Watch your mouth

I was driving with the kids on one of narrow local streets when suddenly the car in front of me stopped. Just like that, in the middle of the road. I patiently waited as, apparently, the driver had to receive something from an apologetic-looking pedestrian. Then the car continued standing in the middle of the street.

I'm all for stopping if and when needed but kindly move to a side! So, I honked. The car moved forward a bit and stopped. I honked again, a bit longer, more inpatient honk. The car inched forward again. BUT not to either one of the sides. Then I just didn't let go of the horn. It was passed kids' bedtime, I felt exhausted and annoyed. MOVE!

Finally, the car inched a bit more AND slightly to the left. And I was finally able to squeeze by. When I was finally able to see the driver (some oblivious local woman of unidentifiable age) I yelled into my closed window "Move over!" and then against my better judgement but with lots of emotion "Stupid!".

Then we stopped by a red light and Eh asked " what did you say mommy?"
"I told the car to move over so we can pass..." I answered hoping that my Jewish instrumentals were loud enough during my 'conversation' with a fellow motorist.
"Why did you say that?"
"I wanted her to move over so we can pass..."
"Why?"
"I just wanted to pass..."
"Why did you say 'stupid'?"

Oops... "It was a mistake. I'm sorry. I said 'stupid' by mistake..."

In response, Eh just laughed.

First day in summer camp

For a few months, when SiM, together with the babysitter, took Eh to her 'school', he asked to stay there. But, every time SiM was told that he was too young and would have to come back next year. Subsequently, when asked, he'd always say " I go cool [school] next year".

All this, and SiM's enjoyment of company of his peers and Eh's friends, made me sign him up for summer day camp.

The whole last week SiM enthusiastically talked about going to school ( as the camp was presented to SiM). This morning, SiM asked to get dressed right away, before breakfast. As soon as I packed his little knapsack, he asked me to put it on him [mommy, how you put this?], and thus, he proudly walked around the house. He even wanted to be changed with his knapsack on.

On the way to camp, every time I asked if SiM is excited about going to gan (camp), he eagerly answered yes. When we approached the camp, I told him that he'll have to say bye to me, his sister, and the babysitter and be in camp by himself. He obliged by saying bye to all of us and started up the stairs to the camp by himself. When we walked in he looked slightly cautious but still optimistic. I showed the counselor where his mitzva note and $ for tzdaka were. Then, a counselor picked SiM up and started carrying him away. My kid gave our a horribly loud 'mommy' and optimism was instantly replaced with fear.

As I quickly walked away with my baby desperately calling me in the background, my heart sank and thoughts that maybe he's too young for camp, etc rushed to my head. Eh asked why SiM cried and I calmly explained that it takes a while for a person to get used to new things.

When it was Eh's turn to go to camp, I stayed with her for ~5 minutes ( and the babysitter for another 15) so she can warm up to the place. Then, resisting the temptation x2 to check on SiM, I went to work.

When I came home, I asked the kids if they enjoyed camp today. Both answered with a happy yes. Eh reported that she met one of her 'classmates' in camp and though she enjoyed swimming, one of the pools had cold water in it.

When asked what he did in camp, SiM answered " I meet new friends." Big sister also asked him if he cried a lot. 'No. I cried a teeny tiny bit." Whew. I guess he is ready for camp after all.

Why I shouldn't blog in the evenings

The lights are on but nobody's home. For quite some time now I've been so fatigued (though not SO fatigued as to go to sleep before 11ish PM) that I felt I can't write anything decent, or even 1/2 decent. But I didn't want to forget some of the things that I wanted to write about so I saved them as drafts.

A few evenings ago I felt more awake than usual and decided to make one of the drafts a post. But all I did was change the title. Then I realized I'm in no writing shape, so I closed the computer and went to do something else.

The following morning I had the following conversation with a friend:
F: Your short post generated comments.
I: Which post?
F: From last night.
I: Facebook update?
F: Blog.
I: The birthday one?
F: Wedding.
I: ( In disbelief and a bit horrified) That was a draft and I didn't publish it!
F: Well, it got two comments already...

I rest my case.

Should I care

went to a friend's wedding. was disappointed to see some old 'friends'

My baby's a big boy

For a few weeks now, my 'baby' became a 'big boy'.

"Are you my baby?"

"No, I big boy!"

"You little monkey?"

"No, I big boy."

"What's your name?"

"Big boy...(though he knows his first, middle, and last name)"

Being a big boy comes with certain privileges - using the potty, eating cereal with milk, wearing pjs without feet:) However, I didn't introduce the idea of a 'big boy' bed as my big girl made me realize that the longer a kid stays in the crib, the more chances you have of sleeping with fewer interruptions...

My big boy turned 2 a few days ago. He liked the presents hubby and I got for him. But I think he appreciated more the presents he got from his grandmas.

For SiM's birthday 'party' we went to the Prospect Park Zoo where SiM fed and petted the goats and the sheep, and even milked a cow:) The birthday celebration concluded with eating of SiM's birthday cake (supplied by grandma) and SiM loving the cake and tasting the candle.

My baby is already two...

The new cat on the block

I don't know about you, but I pretty much know all the stay cats who roam near my house. I even used to feed them my cholent (until I saw 2 huge raccoons in my backyard in January).

A couple of weeks ago I noticed a newcomer. He was different from all other cats-very scrawny, with dull looking fur. He looked so pitiful, I put out some gifilte fish that night. And every time I saw him, I felt pity for him.

Yesterday, while my sister and I were sipping tea on my 'front porch', I saw the new cat pass by. He became a topic of our conversation and suddenly my sis put words to my feelings. This cat looked so pitiful and disturbing because even stray cats here, in America (Brooklyn?) look well fed.

Something good to keep in mind before complaining about tough economic times...

An antisemite next door...

I've been patronising the local nail salon for the past few years. I even know the names of the owner and a couple of the workers and wave hi to them whenever I just pass by.

Today, I came home early enough to pick up Eh and go for a mommy-and-me manicures. While in there, I decided to 'shape' my eyebrows as well. And right before my turn some teenage Jewish girl (or was she possibly in her 20s) paid $14 worth of services with a credit card. The owner made a big deal about that transaction -'we get 85c from dollar, next time bring cash', etc.

I thought that in such cases she shouldn't accept credit cards and followed one of the 'cosmetologists' to the back to get my eyebrows done. A couple of minutes later, apparently as soon as the credit-card-paying-girl walked out, the owner said "$14 pay with credit card, less tip. should bring cash. Jewish!" and some patron (later observed to be of African descent) responded " yea, that's how they get rich..." The conversation continued in the same tones for a few minutes.

I asked the cosmetologist taking care of my eyebrows, who also serviced the credit-card-paying-girl, if she wasn't tipped by the girl. And unless I grossly misunderstood the thick accent, she was tipped, from the same credit card. I also mentioned to her that the conversation in the front 'was not nice'. To her credit, the cosmetologist looked embarrassed.

As soon as I was released from the eyebrow shaping, I took my kid by the hand (who the whole time patiently waited to have to nails polished), paid for my eyebrows in cash ( leaving a cash tip for self and the kid before me), said that I no longer wish to paint mine or my daughter's nails in that place, explained to the owner in one G-rated sentence why I was leaving, and left.

I learned from a very young age that my nation is not a popular one. But until today, I still cannot believe the extent of stupidity of those displaying their dislike of my people...