Have you ever had someone in your life who you think wants to be JUST like you. Who buys the same clothes as you, decorates her house like yours, starts talking like you, listening to the same music as you, even their mannerisms start imitating yours? Yes? Wow you think you’re pretty cool don’t you? ;0 I’ve never had a friend like this but I DO have a daughter like this. And it’s weird. Creeps me out at times actually because she literally does or wants to do and say everything like me. And I KNOW I’m not the only mom out there with this predicament (may it be good or bad). Everything I say or do gets thrown right back at me by this little thumb sucking clone of mine.
Monthly Archives: September 2009
My husband is the one who remembers everything. He actually can freak people out with his memory, being able to recollect the smallest detail of the first time he met them or where he had seen them in the past. I usually stand by as he’s introduced to someone and I see the glimmer in his eye as he realizes that 15 years ago he had met them at a beer fest in Nowheresville. And I’ll roll my eyes thinking “oh here we go…” as I hear him asking them things like, weren’t they wearing a navy shirt and white shorts when they met? And didn’t they have a younger sister who had gone to Peduka U? And wasn’t their favorite food sardines but they had had an allergic reaction to sardines and spent most of the evening throwing up at the beer fest? And hadn’t their hair been a lighter shade of auburn? Yes, he has a fantastic memory (for totally unimportant things). I usually don’t remember all the details. I don’t recall faces quite as easily or know what movie theater we saw our first movie together in. I don’t remember what football team won two Columbus Days ago.
“Keep the mouse in the house”. It’s a saying that can make anyone laugh if referring to the embarrassing situation when you just can’t help but notice that a guy’s weiner is in full view when he’s sitting inappropriately with his legs spread. Or when it’s peeking out of his boxer shorts. You try to cover your eyes but you just HAVE to look. Well, I can say for sure that this little saying ONLY applies to penises. And I can say that because I have a mouse in my house and I would prefer to not keep him here.
OK add being a “bad Jew” to my already confirmed “bad mommy” self description. Apparently, it really is possible to be a bad Jew. At least that’s the way the receptionist at the temple that I just got off the phone with made me feel. The High Holidays are approaching. These are the holidays that are the most religious and most “important” on the Jewish calendar. Many of you “non-Jews” might think that Chanukah is the biggest Jewish holiday since it coincides (close) to Christmas but honestly, I believe Chanukah only became a big deal to make us poor Jewish kids feel better during all of the hoopla of Christmas and allow us to get gifts too. The High Holidays include Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur which are the Jewish New Year and the Day of Atonement. Unfortunately the New Year is not quite the champagne drinking, streamer-strewn occasion as 12/31 (at least in my family)… it’s more of a nice family dinner and day off from work. But, lucky me, Yom Kippur allows me to scream I’M SORRY for all the naughty things I’ve done all year and let me start with a clean slate. Oh, and I can’t eat for 24 hours or the I’M SORRY won’t be heard. It’s an excellent way to lose a quick pound or two if you can deal with the dizzies and pounding headache. Thankfully, Yom Kippur falls AFTER Rosh Hashanah so that I can booze it up for the New Year and make it a whooping good time without any repercussions because I can say I’M SORRY 10 days later.
I’m back. For better or for worse. I’m back. In some ways it felt like forever that we were gone – in a different house with different stairs, different beds, different showers, different coffee pot (you can see what was important to me)… just DIFFERENT. In some ways, the 10 days flew. I can’t believe I’m back in my “spot” on the couch already. Back to reality. It’s not like I really left reality on this trip since the same issues arose 2 hours north on the shore as they do here in the woods. Same whining. Same bickering. Same tantrums. Same sleepiness. But somehow, 2 hours north on the shore, I was able to go with it (kind of). Let it roll off of me (for the most part). Walk out of the house (since Tim was around). And that made it better. It made it vacation.