The Mrs. Klein Syndrome

When DH and I came to look at a house which we were thinking of buying, a neighbor who shared potentially 'our' driveway came over and greeted us. She was chatty, friendly, kind - a perfect shared-driveway neighbor. She introduced herself as Sarah Klein.

We ended up buying the house and Mrs. Klein brought us quite an expensive welcoming gift ( some china from an overpriced local joint, but nonetheless) and reiterated her welcome. Soon after we moved in, the Kleins built a tall fence for their back yard. I told DH it was to keep our kids out. He said, it was a common thing to built and had nothing to do with our move.

The honey moon lasted for quite a few months. After I had a baby (5 months or so after we moved to the block), Mrs. Klein made us delicious chicken for Friday night. Her husband came to our baby's birthday party.

They were the perfect neighbors, until DH tried to park in the driveway. Mrs. Klein commented that she needs access at all times, so we have to always park inside and they'll park closer to the street. ( they even gave us their car keys, so we can pull their cars our and in whenever we needed to use the driveway).

Then there were the Klein kids, who had a hard time saying hi. Not Mr and Mrs Klein who'd always greet us with a " hello" and " how are you". Mrs. Klein would even be the first one to greet my mom at the grocery store. Our daughters were in the same class in school but play dates were scarce.

The Kleins never invited us for a shabbat meal (and albeit they had weekly psalms reading for the ladies in their house, one of my friends invited me for the readings, not Mrs. Klein) and DH said they have a big family so it's hard to have company on shabbat.

With many gentle signs ( including a 'privacy fence' the Kleins built after we built a deck), in time, even DH realized that the Kleins weren't really happy that we moved in next door. They were delighted that Mr Abdullah moved out (our house's previous owner).

The syndrome fully manifested itself after DH parked his car on our side of the driveway one alternate-side-parking morning. As Mrs. Klein enjoyed parking her car in the middle of the driveway, she was quite tiffed that she had to squeeze into her share of Brooklyn-shared-driveway. She spoke to DH regarding his poor parking skills to which he replied that he parked on his side of the drive way. Mrs. Klein tried to throw her weight around, inluding "do you want to start with me?" bit, which was very out of character for the 'baalat chesed" (charitable woman) reputation she had.

After this, I was convinced that Mrs. Klein baked chala with a bracha, said a book of psalms every day, and had psalm readings in her house because she was superstitious, not righteous. Our lukewarm relationship became cold. But through all this, Mr. Klein would always (and Mrs. Klein frequently) greet us with a harty hello.

I haven't seen Mrs. Klein in over a year. I can't say I miss her. But I've thus far had a privilege of living in the same building with 2 neighbors who, as a family, exhibit the Klein syndrome. The husbands always greet my family with a hearty hello, wives snob me (I'd say 'us' but I guess not greeting my husband can be part of one's religious observance) and seem deaf and mute. Their kids don't play with my kids. The wives end up being popular charitable women in the community (but their charity doesn't extend my family).

I think I have to thank my old neighbor for the great memories. So, as I greeted a local Mrs. Klein this morning and received 1/4 of a smile in return, I remembered the original Mrs. Klein and decided to dedicate a post to her.

We'll miss you, Dr. Sima

Last week, I've done something I do quite often. I fell asleep before the kids did. 45 minutes later, I tried to return to the world of productive adulthood by checking my facebook while still in bed.
After cutesy pins and re-pins, I saw a post that looked like a bad joke. My friend posted that she called Dr. Sima's office to make an appointment and was told that Dr. Sima passed away.
I read and reread the post, suddenly very awake.
Comments on the post seemed to express condolences but I still didn't fully believe it. Dr Sima was young. Well, middle aged young, but still young. She had kids who were a bit younger than me.

I've met Dr SIma 6.5 years ago. The first thing that was very obvious about her - she was very kind. She had a kind face. She was gentle with my baby. She didn't give the aura of Dr-knows-best. Unassuming, compassionate, pleasant and personable.
She always sounded concerned about the welfare of my kids. She always gave them ( and me) the attention we needed, no matter how many patients she had in the office or how late in the day it was.

The news of Dr. Sima's passing filled me with sorrow. And regret. This past summer,  a few times, I wanted to visit her with the kids, just to say hi. But something always came up - no car, a job. I felt there was always next time.
The regret mixed with the guilt that there is no next time is quite unbearable, too. I wanted to go to her with the kids and tell her that we remember her and her kindness, to tell her one more time that she was the best pediatrician we knew. Now I can only tell it to this blog.

Good bye, Dr. Sima. May your memory be blessed.
(Originally written on September 4, 2012)

Sign of the times

A few days ago, my little daughter was playing with her toy phone.  I came closer to ask with whom she is talking.  She said she finished talking with her grandma, and now she is playing a game. She then pointed the phone at me and said "cheese, mommy!".
In case you were wondering, her phone can show cartoons, too.

Another Milestone

You know how you wait, and wait, and wait for something and it doesn't come? So you stop waiting and forget about it. And when it finally comes, you are shocked, not knowing quite what to do with it.

I think that's what happened with Eh and baby teeth. She and her siblings watched Elmo talk about baby teeth and the 'grown up' teeth. They read books about it. They saw their friends and neighbors. I'm sure Eh anticipated a tooth or two falling out (I sure did and talked about it with Eh). But Eh's baby teeth stayed put and we all forgot about them.

Until tonight, when Eh was eating her favorite meal in the world, aka pasta with cheese and ketsup (bah). And all of a sudden she started crying that her tooth was hurting. My first reaction - we didn't do as well with tooth brushing as I thought we did. However when I asked to see which tooth was hurting, I realized it was a FIFO (first in, first out) right buttom tooth. I told Eh excitedly that she was going to lose her baby tooth. And Eh just started crying louder.

In the end, I bribed her by offering to sit in her bed at bedtime, and Eh stopped crying. And thus, a couple of days before her birthday, she got a shaky tooth. Yay!

Qutting Pacies Cold Turkey.

I was thinking about it today, as my kids tried to fall asleep, that it seems somehow unfair that an adult can make a kid quit something cold turkey. Especially when that's something as dear as a pacifier.

Conversely, I thought how nice it may be to 'help' my downstairs neighbor quit smoking or the neighbor down the hallway clean up from all the recreational activities. Just like that, cold turkey. Adult pacifiers are not so easily taken away... But I digress.

A couple of weeks ago I decided that my kids' upcoming 2 week vacation may be a good time to finally get rid of pacies. Because there really isn't a "good" time.

I've done it once, almost 3 years ago. It went pretty smoothly except I misguidedly listened to someone who felt bad for my tiny kids. I felt bad for my tiny kids, too. After all, they were mine. So after a couple of weeks pacy free, we started night time pacies. Except there is no pure night time. There are nap times, and bad mood times, and need to rest times, and defiant times, and just because times...I was waiting for my kids to voluntarily give up the habit. But though one frequently talked about it, the other one didn't want to hear about it. And the time kept ticking. Beginning of school, beginning of Sunday program, long vacation, short breaks, stresses and stressors. No time seems to be good. Then there was the dentist 2 months ago who said they've got to (especially one of them) stop. And a smug 23 year old at work who said she just did it...
Then, quite acceidentally, (who reads school calendars?) I found out that my kids have 2 weeks vacation.

I told both the kids and hubby about the start date. I was dreading it, neither one of the other parties seem to realize what was coming. And when it was bedtime, I recapped my speech about giving pacies to a local charity fund. Then, I politely took away 2 of my son's pacies and one of my daughter's. I kind of had to snatch her spare one, there is no sugarcoating it.

It seemed almost effortless for one of them. S/he said 'yea, I'm ready to give up pacies', reminded me maybe 15 times to give her/him the vitamins ( which normally we both forget), and went to sleep within 10 minutes.

The other one took it hard. First s/he wined. Then pleaded. Then demanded. Then almost threatened (to go and sleep on the couch). Then alternated between all of the above. After about 20 minutes that lasted hours, I manage to find a distruction by counting together first to 20, then to 50, then to 100. The quiet seemed promising. Then I started counting down from 100. And s/he remembered the loss.

The pleading and demanding was pretty hard. It took quite a lot of strength on my part. And this was not the first time I took something away from my child. But there was something so eloguent and desparate in that plea to get the pacy back, that minutes seemed to stretch to no end.

Finally, probably after an hour ( not sure, I lost track of time), hubby came to the rescue, at first quite unaware of all the drama. His presence worked to distract the heartbreaking sobs. After another 10 minutes of small talk and jokes everyone finally fell asleep.

In the morning they woke up the usual 6 AM as if nothing happened. I was waiting for some questions, comments, requests. None came. We survived day #1.

The massacre in Itamar

I find blogging is very much like exercising. You may be doing it fanatically for months, or even years. And then, you somehow break that routine and nothing can motivate you to restart an activity you used to love so much.


Basically, I stopped blogging (and exercising). And though many times I wanted to write a post about whatnots, I couldn't bring myself to sit down and write. And then, a massacre happened in Itamar. Young parents were savagely and cowardly murdered together with their 3 children-11 year old, 4 year old, and 3 month old. And their 12 year old daughter, who came home after a shabbat evening function to discover her parents and siblings murdered.


My heart aches and tears keep filling my eyes. I don't really have the words to describe all the emotions that are flooding me. How does one react to a horrific tragedy like this? What contributes to the anger, grief, shock - an infant and little kids who were slaughtered in their sleep? parents killed together with their young children/infant? Inhuman arab muslims celebrating horrible deaths of innocent Jewish children/family? news media ignoring this tragedy? news media dehumanizing the murdered kids and their parents as 'settlers'? the trauma of the surviving children who saw their mother and father and siblings in pools of blood?


I mourn for the murdered Fogel family as a mother, as a Jew, as a human being.
I know Gd will avenge their blood. And to find some comfort I must remember that we, Jews, are one and Am Yisrael Chai.

Always wear clean underwear

Ok. So this post isn't about underwear at all... Though that's what I thought of at the end of the day. How some people say that their mom's told them to always wear clean underwear when they go outside-just in case something happens and they have to go to a hospital where Not clean underwear would be noticed.


Anyhow. Today was one of those Sundays. The kids woke up a bit too early and by 10 o'clock I realized that if I don't get them out of the house within minutes, bad things would happen to an otherwise good living room.

"Within minutes' resulted in:
Eh wearing a decent outfit with her new sparkly 'special occasion' tights and hair, albeit in a pony with a headband, framing her face a bit wildly;
SiM dressed in matching clean outfit;
Baby wearing *new* turquoise/purple sweatsuit (with cropped pants!), *warm* pink panda socks, *extra warm* bright green jacket;
Self wearing a cute denim skirt (which sadly shrunk over the holiday season resulting in loss of both loss waist button and some of the length), beige t-shirt, and black velvet hat (which thankfully stayed on head with perfect hair coverage).
Favorite sister joined us in her favorite Sunday getup.

We were having fun in the park for about 30 minutes, sister/baby on baby swings, self and big kids on big kid swings. It was decently not crowded and thankfully uneventful (other than Eh's hair became even fluffier and the sparkly tights got one snag).

Then SiM decided to run from 'big kids' crowd to the 'other' :) crowd. And that's how I noticed that favorite sister is talking to someone else. That someone else ended up being a couple (now with child) whom I actually introduced and whom I haven't seen in 4 years.
We were delighted to see each other and meet our new additions.

Amusingly, Baby, who carefully chooses who may and may Not hold her (or even look at her), let my friend hold her and even didn't want to go back to me! Not so amusingly though, my friend pointed out that Baby's thighs were cold and I felt a bit embarrassed explaining that the pants were "cropped" and the socks should be pulled up like knee highs.

And after I went to my car I wondered about the irony of having 47 different headbands and a 8x4 container full of hair clips, pony holders and detangler while my Eh looked like a kid from a Yahoo commercial for hair products (the one before the parent discovered yahoo:)). And the irony of having lots and lots and lots of clothes to dress little Baby and then being caught dressing her in *cropped* sweat pants on a windy day, not to mention the rest of the color scheme. The irony of me telling everyone how much fun it is to dress up girls when in reality, in a crunch, a dressing a boy is a piece of cake. And of course, the fact that if the skirt doesn't fit, Don't wear it!

In the afternoon, I had a pleasure of meeting someone I haven't seen in 6 years. Thankfully, Eh's hair was pretty, Baby was dressed in one of her cute pink outfits with full size pants, and SiM still looked put together. I, on the other hand, still had The skirt on and exchanged the hat that fit for a head scarf which was more comfortable (hopefully, my hair didn't stick out from it like Eh's did in the morning). They were delighted to see me non the less (and unlike me didn't seem to gain 30 lbs).

My 3 loyal readers know that I frequently complain about my minivan because it's a mom-car and it makes me feel like, well, a mom. But not necessarily a glamour mom but a mom whom every sedan and SUV want to pass. A mom who needs to shlep lots of groceries in one hand while shlepping a crying child in another. A mom who hardly sleeps, doesn't have time to take care of herself OR her car... You get the picture.

Well, today I felt in part like a self fulfilling prophet and in part like a lucky woman who just forgot that it Always Pays to Wear Clean Underwear. Well, you know what I mean.

7 teeth!

Yesterday I noticed tooth number 7. Top left incisor - the cutest little white speck sticking out from the gum.
And today, my little bebe took a few crawling on all 4 steps! It's been coming for a while, because she'd assume the quadraped position and then sit ( and crawl like a little worm for locomotion).
Now, she does the all-four 4 step crawl - what can be cuter than that?
And at the end of the day, my girl actually enjoyed her bath (as opposed to howling through it) - something that happened with others but only happened one time ( month 7?) with me...

New Teeth ( different baby:)) and other stuff

In the beginning of last week baby had 2 top teeth (spaced to a baby perfection) and 2 bottom teeth. Then there were 4 days of fever. And this week there Are tooth number 5 (Left top molar - who knew they can come out so early) and tooth number 6 (incisor crowning on the right side of wonderfully spaced top tooth).

Hair is slowly coming out of its hiding and 2 things are quite obvious. Baby is a brunette and she has curly hair (a couple little twirls in the back deserve a picture of their own).

Baby already ate a whole very soft nectarine, watermelon slices, tasted a dry lady bug, and can't have too many Cheerios.

Baby learned to jump and rock by holding on to her crib and she absolutely loves when her siblings join her in this activity.

On this happy note, peace out for now.

The sudden death of my tomato plant

It died quite suddenly. On Saturday morning I noticed wilted leaves thinking the plant is suffering from dehydration. On Sat night I realized someone pulled it out, on Friday.

Is my plant's fate a foreshadowing for my blog?

Gardening, 2010

We finally made it to Home Depot ( again) to buy vegetables. We were there 6 weeks ago to buy some flowers. The veggies weren't bought then because I wanted to buy them at a nursery.

The flowers bought 6 weeks ago didn't even get planted on the little patch of earth which I endearingly call My Front Lawn. But that's a blog post in itself. And tomatoes were just bought today. From Home Depot. Because there's parking on site.

A few minutes ago I proudly unpacked those tomatoes and some other assorted veggies picked out by the kids from the car. Immediately, I decided to immortalize the happy occasion by blogging about it.

I should probably go and water the poor things- after all they sat in a hot car for 5 hours probably thinking that Home Depot environment wasn't that bad after all...And I know that it won't rain (even if they promise 90% chance of that happening), if I'm counting on the rain to save my vegetable plants.

I'm off to water, and take pictures, and pray for another successful gardening year:)

What is love

A couple of days ago SiM told me "Mommy, I love you very much!" Then he added " I love you very much because you buy me a lot of toys!" Too bad hubby wasn't there. I'm sure after hearing SiM, he'd stop saying that our house looks like a mini toy shop.

The best gift of all

I came home with left over birthday cake that my department got for me. And as soon as I walked in the door I told my kids that I bought them some of my birthday cake.
SiM answered "I have something for you, mommy." And he gave me a 20x20 card that said "Happy birthday to SiM's and Eh's mommy" that his teacher made in his playgroup. The card had SiM's and his playgroup buddies scribbles inside as well as birthday wishes from the teacher.

I asked SiM if he made the card in school and he proudly said 'yea!'. And when I called the teacher to tell her how grateful I was for the card and how it touched me, the teacher said "Don't thank me. Your son came to playgroup and said 'today is my mommy's birthday'. I asked him if we should make you a birthday card and he said 'yes'..."

The birthday card SiM gave me is one of the best birthday gifts I ever received.

She tricked me

On Wednesday I tried to be a good mom and took the two older kids shopping with me. We made two stops - supermarket and variety store.

The kids behaved remarkably well in the supermarket - they took turns riding in the front of the shopping card and didn't make any unreasonable demands (the extras included two bags of corn chips and a bag of sour sticks for shabbos party).

They were OK at the variety store, too. They helped me choose dairy and meat plastics for our kitchen table and attempted to buy only one mop. They later requested to ride on some 50 cent cross between a kangaroo and a rabbit and I agreed, seeing how nicely they behaved.

The ride back home was 6 minutes maximum. I think exchanged a couple of sentences with them on the way. Then we arrived in front of our house and I went to unbuckle the kids. To my surprise and disappointment, Eh's fallen asleep. When did it happen? How did I miss it? A kid falling asleep around 5:30PM is nothing but trouble....

I called her by name. No response. I called her again, and rubbed her knee. No response. I called her the third time and rubbed her knee a bit stronger. And that's when Eh started laughing with her eyes still closed!

I was relieved that she wasn't sleeping. But when did my kid get old enough to know that if she pretends to fall asleep (a skill in and of itself) in the car, that may get me going for a bit?

Boo Haman

On Purim night, the kids and I went to shul to listen to the megilah. SiM took along the gragger he made in school. Eh chose to take her wand only.

Both kids enthusiastically booed every time Haman's name was mentioned and SiM shook his gragger. A few minutes later my kids noticed some other kids with lollies and SiM politely asked for a lolly, too. I dispatched Eh to get some lollies from a candy man and a few minutes later, Eh and SiM were multitasking -eating lollies and booing Haman.

What made this blogworthy? After getting his lolly pop, almost without fail, SiM would first shake the lolly, then realize that he was shaking the wrong hand, and start shaking his gragger. After I reminded him of this story today, I'm not sure which one of us was laughing harder -he or I.

memorial board

Today at work while I was waiting for the elevator I glanced at the Memorial Board on the left of it and noticed a name of a man whom I haven't seen in a while. He was a quiet man. He didn't talk much to anybody but he enjoyed his life and his independence. He made an impression on me because he always tried to do everything for himself. He wanted to get dressed by himself, he wanted to eat real food ( not any modified versions of it), he wanted to be able to walk and even make his own bed. Even if it took him 5x the time it would normally take.

Every 3 months or so, this man got sick and had to be hospitalized for another month. But then he'd come back, weak but determined to enjoy his life.

And today I noticed his name on the memorial board. It wasn't even on the very bottom of the board ( the names are placed in chronological order and the board is 'cleared' in the beginning of every month) but towards the top. He passed away a while ago but it became known to the facility only recently. But considerately, his name was still placed on the board.

To quote the Beatles ..." all the lonely people... where do they all belong?"
I wonder if anyone attended his funeral. I wonder if he had one.

Fashionably late

I still remember the days when I used to be punctual. That frequently meant being one of the first (if not the first) on many occasions. For example, coming to an engagement party before the engaged parties, etc. It also meant that I was always on time at work and usually didn't miss my bus, train, or plane. Basically, I knew how to manage my time.

Fast forward a couple of years. I'm so chronically late to work that I had to change my schedule. I now come to weddings by bodeken time (though I aim to come at least 1/2 hour before that) and consider myself lucky if I get to congratulate the bride before the ceremony ( not to mention missing the refreshments:)). And everywhere else? Time became a really fluid concept.

A few days ago my sister made a party which many of our mutual friends/family attended. I had every intention of coming in right on time (I didn't kid myself about coming in earlier and helping to set up). But when the party was beginning, I was still in the process of getting self and kids ready. Long story short, as I was walking in, 3 of my friends with whom I was looking forward to socializing were walking out. By the time I got my act (refreshments on my plate) together, a couple of relatives walked out before I got a chance to move beyond greetings. And albeit I very much enjoyed the party, I wished I timed things a bit better.

So, is there a hope for the return of punctuality? Only time shall tell.

Engagement Parties

The other day I went to an engagement party and here's a quick summary. Almost all of the guests were wearing black ( men and women). A party planner was involved as there were cookies, cakes, flowers, tablecloths, etc. with the same theme/color scheme. There were quite a few beautiful flower arrangements and presents on display in the corner.

Apparently, this was not unique to this engagement party as I've attended another one a few months ago which had similar characteristics ( except there were more colorful clothing choices as it was in the summer). So there is the l'chaim for the family/close friends, the engagement party, the shower, and the wedding. Apparently, if anybody is anybody they are expected to bring ( chip in for) a gift at each step of the way.

When did this become a norm? Is there a trend to give a smaller gift at the wedding which necessitated all the gift giving prior to the happy event? Or was I living in a cave and this has been happening for ages?

Bake Sale

I recently participated in a bake sale. I actually baked a Dunken Hines cake with a couple of added ingredients ( which made me think that the cake qualified as Semi-Homemade). I felt like a Brooklyn Sandra Lee. Until I brought my cake for the sale.

Maybe they didn't hear of Sandra? Or maybe Sandra adds more than just 2 ingredients to her semi-homemade cakes to make them desirable? Who knows. I bought one of my cakes and liked how it tasted. I was also inspired by all the other baked good there to start baking again, like I did in my younger days.

Hope this inspiration will lead to something tasty. I'll keep you (and me) posted:)

A Clueless moment

The other day I joined a couple of my coworkers for lunch. For some inexplicable reason, I asked one of the of the aides ( non-professional as per immigration standards) on which visa she came to the states. She explained that one of her family members petitioned for her. Then we talked about various visas, and I mentioned something about her and her home country of Ecuador. The conversation lasted a few more minutes and then lunch was over.

An hour or so later, I saw the aide again and all of a sudden it clicked. She was not from Ecuador but from El Salvador. Someone else in our lunch group was Ecuadorian. I pointed out my mistake to her and the Ecuadorian lady and asked why neither one of them corrected me. While they said that Ms Ecuador was smiling the whole time during lunch at my error, they didn't really explain why I wasn't corrected.

This incident reminded me a scene from Clueless where Cher told her housekeeper that she didn't speak Mexican. The housekeeper got upset and Cher's brother? had to remind her that the housekeeper is from Ecuador, not Mexico.

And though I found this incident amusing, I still ask myself - Why Didn't they correct me?