstarch is "melted" and mixed well with the water by using your fingers. When the liquid and tofu is super hot (boiling over), slowly add in the cornstarch and water mixture and stir as you add. Continue until you run out of the mixture. You can turn off the heat after it's all cooked and mixed through - the cornstarch mixture simply thickens it so it becomes gravy/sauce like.

When you're all done, sprinkle the finely diced scallions on top, if you're using that.

If you want, you can add ground meat to it. Cook the ground meat first with the onions. And if you want something spicy, forget the tofu, use ground meat, all else being the same and then add in Korean Hot bean paste (and other chopped veggies if you want), serve on hot white rice and a fried egg - it's kind of like bi bim bap.

Instant gratification for some

Last night I bought myself some Mother's day presents from Josh. I'm looking forward to when they come in the mail.

When it comes to consumption, my husband and I are definitely not two peas in the pod. For one, anything new I get, I want to use right away. I become a deranged individual, looking for ways to remove the tag and even thinking of biting as a solution, if scissors are not available at the counter so that walk out of stores with the item on, be it shoes, clothes or accessories.

My dear hubby on the other hand will keep items in his closet for months, weeks or even years, "preserving" them. He once pulled out a really ratty looking and probably smelly (everything he owns is musty) t-shirt when I requested that he put on something better. I gave a disapproving look and sneered. "What?!" is his response. "This is brand new!" Then he adds gleefully, "I've had it for 14 years!" And before I can continue with verbal attacks he beams, full of pride, "And it's Calvin Klein!"

At which point, I have to burst out laughing. CK was maybe exclusive in the 80s, but in today's world, you can get CK at Costco and it's all made it China anyway!

4 grandparents?!

"That's right. So you have 4 grandparents. 2 grandmas and 2 grandpas," I said to S as we were riding in the car, on the way to tot shabbat.
"Who's my other grandma? There's one at home," she replied.
"Well, Baba is your grandma too, even though you don't call her grandma. And Pa is your grandfather. And your other grandfather lives in Thailand."
A moment of silence follows my explanations as she mulls these facts.
"Who's my other mom?!" she asked.
I chuckle..."You only have one mom and one dad," I told her.

It wouldn've been enough if she just went to school

S has been out of school for a week and a half now and I think we were all looking forward to her going back. This morning, I was woken up by a lovely rendition of a verse from Dayenu.
Her sweet voice softly sang:
Ilu ho-tsi, ho-tsi-a-nu, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Da-ye-nu!

Life, death and lies x2

Poor S! Yesterday when I got home from work she told me in a terrified voice that she didn't want to die. I tried to comfort her with the truth ... that it happens to everyone and that it's nothing to be afraid of or to think about. And that it wouldn't happen to her in a very long time. But none of that worked, so I resorted to lies.

Then it happend again. Just before getting into bed, she broke out into big sad tears and sobbed that she didn't want me to die because then she'll have no mommy. And that "I don't want my family to die". And then she started naming everyone she could think of, D, me, J, her grandparents, etc. and that she didn't want them to die either.

She only calmed down after I told her once again that no one was going to die.

Kiddie quotes

The other morning, when I got out of bed, I got a very funny surprise. D pulled my pants away from my waist and asked, "Poopy in diaper?" I felt the draft and started laughing...she imitated something I subject her to all the time - viewing her backside and checking for poop!

My friend James is really ingratiating himself with my kids. He appeals to all their desires and demands, like picking them up and throwing them around as often as they ask. Both S and D are totally in love. The other night, before J left, S said to him, "I'm going to keep you". "Don't go home, James." This morning D wouldn't let me put her diaper on. She's been struggling with the simplest of tasks like that, it's really been a pain. So I said to her, "Can James put your diaper on?" She said, "Yah!" But of course, I ended up putting it on, since James was nowhere in sight. Every parent needs a fun and energetic James to play with their kids.

Last night, D was giving me the hardest time about going to sleep. She kept whining and crying for no reason. So I resorted to one of the few tricks that often work. I asked her in a baby talk voice in Thai, "Gow lung?", which means, "Scratch your back?". Usually, even if she's screaming at the top of her lungs, asking her this question will make her stop in her tracks and say, "Yah!" in a normal voice without a hint of whininess. It's pretty incredible to see the quick transition in action. So after she said Yah!, I started to scratch her back, then she would command, "Again, again!" if I slowed down or stopped. Then when I start again, she'd express her approval, "I like it, I like it." It's so funny!

New project - toddler haggadah

I can't find any good and free haggadahs suitable for toddlers on the Internet. I'm going to make it my two year project.

Things I hate paying for

Shipping
Handling
Parking
Late fees
Credit card surcharge
Registration fees
Anything non-refundable
Drinks (includes alcoholic, soft ones and water)
Dinner when lunch specials are available
Bowling shoes rental
Gum at retail (instead of warehouse/club price)

And I wish I didn't have to pay extra for lactose free milk. I think it was priced more competitively in Hawaii where there are more of my lactose-intolerant brethen.

What's good for the goose

"I have to poop!" S announces loudly. So begins a frantic rush to the bathroom to help her on the potty. After she is safely ensconced on the throne, she will look at me and say firmly, "I need some privacy, please." That's my cue to close the door and wait outside for her.
"I'm done!" she yells. That's my cue to go back in and wipe her.

Last night, I was using the bathroom and S barges in, something frequently done by both S and D. "S," I said. "I need some privacy, please close the door."

"I promise I won't look, Mom. I will turn around," she says, as she starts walking away. Since there were guests milling about in the house, I yelled after her. "No, please come back and close the door!" But my request fell on deaf ears.

When the man is in charge

"Can you feed D at 11:30 and put her down for a nap at 12 so I can continue my workout?" I ask my husband a little frantically from coatroom in the gym. I'm a little nervous because I don't know if he can do it or maybe I won't be satisfied with how he does it.
"Yea, sure," he says a little dismissively like, I don't need instructions from you for such routine stuff.

I had a super great workout, sore everywhere. I get home and walk in the door at 11:50. Both children are crying, one of them is completely bottomless and both of them tell me that they're hungry. Poor little D is crying and her nose is runny. Of course my husband is nowhere in sight. I wipe D's nose and assure her that I'm going to make her lunch. She tries to calm down but she's hysterically hungry.

In a mad haze, I start assembling the ingredients for both their lunches. They are crying the whole time and that makes me both nervous and motivated. Within 5 furious minutes, I'm less frazzled. It's peaceful again as both girls begin to eat their lunch.

After D is done, I put her down for a nap. Then I eat my lunch. The husband asks if I can cook up some chicken for him and I agree to do it. He was a big help in cutting up the onions and slicing the chicken, albeit into pieces a little too thick for my taste.

While cooking up the chicken S interrupts me a minimum of 4 times for something or other. Eventually I can enjoy the fruits of my labor. 4 lbs of mexican inspired chicken cooked up that he can add some pepper jack cheese and either make a nice wrap or have it with some chips. I make up my mind to donate at least 1.5lb of it to a friend I'll see tomorrow morning.

Then I noticed that the door off the cabinet in the island is hanging off and away from its hinge. It's completely broken! It looked like a 300lb gorilla ripped it off in one fell swoop or... the signature work of Dazee Starr.

A few minutes later, I go over to the dining table and notice that two of the leather chairs have big crayon circles all over them. "Did you even watch these kids?!" I question the husband. With a sigh, I clean it up. I could feel my sore triceps working as I work to scrub off the stains. Luckily they come off reasonably easily.

More quotes

It's very dark and I'm trying to get my kids to bed. "Shhhh!" I shush S in a stern voice.
She replies with a mantra that I've heard before in a very earnest voice, "I have to work in college".

"Wow!" I remark to S. "I think that's the best tattoo ever!"
"Yes," she agreed. "Sometimes the others are bad. This one is the goodest."

"S, let me wash your hands!" For some strange reason, she held back one of her hands. I got very annoyed and didn't understand why she recoiled. Then she explained that washing that hand would wash her tattoo away.

Quotes from the evening

"Dis! Dis!" D tells at me and points towards a pile of papers on the desk. I have no idea what she wants and totally dismiss her request. I try to distract her with something else. "This?" I ask, giving her something clearly not in her field of vision. "Dis! Dis!" she yells louder, clearly distressed that I'm not going to give her what she asked for. "What?!" I said. "What do you want?!"
"Dis, dis, dis! Mommy! Mommy!" she repeats.
I look carefully at the pile of random pieces of papers. Among it is an old university ID card with my picture! Hence, "Mommy!"
It's so funny to see will and purpose expressed at a young age. And I thought I didn't look like that any more but if an almost 2 year old knows it's me, I guess it is what I look like still. Big hair and a terrible smile!


"Are you an alligator again? Your arms are so dry!"
"No, I'm not an alligator," she whines. "I don't wanna be an alligator! If I be an alligator, I'm going to eat you. Then I will have no mommy!"

After we've said our goodnights and we're lying in the dark, S keeps talking and blathering on. "Shhhh!" I shush her. "Stay quiet or I have to leave!" I threatened.
In a few moments, I adjust my position and S brags, "I fall asleep already."
I'm about to say something to contradict her but she preempts me by continuing to talk. "Don't talk to me Mom," she warns. Then she lectured me, "If you talk to me, you might be boddering me."

Soon all was quiet on the home front. I had two peacefully sleeping children. So I snuck out of the room and came downstairs and started this blog. What I really should do now is go to the gym.......

In total awe

S's therapist had me in total awe and admiration. He got S to put on her shoes, pants, shirt, brush her teeth and open the front door all by herself. And really fast, in a quick manner as if she was running a race to save her life. All because she wanted to put her hands into a sticky cornstarch and water mixture that he had dumped pieces of plastic tchotkes in. Brilliant!
I was so proud of S. I didn't even know she was capable of doing those things, the way she would complain and resist, dragging on getting dressed in the morning. Guess we need to bribe her with cornstarch, water and plastic. Works so much better than M&M's or chocolate balls!

Get this child away from porclean

I'm so amused and impressed by what D did today. In less than about 15 seconds she:
1. Opened up more than twenty windows on my computer. Some of the windows hung and a few hours later, they are still hung and it seems like the only way to solve this problem is a reboot.
2. She took a pen and started banging really hard on the keyboard, if I didn't take it away, something was definitely going to break. After I took away her weapon, she started banging with all her might all over the keyboard, like a non-stop-gone-hay-wire jackhammer.
3. She pushed all the contents off the table - papers, pen, binder clips, etc. on the floor.
4. She grabbed a lens holder and dumped out the lenses again and again.
5. She found a packet of seeds and I saved her from dumping them out in the nick of time.

All this in 15 seconds!

I'm totally astounded by how she breaks everything.

Elated and depressed

I was so elated today because the hubby and I decided to join Equinox together. And we had a great workout tonight.
Right before I left I went on the scale. Egads! That was a stupid thing to do.
I am still 126. I don't get it.
Two weeks into my diet and I haven't lost any weight yet.
Confession: I had two lunches and two dinners today.

Kids say the darndest things

It's so amazing how capable kids are at a young age to repeat words and actions.

I remember S at 8 months went around saying, "Bullshit" for a full day because she heard me say it to her dad.

The other day, little D was holding her lovie and said, "I love you, Teddy". She then proceeded to kiss her toy. Awwww....Or she runs up to me, wraps her chubby arms as tight as she can around my leg and says with a big grin, "I gonna put you in gulag!".

S has been known to say, "I'm going to kill you" or "Stupid" or "Shut up" or the ever popular "Poopy" and the sinister "You can't come to my house". That last one I think she made up herself. As well as "I'm going to throw a fire on you!"

And then the sweet side of S, "You're my best friend" etc.

No one to blame

It's 8:30 and dark, as we leave a friend's house with the kids. It's been a long day of fun and eating, especially for S, who indulged in all kinds of sweets.
"My tummy hurts," she says. "Take my cookies away so I don't eat them," she tells Josh in a mature voice, handing over her goody bag.
"Tomorrow I'm not going to eat junky food," she promises. Then she tries to find a scapegoat. "Who gave me all this junky food?" she asks.
"It doesn't matter who gave it to you, you ate it, so it's your fault," I said.
"Did myself give me the treats?" she questions.

Yogi baby

D is lying down on the bed while I'm fumbling with the diaper. "Help, help, help," she says. As I am about to put her diaper on, she lifts up her hips and tush into the air as if she's doing "bridge".
"Wow! Thanks!" I said. "That was a big help!"
She weighs about 28 lbs, 3 lbs less than her sister, who's 2 years older.

Carrot soup and the AIG tax

I found this email in my inbox this morning from the hubby.

Subject: "The people are finding their voice"

Body: "I think. A blog might be in order:

We're closer to a revolution than I've ever seen in this country. The people are angry, and politicians will look to appease them. Whether rational or not, they will need some appeasement. Hopefully some good comes of it like the historically politically difficult healthcare reform.
The people are angry, and are starting to care enough to demand some of what they felt powerless to effect in the past. They are finding their voice."

My response: "U wrote this?"

His response: "yes I did. Now I'm going to heat up a quart of your carrot soup for breakfast. "

I did it again

Made 6 qts of delicious carrot soup!
I froze one quart. I think my family can eat 2-3 quarts. So I need to give away 1-2 quarts.

Good things

This blog post is my mini-version of a favorite Martha Stewart Living magazine feature, a collection of random tips. Although this version is only about cooking.

1. The typical meatballs (for spaghetti and meatballs) recipe calls for meat, eggs, breadcrumbs, seasonings (salt, pepper, oregano, basil, majoram, etc.), etc. I don't always use eggs - I can take it or leave it, it doesn't make or break a recipe. My best secrets for meatballs: use a little brown sugar (or even plain white granulated will do), put in a little tomato sauce and food process tons of garlic and onions into a watery pulp and combine ingredients in a large bowl well. Once combined, form them into balls. THIS YIELDS THE MOST DELICIOUS AND BEST MEATBALLS EVER, after 8 years of experimentation. Any ground meat will do, turkey and chicken will yield more tender meatballs than beef, but they are also hard to keep together and form into a ball. You can also mix meats. Turkey with beef or beef with ground chicken works well and taste good.
2. Before having that navel orange, grab your peeler, make some zest and then freeze. I find navel oranges make the best zest. I got really mad at myself tonight for eating a navel orange without making zest - a lost opportunity!
3. I learned this from a Rachel Ray magazine - to easily peel garlic, microwave it for 10 seconds. Works like a charm, peel comes right off! I wonder if any nutrients are lost though...
4. The best roast chicken ever: combine tons of grated ginger, finely chopped garlic, orange zest a little brown sugar and soy sauce. Take a whole chicken, separate the skin from it and rub some butter between the breasts and skin. Salt between the breasts and skin and all over the outside. Peel a tangerine and squeeze the juice over and inside the chicken. Put the leftover tangerine (with mashed flesh and peel) inside the cavity. Spread your sauce of ginger et. all between the breasts and skin. And then all over and under the chicken. Bake at 500 for 20 minutes. And then 350 for 40 minutes. This yielded the most delicious and tender 4lb chicken for me. I just had it tonight. YUMMMMM!!!

Give me a break!

A few snippets from the NEW YORK AP:
"Federal prosecutors have notified a New York court that they also want the assets of Bernard Madoff's wife. In a court filing, the government said it will seek the $7 million Manhattan penthouse as well as another $62 million that Ruth Madoff had sought to keep.
Madoff's lawyers had indicated earlier that they planned to claim Ruth Madoff was entitled to keep as much as $69 million in assets.
They said the assets were not part of Madoff's fraud and that they were in her name."

Doh, where do you think she got those assets from?! I'm pretty sure there's a high probability they were ill-gotten from the scheme they were running.

Diet update

Yesterday was a pathetic performance for my diet. I ate two lunches, two dinners and didn't work out (even though it was time to). I blamed it on D for staying up late, thus throwing my timing off, causing me to eat late which prevented me from working out.
I'm not off to a good start this morning either. We just ran out of my favorite breakfast cereal so I have nothing (healthy) for breakfast. When I got to work, I started eating the only nourishment I could find, Saltines. I had two of them, ick!
Wish me luck that I don't go across the street for a decadent sausage, eggs, cheese and hash browns.
But then again, it is Shabbat. I know when I get home tonight, I will tear into that deliciously dough-y and sweet challah.
J says in order to be on a diet you have to cut out carbs. But I won't even try to do that. I think reducing all portions is more manageable and hopefully, reasonably efficient.

Sharing is caring

"Heah..." S says, handing over a small handful of found booty (cheerios) to her sister.
"You can have some. But that's it. Or else you will get diarrhea," she warns her sister.

Conversation at Trader Joe's

I told S to let me wear her pink plastic ring bc I was afraid she
might lose it in the store. Surprisingly she handed over her ring
agreeably and remarked, "You wear my ring cuz you're married to me."

In the parking lot S said to me, I like cheese so much, like mice. "

I feel like I have to go around with a tape recorder. Gems are
frequently dropping left and right.

Wonder what goes on in their heads

Last night before she went to bed, S says to me, "Mom, wanna know why I love you?"
"Why?"
"Cuz you're my friend."
So I tell her, "Do you want to know why I love you? Because you're my daughter and you're very special to me."
Not to be outdone, she replies, "You're my daughter too, Mom!"

This morning, she was so excited as she jumped into me and said, "Mom, I love you in the world!"
And I said, "Aren't you missing something in that sentence?"
Then she exuberantly replied, "Mom, I love you on the top of the world!"

Day two

Day 2 of the diet and I think I only need to undo two buttons instead of the buttons and the zipper on my size 6 pants. YAY!

Couple that loses together stays together

Or 300 lbs of looooooooooooooooooove...............

My husband has agreed to go on a diet and weight loss plan with me. The first step is the dreaded weigh-in. So we got on the scale together, held hands and closed our eyes briefly.

294.6
296.5
299.3
295.6

We did it 4 times and those were the results. I guess our scale is a little funky.

Any way, we're going to work as a team so we won't know how much each member is pulling their weight, hehehehehe.

I think we're going to try to eat less, eat healthier and exercise more. I haven't decided how frequently to do the weighings. Two co-workers told me that they weigh themselves daily, it was the only way to stay disciplined. When I heard that, I scoffed. But look where I am now.

Sadie's husband, Haman

Last night, before she went to sleep, she told me again she loved her husband, Haman.
And she was going to work on turning him good. But if that didn't work, then she was going to get a whale to eat him up. And then with her mouth wide open, she made a loud, grunting eating sound.

Extra Recession Pounds (but not the good, ie monetary kind)

It's 3:30 and I'm dying for a snack but I have to control myself and find other ways to stave off my pre-conditioned all-day hunger because as of now, I'm on the first diet of my life. How did I get here? I don't normally like to talk about my weight but tough times call for super transparency, so here goes.

Starting around last year, every time I saw a picture of myself, it was unusually unflattering or let me blunt, I thought I looked fat. Either my face seemed puffy or my behind looked rather large. I kept thinking it was a bad angle, or poor sleep, or a poorly planned outfit, or blamed some other temporary, external factor. I was really so creative and generous with myself! And the few times I got myself on a scale, it was somewhat of a surprise. First it was 118lbs. I thought, hey not bad, 5lbs above my pre-pregnant/wedding weight, I can live with that and wear it respectably. Then it climbed up to 122. And I thought, oh I'm getting my period, it's all this water. In my mind, I really weighed 118, the "acceptable" weight. So the scale must be broken and my dear husband corroborated with this story (if you're reading honey, I hate to tell you but our scale is not broken). I totally ignored all the signs that I had fallen into a fat trap and believe me there were plenty. Just the other week, I weighed myself on the "broken" scale again and it read "126". Whoa, I thought. The scale is super wrong, we have to find some way to return it. I was in complete denial. Then yesterday, I took my kids to the doctor and did a weigh in for myself. 126. Whoa, that must be wrong I thought. I was still in denial. My dear husband also corroborated with this story, thinking it said he was heavier than he thought he was too. But sometime after the doctor visit, it started hitting me like a ton of bricks. Two scales gave the same weight reading and I think I look fat from recent photos... So I went through some old photographs from 2 years ago until now. I couldn't deny that starting around mid/late last year, I started to look like the Stay-puft marshmallow man. I must have known on some level because I didn't put up photos of myself on Facebook. And then I remembered that my size 4 pants were getting tight so I moved up to my size 6's. When this happened, I blithely told myself that my pants had shrunken from poor washing/drying techniques (*begin rant or wrath on poor mother or husband*). Then, I couldn't fit into my skinny jeans. Damn them for shrinking, I thought, casting them to the back of the closet without nary a thought that I was actually expanding. And alas and alack, now, the final blow, even my size 6's have gotten really snug...after lunch today, I wanted to unbutton them so badly. I may have to move to size 8 or maybe even (God forbid!) my maternity clothes!
I don't know how I'm going to do this, but I need to lose the extra 8lbs. I'm eating 5 large meals a day and like Pavlov's dog or a drug addict, I NEED all those meals. I can't believe I was totally blindsided by the 8lbs. Do I cut down to 5 smaller meals or 3 large meals? Any advice? Haaaalp!!!

Cause of and medicine for pain

I think one of the signs that my children are getting older will be a full day without a single spill. At the end of today, before we start to brush our teeth, take a bath and begin our nighttime routine, a whole cup of milk is spilled. It's all over the place and I get so frustrated. I grab a dish towel that I think is ready for the wash anyway and begin to vigorously wipe up the floor. And of course, my children think it's so funny. They're trying to foil me as they walk all over the spills, spreading the wetness and creating an even bigger mess. I have to keep them away as I try to get the floor clean. The whole time I'm gritting my teeth with annoyance. And then, I feel some wiggly bodies jumping, pounding and kind of sliding off me. Because I'm down on my hands and knees, my children take the opportunity to play "horsey" with me. I can't help but burst out laughing and my bad mood is lifted.

And probably another sign that my children are growing up is the moment I don't have to worry about pens or markers left unattended on low surfaces.

Only so much she can take

"My tummy!" Sadie yells a little louder, repeating what she said earlier to her grandfather, who's a little hard of hearing.
"Your cousin?!" says Pa.
"No, my tummy!" she yells even louder.
"What?" says Pa, asking for more clarification.
Now she yells at the top of her lungs, "MY TUMMY!!!!"
And he says, "Your cousin?"
She's finally had it with him and gives her a piece of her mind, reprimanding him with the ultimate conversation killer, "Pa, you're poopy!"

A real sense of humor

"Who do you love?" asks my sister. My sister often likes to ask for validation from my children.
"My mom only!" says Sadie defiantly, fully aware of what my sister is soliciting.
"Who else?" prods my sister.
"And my dad, too," she says with a mischievous look.
"And who else?"...my sister is not going to give up.
And of course, my daughter is a total punk so she declares, "Haman"
My in laws are at the table and they're shocked.
What did Haman do, Sadie, someone asks.
She replies matter of factly, "He killed the Jews."
And decides she's going to one up herself.
"I love my mommy, my daddy and Haman, my husband."