Category Archives: Uncategorized

Rabbi, we have to stop meeting like this

Posted on January 2, 2014 by Ice Scream Mama

We, the parents of the Hebrew class of Gimel, which means third graders to non-Hebrew readers, were called to temple recently for a teaching moment with the Rabbi.

In theory, this is a very nice thing. We have a friendly, young rabbi and bunch of parents who I have known for years. In reality, putting me anywhere near the Rabbi has in the past proven somewhat problematic. Apparently, Rabbis make me nervous or stupid, possibly both.

That’s why, I have resolved for the past year or so now, to watch my mouth and what comes out of it. I will not tell the rabbi, that my hotness is the reason that the room is warm. I will not swear ‘Jesus Christmas’ when I accidentally spill my coffee that I probably should not have brought into temple in the first place. I will not comment on any part of his appearance, like I did when he grew a beard after the passing of his mother, which, who knew – was connected. Um, every Jewish person but me.

This morning, the Rabbi tells us we were brought together to discuss the Shema. I’ve always been a good girl, but never a good Jewish girl, so I couldn’t really tell you what it means beyond that is a prayer that sounds lovely to ear and speaks to the heart of the covenant between you and God. I think.

It’s probably because when the rabbi started speaking I was too involved with searching for a butterscotch candy deep in my bag. Don’t worry, he waited for me to find it.

And when one of the women asked a question that made me roll my eyes a little, I couldn’t help nudging the friend next to me and giggling like an elementary school idiot.

It’s an informal gathering and thankfully the rabbi is kind and tolerant. I add my two cents here and there, and am my general babbling self, causing one woman to remark that I should possibly just lead the discussion.

Okay, then. I’ll shut up now.

And I did, silently chastising myself until the children all filed in. They were part of this ‘special activity’ with the parents and rabbi. They took their seats around the table and my eyes followed my little third grade boy, so freaking adorable with his new haircut that accentuates his huge, green eyes that are always glittering with mischief.

They all settled in and we turned our attention back to the rabbi. “So we are all here for this….”

The sound of a chair rustling interrupted.

The rabbi starts again.

More rustling.

It is, of course, my son.

We all turned to watch my impish boy as he worked to move his chair in between the two next to him.

When he was finally done, he looked up at me and smiled radiantly. I couldn’t help but smile back, but we’re going to have to have a talk when we get home. He just can’t go around being so distracting.

I have no idea where he gets it.

Damn. I know where he gets it.

23 Comments

Posted in Being Jewish, Uncategorized and tagged Jewish, rabbis, religion, the apple don't fall far from the tree. Bookmark the permalink.

Forecast for 2014 – unresolved

Posted on December 30, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

The New Year is fast approaching and even though there are many areas in need of improvement, on principal, I refuse to make any resolutions. I mean, why does it make any sense that I could tell myself to eat less sugar, be more forgiving or whatever life altering change I need to do on January 1st that I couldn’t motivate myself to do on December 1^st?

I guess it’s the old, I’ll-start-being-a-better-person on Monday, deal. As if Monday signifies a fresh start that you could never pull off on a Tuesday. Crap, if you screw up Monday, you’ve blown it, might as well go about your business of screwing up, generally with renewed vigor since you now know your time as a screw-up is limited, and try again next week.

That’s the power of Monday; knowing that you have an opportunity to wipe the slate clean but the freedom of knowing that if you don’t, you can have a donut party by lunch and it’s all good. New Year’s resolutions are Mondays on steroids; the biggest, baddest Monday on the block.

If I were to make any resolutions, they’d be the same boring things I’ve needed to work on my whole life – lose some weight, be more patient, do more for other people, appreciate, appreciate, appreciate… I’m not a total failure on all accounts, but it’s the areas that can always be improved. It’s kind of like when I get to wish on a first star or a birthday cake, I’ll always choose the safe, expected wish. You know it, the ‘good health for your family’ wish. Heaven forbid I’d ever wish for something like getting my manuscript published, skin that doesn’t look like a chicken waiting to boil or for my father to sucker, I mean find someone to take care of him, I mean love. That kind of self-serving wishing is just asking for trouble.

So for 2014 I resolve to leave myself unresolved. I accept that I’m a bit impatient because I also get things done. And yeah, I’m addicted to ice cream, but damn it, I deserve that pleasure. Of course, I could always do more for others, but I’m also allowed to take time for myself. And my body could be better, a lot better, but it’s my body and as long as it’s working for me, I need to shut up about my own insecurities and just keep moving.

There are many improvements to make, but right now, I accept me as I am, the good, the bad and the ugly.

Besides, there’s always Monday.

Happiest, sweetest New Year, everyone.

30 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged 2014, Happy new year, new years resolutions. Bookmark the permalink.

Baby, it’s cold outside.

Posted on December 18, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

I opened my eyes slowly. For some reason, the room seemed darker and cozier than normal, and getting out of bed was even more of an effort. Slowly, I shuffled toward the bathroom and on my way caught a glimpse of the outside world through my window. Oh my God, it’s snowing. No wonder it was hard getting out of bed. Somehow the body knows when it rains or snows and instinctually wants to burrow in.

It’s beautiful. The sky is bright and grey, a silver lining, speckled with small fluffs of white; soft winter butterflies fluttering gently to the ground. I peer at it, watching it fall; the houses almost surreal in their untouched new snow beauty. A snow globe all shook up.

If I close my eyes, I imagine a horse drawn carriage, a rosy cheeked family, puffs of cold laughter coming from their mouths that dissipate as they bring a cup of steaming cocoa to their lips. The cold is warm under the blankets and magical as it falls all around. Lovely. So lovely.

My block under cover of downy white looks like a postcard and later my kids will make it even more picturesque, sliding around outside, making forts, hurling snowballs. Their faces will turn red from the cold and exertion, their noses all a bit runny, their eyes glittering with excitement, and snow sparkling in their lashes and the locks of hair that have escaped from their hats.

They will slosh through my house afterwards, peeling off heavy boots and coats, leaving glistening chunks of snow all over my floor. They will strip off layer after laying of clothing for me to find like a scavenger hunt later on; a wet sock under the couch, underwear in a boot. They will cry that their fingers hurt and I will hold them tightly in mine until I can warm them up with my breath and a cup of hot chocolate.

We will all huddle together inside, warm and cozy, maybe light the fireplace that we almost never use. It’ll turn dark and colder, but the allure of shimmering snow in moonlight will be too much for the three little faces at the window, eyes widening at the sight. They will wait expectantly for their daddy to come home, wanting to go out in the winter wonderland again.

I will watch them by the screen door, tossing each other around like snowballs. I have no interest in being out there with them. I am mama bear. I hate the cold. I only love their delight. So I’m content to watch from my cave, knowing that soon, one by one they will come to me, either freezing or crying or both, and I will comfort them with my warm hug.

After hot showers, their faces and bodies now pink with warmth, we will tuck all their exhausted, excitement into bed; their happy voices drifting off into the quiet of falling snow.

Then I will sigh contentedly, go downstairs, do a hundred pounds of laundry and pray that it all melts by morning.

Oh yeah, loads of fun.

23 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged let it snow, snowing, weather, winter, winter wonderland. Bookmark the permalink.

Freedom is mine… And I’m feeling good.

Posted on October 22, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

Lately I’ve been waking up around 5:00am.

While, I’m naturally an early riser, this is early even for me. I think middle school has hyped me up a bit. Unconsciously, I worry about my son getting up, if he’s completed everything that needed to be done, if he’s ready for the new school day. Since I can’t fix and do everything for him, I compensate for any potential failings by preparing the perfect lunch. A+ for me.

By 6:30am, two of my three boys are usually awake. It’s the middle-schooler who needs to get up that is still sleeping. I gently shake his warm body until he yells something unintelligible and falls back unconscious. This happens at least three more times at five minute intervals, until finally I turn on the light, rip off the covers and throw clothes on top of his head.

By 7:30am, he’s out the door.

I finish up organizing and feeding my younger two, negotiating with them to put on their socks, brush their teeth, eat their breakfast. Pretty much everything I need to get done for them is a negotiation. Like I would be the one embarrassed if they went to school with their shirt inside out, or in trouble if they didn’t finish their homework, or mortified if the girl they ultimately asked to the prom turned them down because they had no teeth. Okay, fine, I would.

Finally, the bus arrives and I wave, smile and jump up and down manically for the two little faces, one with dark curly hair, the other blonde and straight, pressed to the window watching me in amusement.

By 8:30am, they are officially all off to school, and I am in my house alone for the first time in over ten years.

I thought, being a generally sappy mom, prone to stalking, suffocation and crying lapses, that I would take this transition hard.

There’s no one cracking up while doing goofy dances for VideoStar. There’s no running through the halls, pounding down the stairs, or racing cars across the wood floors. There’s no one fighting over who likes macaroni the most or who can climb a tree highest. There’s nothing but silence.

No children giggling. No children fighting. No children.

It’s…BEAUTIFUL!!!

I am almost shocked at how thrilled I am with this time to myself. I flip the laundry. La la la. I do some exercise. La la la. I run a few errands. I sit at the computer and write! La la halle-freaking-lujah!

I am so content in my bubble with myself that I have actually turned down lunch with friends. Neither, do I have time to shop. I need to revel in the glory of my silent house; my fingers dancing on the keyboard, an ice cream for lunch. Me. Me. Me.

Maybe soon I’ll grow wistful, but right now, there’s a party in my house. And I’m the only one invited.

No, you can’t join me.

42 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged back to school, enjoy yourself. it's later than you think, mommy time, time for yourself, transitioning back to school. Bookmark the permalink.

I’m not going to write you a love song…

Posted on October 17, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

I’m not going to write you a love song because you asked for one. I’m going to write one, because I want to; because I need to and you deserve one.

Because for close to 25 years, you’ve been with me, supporting me, holding my hand, while allowing me to be me.

Because you’re honest and loyal and still full of the values that first attracted me to you when we were just teenagers; but probably back then it was more about your smile, swagger and the sweetness in your chestnut eyes.

We traveled the ups and downs of college, having a commuter relationship, unable to let go, at a time when we probably were supposed to. But being with you was the best part of my life. How can you let go of the part that makes your heart leap?

In our wayward 20’s, I dragged you around from country to country. You didn’t need it like I did, but you jumped on board and off we flew on one adventure after another. I loved those times, just you and me, with backpacks and without a plan.

Back at home, with the city laid out before us and youth on our side, we chose to hibernate together, playing rummy 500 and snuggling on the couch. There was no one we needed to see. Nothing we needed to prove.

And then came the children we tried so hard for; first in a fun way and then in a not so fun way. And finally, we were blessed, three times, with sons lucky enough to have you as a dad; someone so involved and proud; someone whose greatest day would be spending every moment playing with them.

How lucky we are. How lucky I am. Because I’ve had someone I’ve been happy to see every day for more than half my life. Someone good on the inside and sexy on the outside. Someone who still makes my heart leap, and all it takes is a private little smile and a warm hug.

We started so young, with our whole life before us, and now we’ve spent years living that life, building it up, appreciating it and enjoying it.

You’ve been a part of all stages of me, woven into my heart, so no matter where we go, as long as I’m with you, I’m home.

Circa 1989 to infinity and beyond…

28 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged love, love and marriage, love letters, love songs, relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

I’m in trouble

Posted on October 3, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

They are fighting at the breakfast table.

“I have the most loom bracelets.” My little one brags, even though he doesn’t.

“You do not.” My eight year-old is quick to correct; soggy, Honey Nut Cheerios falling from his mouth.

“Yes I do!” My five year-old insists, holding on tightly to his dignity. It’s a loom eat loom world.

“You don’t!” My eight year old yells, totally agitated. He is the enforcer of justice in the world, except when he’s wrong, then he’ll just scream till you forget what the original argument even was.

“Stop teasing each other,” I reprimand mildly, wiping up the cereal. “And eat.”

“No! I won’t” My boy with the offended morals exclaims. “He’s wrong. Admit it.Tell him, he doesn’t!”

I sigh, heavily, and tell my five year-old that he indeed does not have the most bracelets.

“It would just be nice if you guys wouldn’t make the biggest deals over the smallest things.”

“Now you’re making a big deal over a small thing.” My eight year-old yells.

“Okay, you need to stop yelling.” I’m getting annoyed.

“NO!”

Eight year-old has transferred his frustration onto me and I’m close to transferring mine right back.

“If you don’t, you can go right up to your room.” I am calm. I am in control.

“Ha ha!” My five year-old provokes, with the stinky, little brother face to match.

“You’re so annoying!” Eight year-old shouts, again spitting wet Cheerios on to the table.

I need to put an end to this nonsense. “Okay, stop it right now, or you’ll both go to your rooms!”

At that, my 11 year-old, who had miraculously been minding his own business, snickers.

“What’s so funny?” I huff.

“You. You’re not sending anyone to their room.”

“What do you mean?” His twinkly, smug smile is pissing me off.

“I mean, you let everyone get away with everything.”

“I do not!” I am not so calm. I am not so in control.

“Yeah, you don’t really ever do anything.” My eight year-old pipes in merrily. Nothing like fresh meat to turn the tide.

“Yeah Momma! Yeah momma!” My five year old chants, standing on his chair doing the ‘my momma has no balls’ dance.

They’re all laughing.

Apparently, everyone is getting along just fine now.

Whatever.

I’m going to my room.

He's going to be way better at it than I am.

He’s going to be so much better at it.

22 Comments

Posted in Crap that makes me eat too much ice cream, Uncategorized and tagged consistant discipline, parenting, punishing children, sending children to their room, sibling teasing. Bookmark the permalink.

I lost my edge, but kept my fingers.

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

When I got the email from a friend telling me she had given my name to this college girl who got credit for coming to my house to give a presentation, I thought I was doing someone a favor for school. So, even though it was annoying and it took up a bunch of time I didn’t have, I met with her.

As soon as she started her presentation, I realized I had been suckered. Or, I don’t read my emails carefully enough. Yes, she was a college student, but this was a job, selling high end cutlery door to door through recommendation. Think Avon lady with a knife.

I didn’t want to buy anything, but I could tell I was in trouble. First off, I’m a people pleaser. Second, I’m an idiot and third, I actually needed knives.

She started her schpeel and demo, cutting through a thick rope easily. Before she pulled out the aluminum can, I cut her off. “Listen, I know they’re good knives. Just tell me how much.”

Very smoothly, she rattled off numbers higher than my couch and dining room table combined. I maintained poker face. Oh yeah, I’d consider buying a set knives for a couple of grand. No problem. Was it the leftover cereal bowls and frozen pancakes on the table that gave you the impression I was a top chef?

Instead of showing her the door, I bought four knives for about $250. I know. What was wrong with me? Still, I justified that I needed knives, these were good ones and I’d never buy another knife as long as I lived.

Quickly, I realized how short that would be if I wasn’t careful.

The first time, I pulled a knife from its sheath to inspect it, I thought it looked pretty… dangerous. I turned it over in my hand, and when I looked down again my finger was oozing blood. What? I didn’t even feel anything. Crap.

The second time, I pulled out a knife, I just wanted to make a small tear in a plastic bag I was having trouble opening. This time, I felt it touch my finger, and knew without looking that the bag wasn’t the only thing with a tear. Yup. Gaping, gushing wound.

Bandaged on two fingers, I now assessed the knives skeptically. When my oldest asked for a sliced apple, I stared them down and walked on by. When my middle wanted his sandwich cut, again, I eyed my expensive cutlery but passed it up.

I was afraid of them.

My aunt was third to try a knife. Poor woman made the mistake of wanting a bagel. I said, “I have a serrated knife but it’s verrrrry sharp.”

“Don’t worry.” She said, a little too cavalierly.

“Seriously,” I warned. “Be careful.”

One minute later her finger was gushing. “The knife just touched me.” She said in disbelief.

The next day, I ran into a friend at the supermarket. “What happened to you?” She asked looking at my bandaged fingers.

“New knives.” I said sadly.

“Cutco?” She asked, naming the brand.

“OMG Yes! How did you know?”

She held up a hand with a finger bandaged. “Sliced the top right off. It’s just sort of growing back.”

Those knives were going back immediately.

I may have dull knives, but I am a sharp girl… who likes fingers.

Buh bye, instruments of death.

37 Comments

Posted in Every Day Scoops, Uncategorized and tagged Cutco knives, cutlery, good knives, sharpest knife in the drawer, Top Chef. Bookmark the permalink.

It’s the first day of school. Wish me luck!

Posted on September 9, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

It’s Monday morning.

The first day of school. My two oldest kids have beaten me downstairs and went straight to the Wii for their last hurrah at Power-Pros. I’m making the lunches, and while I work on auto-pilot from the years of packing lunches and snacks, the task still seems somewhat unfamiliar after a long summer.

Did I give enough snack? Did I give too much?

I err on the side of overboard and pack away. Sitting here at 6:40am, I’m tired. Throughout the summer I’ve generally gotten up at 7:30am or so, sometimes earlier to write, but now I feel weary and anxious, with a strange emptiness in my stomach like we’re catching a 5:30am flight. I worry. Do we have everything? Am I prepared? Are they prepared?

First days are always stressful I guess, so I’m happy to hear the happy shouts coming from the basement of the boys engaged in something other than worry.

It’s the first day of middle school for my oldest; a huge school with 1,200 kids, different ‘houses’ and switching classes. The middle school could eat the elementary school. In fact, it has. Its combines five elementary schools in its belly.

It’s the first day of Kindergarten for my youngest, a transition which terrifies me; the new school, the bus, the long day away, all things not only unfamiliar to my child, but unacceptable. Please, please, let him adjust easily.

And it’s the first day of third grade for my middle one, with a teacher I’m just not so sure about.

Worry. Worry. Worry.

And here’s my oldest, up from the basement, head on my lap, saying, “I don’t wanna go to middle school.”

“But it’s going to be so good, honey.” I coo. “You get to do so many new things, meet so many new people. It’s an adventure. You’re going to love it.”

My youngest just walked down from sleep, naked, but for his underwear, ran right into my lap like a warm muffin and broke down crying.

My middle one is now playing music on his iTouch, oblivious to the nerves around him.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

First days are tough, but it’s an adventure. We’re going to do it. It’s going to be okay.

I’m telling them over and over. I’m telling myself.

Yet, I feel like I’m going to throw up. Probably, just like they do.

Except for my middle one, he just asked me to make him macaroni and cheese.

Too cool for school

12 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged anxiety, first day of school, nerves, parenting. Bookmark the permalink.

Well, it’s been a nice summer.

Posted on July 5, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

This morning, I got my two older boys suited up and sun blocked and dropped them off at our local baseball camp. Camp ends at 1pm, and I try to come early to watch a bit of their play, so I’m on the tick tock if I want to get anything accomplished. My youngest, actually hasn’t started camp yet, and is trucking along right beside me. Let’s go kid, chop chop. You wanted camp mommy, you got it.

I’m trying to fit in the gym, run to Payless for swim shoes for my boys and get to the store for sunblock, milk, eggs, toilet paper and cat liter. There are also clothes at the dry cleaners that she might start charging me rent for if I don’t pick them up soon, and a birthday gift that I’m a week overdue on sending.

While I’m rushing around, trying to get it all done, I run into a friend, busy doing the same. Well, sort of the same, she was running from the gym to a manicure appointment. I definitely need to work on my list.

“Can you believe it’s summer?” She asks.

I think about it for a moment. School is definitely out. The graduation ceremonies, picnics, parties and general hoopla is over. Half my town has left for sleep-away camps, but I’m still up early, packing backpacks, making snacks, entertaining, cleaning, schlepping. To me, the idea of summer vacation, instilled 100 years back, is carefree fun and frolic. This is like any other season, but with more sweat.

“Nope. I can’t believe it.” I say.

“We should get together!” She exclaims.

“Totally!” I agree.

“How about next week?”

“Oh, next week isn’t good. The boys won’t be in full day camp till the week after.”

“Hmm. We’re going on vacation that week. How bout the 18^th”

“Baseball. The 24^th?

“It’s camp visiting day. August 4^th?”

“Birthday party.”

August 12^th?”

“Uh…Baseball. How bout August 20^th?”

“Ha. That’s the week, we’re going away.”

We look at each other, with a knowing smile.

“Okay then, see you after we get the kids off to school?”

“Perfect!”

We both head off in our own directions and I mentally add ‘school supplies’ to my over-crammed list.

Where does the time go?

27 Comments

Posted in Every Day Scoops, Uncategorized and tagged summer goes so fast, summer's over, summertime fun, where does the time go. Bookmark the permalink.

If you ask me, brushing your teeth is a gift. My kids prefer money.

Posted on July 2, 2013 by Ice Scream Mama

It hit me today at the dentist while all three boys were in various states of dental distress. My oldest was being cleaned, my middle x-rayed, and my youngest was getting the check-up. They all wore the cool shades that the office provides to shield them from the overhead light, and they all were brain deep into an episode of Scooby Doo playing on the strategically positioned TV. Yet, even with the lollypop flavored toothpaste – hello, irony – when all was said and done, we agreed, going to the dentist just sucks.

It inspired me to probe further to find out other things they hated. And while what I uncovered didn’t exactly surprise me, I was somewhat amazed when I realized that the stuff my kids hate to do is basically the stuff I consider among my favorite things.

They hate…

1. Brushing teeth. Straight from the dentist, it was no surprise this made the list. But, oh contaire dirty mouth little ones, brushing your teeth is not a chore. It’s a pleasure. I am so grateful for the invention of toothpaste. I never understood how anyone could forget to brush their teeth. I mean, don’t they smell themselves in the morning?

If Woody would have brushed his teeth, this never would have happened.

2. Showering. Every night, okay not every night, but most nights, my kids shower or bathe. You would think I was leading them to the torture chamber. They fight who goes first. They cry to put it off. And washing hair? Somewhere in between a major inconvenience and major tantrum. I don’t get it. I mean, I’d never leave the shower if they didn’t come banging on the door because they were hungry, or tired of throwing things at each other.

Come on, bathing! It's swimming with soap!

Come on, bathing! It’s like swimming with soap!

3. Reading. What kind of cretins am I raising? I mean, yes, once I get them into a book or am reading a book to them, they’re generally engaged. But oh, the drama to get them there. You’d think my saying, shut the games and pick a book was like sentencing them to hard labor. Come on, babies, for the love of imagination and exploration and escapism, read, read, read!!

4. Sleeping. “Can we stay up soooo late?” is a frequent request while I’m droopy eyed and cranky longing for my snuggly bed. “We’re not tired!” They chant. And I think, are you f’n kidding me? You’re up at the crack of dawn, racing like ferrets on crack. Can’t they see that the later they stay up, the meaner I get? Also, we paid a lot for those Pottery Barn beds, get in them!

5. Veggies. Apparently, if it’s green it’s gross. Except for those Lucky Charm marshmallows. Anything in a Lucky Charm box is golden. Uh, not that I buy that crap. They must have eaten it at a friend’s house. For me, green is 50% of my diet. I love salads, broccoli, spinach, snow peas, sugar snap peas. You get the idea. Yeah, I’m not telling you the other 50%.

What? It’s pistachio!

Looking back, I see that all five of these dividers are basics of everyday life. The only real differentiating factor between my kids and I is age. So while they might say I’m old, uptight and boring. I say, they’re young, naive and clueless.

We’ll just have to agree to disagree.

It’s only day 2 of the 31 days to a better blog challenge. The challenge? Write a list. I don’t think I can keep this up.

24 Comments

Posted in Uncategorized and tagged 5 things I love, 5 things my kids hate, blogging better, brush your teeth, eat your veggies, make a list challenge, the importance of reading. Bookmark the permalink.

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