Matzah Mush of a Mind

April 23rd, 2008 § Comments Off on Matzah Mush of a Mind § permalink

Some weeks I really have nothing to say, and I have to scramble for something to write. This week there’s plenty to write about, and I’m still scrambling for something to write, because Adam’s at the Red Sox game, which means I had to put the kids to sleep. I have no patience for putting the kids to sleep. None. Because the ritual goes on and on and on and on…

Today broke 80 degrees. Our house is quite warm. And still Pie needs her slippers, her vest, and her sweater on. Hood up, please. Where are her mittens? Is her watch in her pocket? She needs more trains to sit on the heater next to her. Wipes! She needs two wipes. On the heater. Why? I have no clue. Oh, what! She needs to use the potty. And–damn!–the look of pure sinister when she actually does pee. Finally, she goes to bed. But the whole process takes about forty-five minutes at the end of the day, when I’m done. I mean done. So all rational thought has left me and it’s Passover, which means I can’t even indulge in a little M&M; therapy. Matzah therapy? Just not quite the same ring to it.

[Note: Blogger seems to be having some issues posting images tonight–they’ll be here tomorrow]

Hooked

April 16th, 2008 § Comments Off on Hooked § permalink

Okay, you people. I joined Netflix again (and I’m not sure how this works but this apparently “friends” me), just so I could watch the flicks you’ve recommended. So far, so good… Ushpizin? Loved! Next on deck: Wordplay and Juno.

Stop the Presses

April 16th, 2008 § Comments Off on Stop the Presses § permalink

That’s it. I must be done. I have nothing left to say because my biggest source of material is no longer cooperating. I don’t see how I can continue this blog after this exchange from the other night.

Adam: Time for you to go to bed, Pie!
Pie: Okay. I need to use the potty.
Adam: Really?
Pie: I need to use the potty.
Adam leads her to the bathroom. In a timely fashion, Pie pees in the potty.
Adam: Ready for bed now?
Pie: Yep.
Adam: Let’s go say good night to Mommy.
Me: So, no crying tonight, okay. Pie?
Pie: Okay.
Me: Okay what?
Pie: Okay. No crying.
Adam starts to take her up the stairs. Midway up she stops.
Pie: Wait! Mommy, one more smooch.
[Smooch]
Pie: And a hug.
[Hug]
Pie: Okay. Goodnight, Mommy. I love you!
Me: I love you, too, Pie.
Pie goes up to bed. Calls us a couple of times, but not a single tear.

Look, did you see that? Out your window? Yep, pretty sure that was a pig flying by.

Thanks for the Memories

April 16th, 2008 § Comments Off on Thanks for the Memories § permalink

So Robin is encouraging her fellow bloggers to write a post today, Blog Reader Appreciation Day, in honor of their readers. She pinged me to give you guys a shout out and to thank you for sticking with me.

Well… c’mon folks. You’ve been with me long enough to know that that’s not really going to happen is it? It’s more like:

  • thanks for making me drag my sorry ass to the computer when I really didn’t feel like it, because I knew if I didn’t, there’d be harassing e-mails in my in-box on Thursday
  • thanks for putting up with me (particularly Carly, Kara, Meg, Beth, and Steffanie) when I alienated just about every other HBS spouse in the school
  • thanks for spying in on every inane conversation. every moronic act of bravado, and every insipid thought that passed through this obviously genius brain of mine
  • thanks for witnessing the fact that my husband isn’t the put together, brilliant, almost-young manager his company seems to think he is, as you’ve heard every inane, insipid, and moronic thing he does
  • thanks, in advance, for backing up my kids when they go to their therapists to complain about our parenting (too many incidents to link to here)

So, yes, all you people, a big fat thank you. Or not. Whatever.

The Return of the CWITs

April 16th, 2008 § Comments Off on The Return of the CWITs § permalink

One of my all-time favorite CWITs, Kara, was back in town this past weekend. I know it’s hard to remember that I did indeed have a life before my children, but I did, and she was one of the few Boston folks to experience it. We met up at Diesel for coffee, and while she still retains a twinge of her CWIT self, she distressed me greatly by “liberaling” up. She recycles! She buys local! She–gasp!–isn’t supporting the same Republican her husband had been supporting. But luckily she’s still gorgeous, still had the charming Texan accent, and still has the potential of being a trophy wife extraordinaire so there’s still hope for her. And she promised to stay more regularly in touch, although after this post, she may change her mind.

Ah, Kara, I’ll love you no matter what. Even when you’re the first lady. I can’t wait to play Billy Carter to your Pat Nixon. I mean, Nancy Regan. I mean… Oh, never mind. (Anyone else read this who’s old enough to remember Billy Carter?)

Good Mommy

April 9th, 2008 § 1 comment § permalink

Adam questioned my parenting techniques. Was it “irresponsible” or “idiotic”? Can’t remember. He seems to think it isn’t a good idea, when it’s an hour past your child’s bedtime and said child announces, “I’m tired,” to then crank up the iPod, hand the kid a drum, and yell at him, “No! Sleep! Till! Brooklyn!”

To my credit, he did rally. The kid that is. Not Adam. And Pie? She never let them see her sweat. She grabbed the guitar, started hopping up and down, singing right along. “Dance, Mommy!” she screamed over the music. I picked her up and did the mommy version of the mosh pit. I yelled, “Are you going to be a party girl, Pie?” and she yelled back, “Yea!” Finally, a child I can identify as my own!

To preschool folks reading this, don’t be surprised when Pie shows up to school, bags under her eyes, yelling, “I’ve got to fight! For my right! To par-tay!”

Rock on, little kiddies. Rock on!

Shabbat Dinner at Our House

April 9th, 2008 § Comments Off on Shabbat Dinner at Our House § permalink

Ah, Shabbat. Every Friday night, Jews all over the world share a peaceful moment with their families as they welcome in Shabbat. Now, we’re not very observant Jews. We don’t observe the laws of Shabbat. But like many American Jews, we end each Friday with a celebratory meal. Giving of tzedakah. Candle lighting. Blessing of children. Grape juice for the kids, wine for the grown-ups. Homemade hallah (and I have a kick-ass recipe). A lovely, special home-cooked meal, always chicken (and if I decide to deviate, Pie, very agitated, will demand all night, “Where’s the chicken!”). A song or two. In our house, it’s the one night of the week the kids get a dessert after dinner, Shabbat cookies, which they pick out themselves in the afternoon at our local farm stand. All in all, the Shabbat dinner is a lovely tradition and a way to bring Shabbat peace into the house.

Or, at least, that’s what in theory is supposed to happen.

Pie: I want my Dora harmonica!
Me: Okay. Here’s your Dora yarmulke.
Pie: No, I want Lightening McQueen! No, I want a grown-up harmonica! Give me that one. You wear Hello Kitty.
Me: Okay, I’ll wear the Hello Kitty one.
Doodles: Where’s my quarter? I can’t find my quarter! I need my tzedakah!
Adam: It’s right there under your napkin.
Doodles: Oh. Can I shake the tzedakah box?
Pie: Daddy wear the purple harmonica. My harmonica is falling off!
Me: I’ll pin it.
Pie: No! Do it self!
After a three-minute struggle.
Pie: Mommy, put on my harmonica!

Time to start.
Me: What song shall we sing tonight?
Pie: The train song!
Me: Okay.
Me, Pie, Doodles, Adam: There’s a train that goes from town–
Pie: NO! You don’t sing. Just me and Doodles.
Kids sing three lines. Forget words. Look to me for help.
Time to say the blessing over the candles.
Doodles: How does fire get into the match? Why isn’t the candle lighting? Is that candle broken? But how does the fire get into the match?
Adam explains sulfur and striking and all sorts of fun stuff while I struggle to get the candles lit.
Doodles: Okay. But how does the fire get into the match?

Go to bless the children.
Doodles: You blessed her first last time!
Adam: No, actually, I distinctly remember we did you first last time because we were at the synagogue Shabbat dinner. Remember?
Doodles: Oh. I should go first anyway.
Pie picks her nose while we bless her.

Finally we make it through all the blessings. Dinner is served.
Me: Doodles, get your fork out of your nose. Sit down. On your tushie. Pie, that’s broccoli. You love broccoli.
Pie: Don’t like broccoli!
Me: Fine. Don’t eat your broccoli. But eat one of those little trees on your plate, wouldja?
Pie: Okay! [eats broccoli]
Me to Doodles: Eat your dinner.
Doodles: I think I’m going to throw up.
Me [having heard it before]: Go to the bathroom to throw up, please.
Doodles hops down and runs to the bathroom.
Doodles calls out: Can you turn on a light?
Adam does so. After five minutes:
Adam: Why are you taking so long?
Doodles: Now I’m going potty!
After a few more minutes:
Me: Don’t forget to wash your hands.
Doodles: I *am* washing my hands!
Adam: Did you flush?
Doodles: Ooops! I forgot to wipe and my pants are already up.
Adam goes to remedy the situation. Returns to the table.

Adam: So, Pie, what did you do today?
Pie: What? No. Tell me about your day.
Adam: I already did. What did you do?
Pie: I went to school. I played dress-up shoes.
Me: What did you have for snack today?
Pie: What? I had Jasmine’s snack.
Me: What was it?
Pie: What? Jasmine’s snack.
Me: But what did you eat?
Pie: Oh. Cucumber. And…. Cucumber.

Me: Doodles, sit. On your tushie. Facing the table. Do you want to be excused before Shabbat cookies?
Pie: Can I have my Shabbat cookie?
Me: Not till everyone’s done eating.
Pie: I want my Shabbat cookie.
Me: Eat your chicken. Doodles, SIT!

Adam: What did you do after nap today?
Pie: What? What? What?
Adam: What did you do after nap today?
Pie: What? [pause] What?
Me: We did something after nap today. What was it?
Pie: Ice skating?
Me: No.
Pie: Um, playground?
Me: No.
Pie: What? What? What? [leans in closer to me and whispers] What?
Me: [whispering back] Did someone come over today?
Pie: [whispering to Adam] Someone came over today.
Adam: Who?
Pie: What? Um, Jasmine.
Me: No.
Pie: E.?
Me: No.
Pie [whispering again]: What?
Me: D and G.
Pie: D! And G!

Doodles waves his hands wildly, coming perilously close to the candles.
Me: You know how you knocked over the iPod player this morning?
Doodles: Yeah.
Me: Remember how angry I got?
Doodles: Yeah.
Me: Knock those candles over and I’ll be even angrier.
Doodles: Why?
Me: Well, you knock this over, you could set the house on fire.
Doodles: But that’s okay. The firemen will come.
Me: Maybe not in time.
Adam: And then all your toys would burn up.
Me: Like your Leapster! And your Legos.
Pie: [gleefully] And my microphone?
Me: Yep.
Pie: The blue one?
Me: Yep.
Pie: And the pink one?
Me [thinking, What pink one?]: Yep.
Pie: And the white one?
Me [thinking, Okay, there’s definitely no white one]: Yep.
Pie: Okay.

Doodles: Is it time for Shabbat cookies?
Me: Eat your dinner.
Pie: Is it time for Shabbat cookies?
Me: Doodles needs to eat his dinner.

Pie, playing with the food on the plate: Who made this?
Me: I did.
Pie: Thank you.
Me: You’re welcome.

Doodles: I finished my vegetable. Can I have my Shabbat cookie?
I hand out Shabbat cookies. Doodles devours his. Pie takes two bites and then eats some more chicken.

Two hours later, the kids are in bed. Probably asleep. Can’t tell for sure. I kill off the bottle of wine. Sink into a comatose stupor. Swear I’m not going to bother with the trouble next week. Somehow forget that by the time the next Friday rolls around. Wait for the peace to hit. Wait for the peace to hit. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting….

Busy, Busy, Busy

April 2nd, 2008 § Comments Off on Busy, Busy, Busy § permalink

This past week has to have been one of the busiest ones yet. I feel like it was nonstop, and I’m not ready to collapse in a heap at my computer. What have I done? It’s all a big blur.

Adam had a night out with friends, I had a night out with friends (hi Elizabeth! It was fun!), I had (have) a job I’m working on, a preschool project that I got suckered into doing, a family Shabbat dinner, a meet-up with a fellow blogger whom I’d never met before but was in Boston for a conference, a women’s community Passover seder (no Passover hasn’t started–this was a fun, feminist version that involved many tambourines). Throw in some boot camp, a bit o’ running, and a zillion chores (dentist appointment? Made. Eye doctor appointment? Made. Camp for Doodles? Taken care of. Car inspection? Done.) and that’s what I’ve been up to.

Oh, and our little trip to New York. But this time for a day. Eight whole hours. Yes, I know how fun that sounds. Surprisingly it was incredibly uneventful and actually quite a success. I almost hesitate to blog about it, because nothing untoward happened.

After not nearly enough sleep, I roused myself from slumber at 5:30 on Saturday morning. Slapped together some sandwiches, woke the rest of the family, and we were on the road by 6:15 a.m. The purpose of the trip was dual fold: My mom has a show up right now at Nohra Haime Gallery (that’s it on the walls and on the table in the pic; if you’re in NYC go see it–it’s up till April 26) and there was a breakfast at 9 a.m. and we thought it would be fun to go to. And then the other reason is it was my dad’s birthday (random aside: did anyone else realize that when your parent’s age equals the year of your birth, your age will equal the year of his or her birth; so for instance, my dad turned 68. I was born in 1968. And this year I’ll turn 40. My dad was born in 1940. Try it–it works).

We made the trip in 3 1/2 hours, having parked and made our way to the gallery by 10 a.m., and my father was dutifully surprised. We spent the morning at the Children’s Museum of Manhattan, which was cute but nowhere near the level of the Boston Children’s Museum. We had a fabulous deli lunch at Artie’s (it’s the kind of place that has pickles and slaw on the table for you a la Wolfie’s), kids got their subway rides, and then hung out at my parents place. I walked around a bit, hit a flea market. We had cakes from Citarella. At about 6:30 p.m., we put kids in pjs and headed home. Both kids were passed out before we left the Bronx. We were home by 10 p.m.

I wish there was more to tell you. I wish we’d had a meltdown or two or Pie peed somewhere or something, but it was such a manageable trip, I’d consider doing it again.

From the Mouths of Babes, the Ongoing Saga

April 2nd, 2008 § Comments Off on From the Mouths of Babes, the Ongoing Saga § permalink

Me: Doodles! I told you! Stop throwing balls in the house!
Doodles: But Pie is doing it.
Me: Pie shouldn’t be doing it either. But you’re older and you know better.
Doodles: But Pie is telling me to throw balls. And I’m listening to her. Because she’s my sister. And I love her.

At the YMCA, while changing out of swimming suits.
Pie, loudly, pointing finger out at another girl: Look, Mommy! She has a v*agina just like me!

The gate is closed on the kids’ bedroom door. They’re both exhausted and refuse to go to sleep. Pie cries. Doodles resorts to Rickey Henderson methods:
Doodles: Dad! It’s Doodles calling! He needs some more water. Okay?

I’m making a hummus on pita sandwich for Doodles.
Pie: What are you spreading on his p*enis?

Pie: Mommy, cuddle me!
Me: Okay, sweetie!
Lots of snuggling. I even sneak in a few smooches.
Me: Ooh, who’s my favorite Pie Pie? Who’s my favorite little girl?
Pie: Me!
Me: And who’s your favorite mommy?
Pie [with great big, soft, baby eyes looking up at me]: Daphne! Daphne is my favorite mommy! [Daphne is her friend A’s mother]

Just this afternoon, we saw the mom and daughter playing outside, so we went over to play. I’m talking to the mom. Pie runs over from the swing set, with a big grin on her face.
Pie: Mommy?
Me: Yes, Pie?
Pie: Mommy, go home! Go home now!

It’s good to be loved.

My Week in Lists

March 26th, 2008 § 1 comment § permalink

Random things said to children on a Sunday night:
Pie, we don’t put artichoke leaves on our ears. Pie, seriously. Pie, get the artichokes out of your ears now! Pie, you can’t hide artichoke leaves in your hair, either. Pie!

No, Pie, you cannot sleep with your shalach manot.

Me: Doodles, you can’t celebrate both Purim and Easter. You have to pick just one.
Doodles: Okay. I’ll celebrate Easter.

Questions asked in the car on one thirty-five-minute ride from home to ice skating:

  • Why does your shadow follow you?
  • Why do babies wake up at night?
  • Why do moms wear bras?
  • What is that song about? [Song on radio: “Cruel to Be Kind”]
  • Why is the world going to stop and melt? [Song on radio: “I’ll Stop the World and Melt with You”]
  • Why did the pharaohs get buried in the pyramids the Jewish slaves built?
  • How do they make the pointy part on the top of the pyramid?
  • Why do people die in boxes?
  • Then who puts them in boxes?
  • Some cars, they have DVD players in them, in the top, and the kids can watch them when they are in the car. Why don’t we have a car like that?

Thing on shopping list that Adam insisted the Shaw’s didn’t carry:
Paper towels made out of recycled paper

The thing I bought three packs of the next day at Shaw’s–on special! Buy one, get two free:
Paper towels made out of recycled paper

My week in Facebook status updates:

  • Jenny is eating all of her daughter’s “potty treats.” Good thing there’s no danger of her daughter using the potty anytime soon. 3:12pm
  • Jenny is not sure where she’s going to come up with a 4T sized king costume by 4 p.m. tomorrow…. 5:27pm
  • Jenny can freakin’ work miracles. 1:11pm
  • Jenny is making an–ack–princess potty chart. 11:41am
  • Jenny is laughing at Adam for not realizing that the “C” in YMCA meant it would be closed on Easter Sunday. 7:08am
  • Jenny can’t believe the things she obsesses about. 11:27pm
  • Jenny would rather be in Paris. Cafe au lait anyone? 5:19am

Things that surprise Adam:
Pie: I want a Cinderella coloring sheet!
Adam: Look, there’s one!
Pie: That‘s not Cinderella! That‘s Snow White!
Adam to me: She knows the difference between Cinderella and Snow White?!?

My typical Tuesday:

  • Argue with Pie about getting into the car.
  • 8:45 a.m. Argue with Pie about dropping Doodles off at school. No she cannot stay in the car by herself.
  • Argue with Pie about holding hands crossing the street to go to singalong.
  • Contemplate a detour to the orphanage.
  • 10: 15 a.m. Tell Pie she can’t order her friend, A, to dance with her, no matter how much Pie wants to dance with A and only with A.
  • Tell Pie that no, A’s mother cannot take Pie to the muffin shop because I am going to take Pie to the muffin shop.
  • Lose Pie’s shoe in the street on the way to the muffin shop, but don’t realize that’s why she’s screaming because she’s always screaming.
  • Sheepishly remove shoe from street when a trucker yells to me, “Hey, your daughter lost her shoe.”
  • Notice teenlike smirk on Pie’s face.
  • Tell Pie that she has to come home with me, she cannot go home with A and her mother.
  • Argue with Pie about how many pieces her muffin should be cut into.
  • Consider letting Pie go home with A and conveniently “forgetting” to pick her up–for a week or two.
  • Reassert with a little less conviction that Pie has to come home with me.
  • Argue with Pie about taking juice into the car.
  • Noon: Pick Doodles up from school.
  • Argue with Pie about lack of snack provided a mere twenty minutes after her juice and muffin.
  • Drive an extra twenty minutes to make sure Pie falls asleep.
  • Relax with Doodles. Read a book. Play some Legos. Have lunch. Take a brief nap.
  • 2:30 p.m. Pie wakes up. Change Pie. Feed Pie. Appease Pie. Pie Pie Pie Pie Pie.
  • Take kids to swimming class.
  • Sit alone for thirty glorious minutes.
  • 5 p.m. Take kids to “Tasty Tuesday” at Whole Foods.
  • Try to shush kids as they scream at the top of their lungs, “LOOK! THERE’S ANOTHER SAMPLE! GO, MOMMY, GO!!”
  • Get out of Whole Foods with just two $97 bags full of groceries.
  • 6:20 p.m. Get kids in bath.
  • Argue with them about bubbles. “No bubbles!” insists Doodles. “BUBBLES!” insists Pie.
  • Let them play/fight in the tub.
  • Tolerate screaming while hair is washed.
  • 6:45 p.m. Adam walks in. Hand over kids half bathed and hide in the office.
  • Wonder if Adam could function if I decided to take the summer off to travel and do something that’s easier than dealing with Pie, like cure cancer or end poverty.
  • Spend one and a half hours trying to cajole Pie into bed.
  • Kids sleep. I zonk.
  • 9 p.m. Miss the kids. Consider waking them so I can cuddle with them.
  • 9:01 p.m. Adam blocks stairs to keep me from making huge mistake.
  • 11:45 p.m. Go to bed after working on top-secret preschool project that is taking way more time than I would have thought.
  • 11:57 p.m. Set alarm for 5 a.m. Boot camp tomorrow!

Evidence Pie is ready for college:

  • She prefers her pizza cold
  • She’s up at all hours
  • She finds bodily functions hilarious
  • You can’t get that girl off her cell phone
  • She’s a little cliquish
  • She’s perfected the eye roll
  • She binge eats
  • She’s got the moves

Watch out Dartmouth U Mass Middlesex Community College Blaine Beauty School!

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  • Who I Am

    I read, I write, I occasionally look to make sure my kids aren't playing with matches.

    My novel, MODERN GIRLS will be coming out from NAL in the spring of 2016.

    I mostly update the writing blog these days, so find me over there.

    More about me and my writing.

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    jenny at jennyandadam.com


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  • Who I Am

    I read, I write, I occasionally look to make sure my kids aren't playing with matches.

    My novel, MODERN GIRLS will be coming out from NAL in the spring of 2016.

    I mostly update the writing blog these days, so find me over there.

    More about me and my writing.

  • Where to Find Me

    jenny at jennyandadam.com


    Instagram

    Follow Me on Pinterest

    Goodreads

    Writing Blog: Jennifer S. Brown

    Photo Blog: jPhone Jenny

  • Meta