Bonkers for Back-to-School

I am sitting in the middle of a giant pile of crayons and markers. There is a stack of tissue boxes in front of me, obscuring my view of the television, and I can't keep my hands off the new Spiderman thermos I just bought for KosherCop. It's shiny.

I keep wondering how old I will be before "back-to-school" stops being a time of wonder and excitement. Apparently, I am also a dork who loves school supplies.

And this time we finally have someone going back to school. KosherCop is off to kindergarten in a couple of weeks. It's not really that much of a transition - instead of going to a Jewish preschool housed in our synagogue, he will be going to a Jewish day school housed in our synagogue. The change seemed so effortless I was actually worried that I might be cheated out of all the angst mother's of 5 year olds all over the country are right this minute experiencing!

But then I went online to the new school's website and discovered there was a parent handbook to read. And supplies to purchase! And a summer reading project!

Wait - a summer reading project for kids who haven't actually started school yet? And can't read? It's really work for us parents - we have to get the books from the library, read them to our child, and fill out a log. The log doesn't even ask for their favorite part. Just title, author, and parent's signature.

Oh well. I already finished all the forms the school sent. At least I have something else to fill out.

The funny thing is that KosherCop has been less than enthused about starting this new school. None of his friends will be going there and he has spent the last year of preschool making up games that involved "making a plan to get the [elementary school] kids".

But, this past Sunday we went to Target to pick out an insulated lunch box and he had a complete change of heart. This was my pet project even before I saw the school supply list. Since the school doesn't provide refrigeration or a way to heat food (as the preschool did) I was hell-bent on keeping the bacteria at bay. This is especially hilarious considering the metal box (more on this in a moment) in which my own lunch festered each day all through elementary school.

Once he picked out the lunchbox (tan camoflouge with orange trim - I was horrified), he realized he could get pencils and erasers and his very own pencil sharpener! By the time we got home he was literally dancing around the house saying, "I'm really excited to go back to school now that I have all these new school supplies!"

Part of the reason I was so intent on KosherCop getting a lunchbox he liked was because of my own sad childhood lunchbox trauma.

Picture the scene. It's 1973 and I'm getting ready to start first grade.

We are on our way to visit relatives and it has come to my urgent attention that I need a lunchbox. Rather than take me to pick one out another time, we are parked in the parking lot of the A&P supermarket. It is raining and I'm sitting in the back seat with my two older sisters - in the middle because I'm shortest (remember the hump in the middle of the floor in the back seat of old cars?). I am not allowed to go inside.

I have, however, given my parents very simple, very specific instructions: Please get me a Brady Bunch lunch box. I am very excited about this. I love the Brady Bunch. I play Brady Bunch. I pretend there are seven of us.

After patiently waiting for several minutes I see my parents returning to the car. I can't wait to see my new lunchbox.

They get into the car and hand it to me. It is a Partridge Family lunchbox.

My parents inform me there were no Brady Bunch ones. And, well, the Partridge Family is on after the Brady Bunch. Since I watch it - along with all the other people who just finished watching the Brady Bunch and have simply left their TVs on - my parents believe this is a fitting substitute.

How can they think the Partridge Family is as good as the Brady Bunch? Maybe they aren't my real parents. Maybe I am adopted.

Note to self: Search for real family and hold a grudge for the next 36 years.

Happy Birthday, KosherCook!

Today is KosherCook's birthday!

In usual Kosher Whine style, as I was driving home from work we were still hashing out the details of the celebration. KosherCook wanted to go out to dinner. Meanwhile, I was midway through buying him a birthday cake, card, and card from KosherCop.

I raced home, put away the cake, and enlisted KosherCop to "distract" Daddy while I snuck into the bedroom with armloads of gift wrap and ribbon - then meet me in there to help wrap his gift.

Amazingly, KosherCop did exactly what I asked - he wandered into the kitchen and started talking to his Dad about how he didn't like his cards he made earlier. I thought this was a brilliant diversion.

Little did I know he actually was distraught about his 3 failed attempts to draw a birthday cake as a perfect oval (I love that he gets perspective and doesn't think the cake should be round), and the one small mistake he made on the one beautiful elaborate card he did finish.

By the time he finished telling me about it, he had become completely inconsolable. He was devastated that he didn't have a card and gift that he made. He didn't want to sign the store-bought card I got for him and he certainly didn't want the present to be from him either.

After about a half hour of hysterical tears, I finally convinced him to give KosherCook the card he had made (that wasn't "perfect"), and KosherCop reluctantly dictated the words for the inside:

Dear Daddy,
I don't like this card, but I love you. Happy Birthday. You make yummy dinners. And you are my father. Happy Birthday.

And then he refused to sign it.

We finally made it out to dinner and had a nice meal. Although, KosherCook decided that my last beef kabob was far pinker than I'd ever eat, and helped himself to it before I could stop him. I let it go, since it was his birthday and all. But, I did make it clear that it was a good thing we were already married; if he had taken my last bite of anything on a date it would have been a dealbreaker and we wouldn't be here today.

KosherCook, of course, loved the card KosherCop made and was very happy with his new adjustable measuring cup and adjustable measuring spoons.

When dessert rolled around, we asked if there was any birthday cake - since it was his birthday (wink wink nudge nudge). There was, but there were also two flavors of pie. And KosherCook loves his pie.

For some reason he felt obligated to have cake and the most illogical argument I've ever heard followed:

KosherCook: I guess we'll have the cake.
Waitress: Just one piece?
KosherCook: No, I guess two.
Waitress: Both cake?
Me: If we are getting two why don't you get one cake and one pie?
KosherCook: No, that would be too much.
Me: But you are already getting two desserts - we can all share both.
Waitress: ??
KosherCook: Cake AND pie. No way. That's too much.
Waitress:?? (Looks at me with a look that says "This makes no sense to you either, right?")
Me: How can that be too much when it's the same amount. Two.
KosherCook: I can't possibly eat cake and pie. It's too much. We'll just have two pieces of cake.
Me: ??
Waitress:??
Me: We'll have two pieces of cake. (Give look to waitress that says, "This makes no sense to me either.")

It took me a while, but I think I finally figured out the point where the waitress and I both got lost. We both assumed that if there were two desserts and three people that we would all share the desserts - regardless of what those desserts were.

KosherCook made no such assumption. If we were ordering cake, he was having one piece - by himself - and KosherCop and I would be sharing the second piece. If we were also having pie, he would also be having one piece - by himself.

Clearly a piece of cake and a piece of pie are too much for one person.

What a Difference a Year Makes

My, how things have changed.

Some of you may remember my tales from last summer about KosherCop's over-the-top reactions to the occasional bloody knee or toe. I live in fear of his hysterics with every bump and scrape.

Things have been getting progressively better though. And tonight was downright astonishing.

Our neighborhood had a block party earlier this evening - a once a year (if we are lucky), "night out" against crime affair, where we all stumble out of our houses squinting and rubbing our eyes as we adjust to the fact that there are other people living on the block.

KosherCook and KosherCop were already there when I got home from work, so I walked over and stayed just long enough to say hello and determine that KosherCop had no intention of ever leaving the moonbounce. After 5 hours worth of conference calls at work today, I had neither the energy nor the voice to manage an hour of small talk.

KosherCook mentioned that KosherCop was very excited about having his shoes off - a rule for going on the moonbounce - but he was also walking around the street barefoot. This is usually not allowed. KosherCook doesn't believe in being barefoot. Whenever I walk around the house barefoot he points to my feet and sounds the alarm of  "Borves!" much as our Yiddish-speaking forebears would have. (Borves is barefoot in Yiddish.)

Anyway, I made a hasty exit and went back home. Maybe 15 minutes later I hear KosherCop banging on the front door yelling, "Mommy!"

I couldn't get to him immediately and as I weaved my way past the open dishwasher and other obstacles in our tiny kitchen I kept waiting for the sound of KosherCook's key in the lock.

Never heard it.

I finally got to the door and there's KosherCop - all alone, barefoot, and telling me quite calmly, "Mommy, I cut my toe."

So many questions went through my head at the same time: why is my son alone? where is KosherCook? did he let KosherCop walk home alone? did he know he was bleeding and let him go home alone anyway?

A split second later the prevailing thoughts were "call KosherCook" and "get bandaids". I called my husband as I walked KosherCop to the bathroom, because I had no idea if he even knew our son had left the block party.

As it turned out, KosherCook was completely aware - in fact he watched him from the corner, KosherCop's shoes in hand, until he got to our door. The cut came later when he stubbed his bare toe on a crack in the sidewalk.

So while I washed and bandaged my son's toe I marveled at how calm he was, hardly believing it.

No hysterics over a bleeding toe and bare feet allowed outside - all in the same night. Will wonders never cease?!

Backwards Dinner and Too Many Phone Calls

Tonight I had a really good idea. The first one. Ever.

At least that's what I've been told.

Then I was called a "dork who likes boxes." I love being a Mom.

For some reason I was feeling rebellious this evening. As Shabbat was coming to an end I was asked what was for dinner. I suggested ice cream.

KosherCop immediately said, "Mommy, that is a really good idea you have. The first one, really."

KosherCook looked disapprovingly at the two of us. But it was two against one so off we went to Baskin-Robbins.

Before we left the house I asked KosherCop to wash his hands, since he had been playing at the playground. He was cupping his ear with his hand and I thought he had gotten a mosquito bite. No. Apparently he was talking on his cell phone. His imaginary cell phone.

KosherCop: I'm talking to Miss Pinky on my cell phone.
Me: Well put her on hold and go wash your hands.
KosherCop: My phone doesn't have a hold button. If I put her on hold it will explode.
Me: Alright - just tell her excuse me and put the phone down.

Then, as a good Mom should I added,"But for goodness sake - don't get the phone wet!"

The entire way to the ice cream store KosherCop was on the "phone" - and complaining that he couldn't get any peace - "Oy, another call. Why won't everyone just leave me alone!"

Me: You could just turn it off you know.

But no, he continued talking - a long conversation with his friend "The Bug King" about how another friend's imaginary pet tarantula was having tarantula babies. I was shocked and asked if this child's mother knew. Too late - she was already bitten by one. But she was the one who got the tarantula in the first place, apparently.

Well, she got what she deserved then didn't she?

I've clearly lost my mind.

So we had our ice cream and then of course we all decided we wanted dinner. The only thing that could delight KosherCop more than ice cream for dinner was dinner for dessert.

After "dessert" we decided to go to our favorite place - The Container Store - which was surprisingly still open. This was not a popular choice with KosherCop and he grumbled all the way there about how it wouldn't be any fun.

Then when he got inside he said, "Oh sure, if you want to be one of those dorks who likes boxes!"

Hi. My name is Chaya and I'm a dork who likes boxes.

Corn Arugula Omelettata

Tonight was the end of Tisha B'Av, the day commemorating the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem. It is a fast day, and spent as if in mourning - similar to the observance of shivah. During the 3 weeks before Tisha B'Av we slowly move toward this day of mourning, by refraining from joyous occasions and doing things like listening to music. Then, nine days before Tisha B'Av, things become more intense, and one of the customs is to refrain from eating meat, except on Shabbat.

All of this introduction is to explain last night's vegetarian dinner KosherCook created. It served the dual purpose of being meat-free and using up some of our bountiful CSA corn.

I don't know if "omelettata" is a real word or I just made it up, but I feel that's the only word for this recipe. It is an eggy pie sort of dish - it is allowed to set and then is finished up in the oven like a frittata, but it came out thin (although not folded) like an omelette.

As always, I didn't know I wanted to blog about it until the dish was gone, which is unfortunate because it was really pretty before it was served. There were a few shards left in KosherCop's dish that I was going to save for his lunch today. One piece looked like a teeny pie slice, so I tried photographing it.

By this time KosherCop was hovering and asking questions. He already knew I was planning to post the recipe, so I showed him this photo and asked whether it looked interesting and tasty or unappetizing.

He decided it looked interesting and tasty.

So much so that he ate the rest of my "subject" before the photoshoot was over.

Oh well. Behold the Omelettata. Try it if you dare.

Ingredients:

• 2 ears fresh corn
  
• Handful of fresh arugula - washed and sliced
• 6 eggs - beaten
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• Salt
• Pepper
• Basil

Method:

1. Cut corn off the cobs, mix with the olive oil, and roast in a roasting pan at 400° F for 10 mins, then shuffle corn around so the other sides cook, and roast another 6 mins.
2. Melt butter in a large oven-proof pan over low heat.
   
3. Add corn and arugula to pan and saute briefly.
4. Add salt, pepper, and basil to taste
5. Add eggs to pan and let sit over medium heat for 5-6 mins until set.
6. Remove from stovetop and put under the broiler - with rack at the highest level - uncovered for 2 minutes.
7. Cut and serve with salad. Serves 4.
   

B'tayavon!

Zoom Zoom Buzz Buzz!

Last night we got together with my niece and her boyfriend. They stopped in DC after the first leg of a well-deserved road trip. They both were finishing up their first year of grad school. We decided to have a late dinner at Legal Sea Foods (the Tyson's Galleria location) - the thinking being that everyone could find a fish to love.

That was my first mistake. KosherCop did not want fish. Surprise! How is this possible? This child loves fish. Oh well, he was fine with the "Fish Shaped Ravioli".

The other surprise? Oops. I forgot I wasn't really in the mood for fish. No problem. There was a "Vegetarian Box" that sounded light and fresh.

When our waiter came to the table he asked us if we wanted appetizers. We didn't. So he went away and it was a month before we saw him again.

When he came back he asked us if we wanted appetizers - 3 more times. We still didn't.

He started taking our orders. I knew we were in trouble when KosherCook started joking with him and trying to get a recommendation, and the waiter just told him gruffly that he should pick one.

Next was KosherCop. I asked if the red sauce on the ravioli had any meat or meat stock in it - my standard question when ordering red sauce.

He looked at me like I was an idiot and said pointedly, "It doesn't have any fish in it."

"But is it made with any meat or meat stock?" I persisted.

"Why? Is he allergic to meat?" he asked snottily.

"I. just. want. to. know." So he finally agreed to ask the chef.

He came back with news that the red sauce was vegetarian and...did we want any appetizers?

We finished ordering and decided the waiter must have some incentive - like avoiding death - to push the appetizers, as opposed to, say, a short-term memory issue.

And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

When KosherCop was on his fourth dinner roll and lolling on my lap whining that "the food was never coming", it finally arrived.

Everything looked great. Until I saw my dinner.

It was a Chinese take-out box, upside-down on a plate. The server (not our waiter) removed the box with a flourish and what appeared to be some MSG-laden vegetables over rice oozed out.

We finally understood what had taken so long. Legal Sea Foods had to wait for my dinner to be delivered from P.F. Chang's on the other side of the mall.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. We all enjoyed the conversation. We still did not order appetizers.

All that was left was dessert and there was still a chance of getting KosherCop into bed before midnight.

Only KosherCop and KosherCook ordered dessert. KosherCop wanted ice cream - because that was all I offered him. The waiter gave him a choice of vanilla, chocolate, or coffee.

Now KosherCop is an adventurous eater. Unlike his mother, who always went for chocolate no matter how many new and exotic ice cream flavors were offered, KosherCop is all about trying new flavors. So he picked coffee.

The waiter looked shocked. I smiled and shrugged.

Dessert arrived and since KosherCop was eating quietly, I didn't pay him too much attention. After a little while I thought to ask if he liked it, since I couldn't remember him having eaten coffee ice cream before. He said it was good and gave me a taste.

I took a mouthful and after a few seconds realized what my 5 year-old had been eating: ice cream made with what tasted like crushed espresso beans!

I hadn't considered the possibility that coffee ice cream might have actual coffee in it - every time I've ever had it it's been made with coffee "flavor" or "extract".

The waiter wandered by and before he could offer us appetizers I asked about the caffeine content of KosherCop's ice cream. In his droll manner that I had grown to love over the previous 4 hours he said, "Well it has coffee in it, you know. That's why I was so surprised you let him order it."

Ah, that was what that look meant. Too bad he hadn't used his words. I explained my experience with coffee extract and he decided to ask the chef to be sure.

When he came back he asked, "Uh, how much of it did he eat? Maybe you better not give him any more."

KosherCop was fine with this, as the stimulant properties of his ice cream had kicked in and he needed to go to the restroom - pronto. All the way there, and all the way back he explained in his way of magical thinking, where in his digestive tract he believed the caffeine was and when it would leave him.

I was just thanking my lucky stars it wasn't making him too hyper.

As we settled the bill I suddenly realized that KosherCop was running manically back and forth and slamming into the wall with greater and greater force.

Oh dear.

I made a pitstop and when I met everyone outside, my niece's boyfriend was chasing KosherCop up and down the corridor - he was being a good sport and trying to tire him out. We then went on a 45 minute spree of chasing KosherCop through the entire mall ourselves. I'm not sure I can describe what a 5 year old with a massive caffeine buzz looks and sounds like. He was racing around and talking really fast and was completely unmanageable. Right, so it sounds like any day with a five year old boy. Just multiply that times 100 and you'll have the picture. If he was a cartoon there would be a zooming noise and smoke in the spot where he used to be.

Eventually, we wrangled him out of the mall and into the car. When we got home and tried to put him to sleep there was a lot of silliness and giggling, and his eyes kept popping open at first. But that didn't last too long and he fell asleep pretty quickly.

Now I could relax. Unfortunately Chinese food ordered by way of a fish restaurant still leaves you hungry an hour after you eat it.

Too bad. I could really go for an appetizer.

Fiction Friday: The Alien Story

Over the past several months, KosherCop has become quite the creative writer. He can't technically "write" yet, though, so this translates into a lot of dictation for us me. This time, though, I got lucky and his teacher at camp had to do the writing.

The first few weeks of camp they were doing projects related to outer space, and one of the projects was to write a story about an alien.

KosherCop is very particular about where his secretary is allowed to write the words to the story - which happens after the he draws the picture. So I feel fairly confident that he decided where the words were written on this story.

Pretty nice composition for a 5 year old, no?

Anyway, without further ado, I give you KosherCop's Alien Story:

The alien is on Jupiter.

A rocket comes and he says, "Oh no! People are going to find out that I really exist."

He turns invisible. Then the rocket lands right on him. The alien says, "Ugh!" Then he slowly crawls out from the rocket.

He goes into his house. He looks out the window. He sees that the men are getting out.

Then they turn off the fire in the rocket. They say, "We have to see if aliens exist."

The alien got all his friends and they discussed a plan.

They worked on some kind of potion. When no one was looking they poured the potion on the rocket.

Instead of the rocket going back to Earth, it blew up.

Then the men found materials to make a new rocket. Then they blasted off.

But they didn't know that one alien took a picture of one of the men. In the picture there was another person, but when the alien took the picture he was invisible.

It was not an alien. It was a ghost.

The End.

I don't know about you, but I loved the surprise ending. Who would have guessed? A Ghost!