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.

Who's Watching Over Me?

We have a new fairy godmother. It's called Anthem HMO. I'm pretty sure it stands for Horrible Monetary Option.

Or maybe it's Hyperventilating More Often.

Several months ago the company I work for sent around an email saying they were shopping for new health insurance. We were asked to fill out a survey about what we would want in a new insurance option. I was very specific - I would be happy with any option that was the same price or cheaper that had exactly the same coverage - or better.

Obviously, my opinion was not given much weight.

A while later we were told that Anthem was the leading contender and asked to please log into their website - following a specific set of instructions - and check if our current doctors were on the plan.

I was greatly relieved to find that all of our doctors were on the plan.

Then came the sales pitch - the insurance rep came in to give us an overview of our benefits. It sounded great! Everything we had before but no referrals. No more trips to our insane primary care doctor who sends us to the ER every time we need further testing.

Yep, everything sounded great. But...oh wait...some things would now cost $150 instead of $0. Oh well. All those $20 copays we'd be saving by going straight to a specialist without stopping at the PCP for a referral would even things out.

Oh, and by the way, the insurance company wants you to take the generic version of a drug if it's available.

That sounded reasonable - most doctors check that box on the prescription to allow generic if available.

Oh, and make sure if you go to Urgent Care you check if the doctor on duty is in-network or you will have to pay through the nose. Huh? Who the hell knows which doctor at an Urgent Care facility takes which insurance? Usually the Urgent Care facility is either in-network or not. (This is a huge problem for us since we avoid our doctor at all costs and try very hard to get sick after hours and on weekends.)

Better yet, just call the insurance company before doing anything to make sure it's covered.

Also, there was an HMO and PPO option. The first 95% of the presentation was about the PPO. There was one PowerPoint slide at the end that the rep rushed through, basically saying Oh, everything is exactly the same as the PPO but there is no out-of-network price. Either the doctor is in-network or you pay the whole thing.

Hmm. I was planning to choose the HMO option. It was the same price as what I was already paying and the PPO was 2x more expensive. I better check on this in-network situation.

No worries. The only difference was the out-of-network price, but all the doctors in the network were the same - supposedly 93% of all doctors in our area.

So I felt okay about the new insurance. Could be worse. I didn't stress about it.

For a few weeks we got reminders to fill out the application and I kept putting it off.

Finally, the day it was due I started filling it out. There was a space to fill in our Primary Care doctor and their PCP#. I went to the website, followed the new instructions specifically for the HMO option and discovered much to my horror, that only one doctor that anyone in the family goes to is in-network for the HMO!

I figured I must be doing something wrong and asked the HR director what it was. She emailed back that my doctors probably just weren't in the HMO - hers weren't; that's why she picked the PPO!

Oy. Apparently, when we were asked to check a few months ago, we were checking if our doctors were in the PPO plan. That's why they came up.

Crap. The expensive PPO plan was not an option for us. We could not afford that much more taken out of each paycheck.

KosherCook and I have been completely stressed out ever since, because this change has proven to be just as aggravating and problematic as it sounded. In just the two short weeks since it started, the new insurance has "caused confusion and delay" (to quote Sir Topham Hatt) getting doctor's appointments and tests scheduled.

But, the icing on the cake was on Friday afternoon when I went to pick up my asthma medications I take daily and they weren't covered. Anthem thinks I should be taking something they like better - a cheaper medication that I've already tried and doesn't work.

Maybe HMO stands for "Help - More Oxygen!"

Cell Phones and Minutes and Pre-Paid, Oh My!

Help! I've fallen into the abyss that is searching for a new cell phone, and I can't get out (because I can't phone for help).

It has come to our attention that our cell phones are hopelessly old and outdated. Jeesh! They're only from 2001! Okay, so they're only slightly smaller than our portable handset for our landline. And, yes, KosherCook's phone has a smashed display screen and the antenna fell off somewhere downtown.

But they still work. Except you can't actually use mine for more than a minute at a time because the battery no longer holds a charge. And you can't really reach KosherCook because even though his phone is on, it slips into a parallel universe called "PowerSave Mode" and refuses to take your calls.

But, we have this great plan where as long we only talk to each other we never use a single minute!

Okay, fine. We'd be better off with two paper cups attached together by a piece of string.

So, in an effort to avoid giving rise to a new form of "tethering", I've been researching new phones and plans. This would be a fairly simple process if we could simply decide what we want and find the best price. Apparently most people shop for new electronics this way.

Not so, here at Chez Kosher Whine. You see our very old cell phone plan is also super cheap. And we can't really have it cost more than it does now. If it does cost more, the difference will have to come from somewhere else. So I have spent the past 10 days making complex mathematical calculations trying to determine if increasing the price of our cell phone plan will somehow allow us to decrease the price of our landline fees. If you have ever read The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams, you will understand the amount of mental energy we are talking about. (The first person to leave a comment explaining this reference gets a cookie.)

I thought I had finally reached a decision tonight: a prepaid plan that would actually save us a whopping $400 a year - unless our usage went up dramatically - and 2 low-end but well reviewed phones. But, then I made the mistake of asking KosherCook's opinion on the whole thing. I don't know why I asked - I already knew his demands were simple. He wanted his phone to ring when someone called him, and be able to pick it up and actually speak to them. But I asked, and he threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing by suggesting that (Horrors!) we didn't have to get the same phone or even the same plan!

So back to the drawing board and four hours later I came to the same conclusion as I had originally. Except...I read that the SAR rating on the phone I wanted was the absolute highest allowable by law. I don't even know what this means compared to the radiation from the microwave that I stand in front at least once a day for a minute or more, or the ancient (notice a theme here?) laptop I have resting on the majority of my internal organs as I type this.

This is not information I was looking for, but now that I have it I can't ignore it. I am the poster child for neurotically extreme caution where my health (and my family's) are concerned. I once went to a chiropractor, hoping to cure a stiff neck. I was pregnant with KosherCop at the time, so the doctor performed a battery of tests involving tilting my head in different directions and asking me if I felt dizzy, which I did. I pretty much felt dizzy the whole nine months. Because I answered "yes" he told me he could do an adjustment on my neck and everything would probably be fine, but he had to warn me that there was a 1 in 500,000 chance that I could have a stroke and die. I left without the adjustment. It really didn't matter what that second number was. 1 in 99 kajillion thrillion bazillion. I only heard the "1".

So I will probably not get the high SAR phone. I'll probably end up getting something more expensive with less features. There really is such a thing as too much information.

On the other hand, the phone I want has a speaker phone. I could just keep it really far away from me at all times and shout into it. All I need is a long stick to answer it, maybe an iron purse to keep it in and I'm all set. Problem solved!

New technology here I come.

Mischievous Monkey

Our little angel, KosherCop, seems to have entered a lying phase. Perhaps lying is too strong a word. But his excuses for bad behavior lack a certain "truthiness."

On a good day he has a real problem with soap - he uses way too much of it. When he finishes washing his hands the sink is usually overflowing with soap bubbles (literally - he sometimes has to call for help to stop the bathroom from turning into a Brady Bunch episode).

This week, however, we ran out of handsoap - no big surprise. Since I have banned antibacterial soap from the house and all KosherCook could find on 2 shopping trips was the offending contraband, we have been reduced to using KosherCop's baby shampoo. After all, gentle soap is gentle soap and there was plenty of it. "Was" being the operative word.

I came home from work yesterday and the shampoo was almost gone! When I asked KosherCop about it he looked me in the eye and told me he had nothing to do with it. Then he offered an elaborate tale of aliens who came and emptied the shampoo into the toilet. Ah! A kernel of truth. Eventually I got the full story of how he did in fact dump the shampoo out into the toilet because he "felt like it".

We decided his punishment was going to be helping with chores until we felt he had "earned" back enough money to pay for more soap. He now thinks soap costs about $30. But wouldn't you know it- despite being punished - I woke up this morning and looked in the bathtub and...more shampoo. KosherCop admitted it right away this time with a shrug and a "sorry" that was more like "too bad for you" than actually "I'm sorry."

We added no TV to the punishment. Unfortunately this also was a punishment for KosherCook, since chores don't really get done alone by our 4 year old, and no TV meant no small break for KosherCook.

Luckily, the unpleasantness of the lying phase is being counteracted by a period of extreme expressiveness that is actually quite charming. For the last few nights KosherCop has found the dinners that we served so delicious that he "felt like he was floating up to the ceiling." He used a similar phrase tonight to describe general happiness (like I'm floating into a lake with you Mommy), so I asked him to describe how he felt when he was unhappy and when he was angry. His answers were "like I'm in a dumpster" and "like I stubbed my toe and it's bleeding" respectively. Wow!

I guess this sort of delightfulness is what keeps us from leaving our kids on the side of the road when times get lying trying.

Commuter's Whine

I had one of those mornings today that only seems funny when it happens to someone else.

First I sat in traffic on 270 and the Beltway for an hour and a half on my commute to work. Anyone familiar with this area will say, "So what?" because it's more noteworthy when you don't sit in traffic for at least an hour.

But, stay with me. I'm just setting the stage - trying to make you understand the headache I had when I finally arrived at work.

I don't eat breakfast at home - I take it with me - mostly because there is free Starbucks at work and I really would much rather have my coffee with my breakfast. Also, I get to work at 10am to beat the traffic (it usually works better than today).

So I arrived at work after 11am, starving, aggravated, and suffering from caffeine withdrawal (oh, right, for any of you who remember my swearing off coffee - Joe's back with a vengeance - as soon as my stomach problems were under control I was back on the java.)

Of course, when I went to get the coffee I only was able to squeeze out a quarter cup before getting that insulting noise of an empty airpot - like a big mechanical raspberry - that I always take personally. I dutifully refilled the pot - after threatening 2 other employees with bodily injury for getting between me and the coffee filters - and walked back to my desk.

Five minutes later I returned to the kitchen to get the fresh coffee and I see one of the network guys on his hands and knees, mopping up the floor - which is covered with coffee!

"It wasn't me!" he announced before asking for more paper towels.

"I think it may have been me. But I swear I only pushed the button on the coffee machine once!"

I racked my brain trying to think what I could possibly have done to cause such a mess, but couldn't come up with anything. I helped him clean up, wondering all the while if it would be bad form to see if any coffee was left in the pot first, or make more, or maybe lick the floor while I was sopping up the coffee. (Yes...yes, it would have been bad form - so I didn't.)

Finally most of the evidence of my mishap was safely hidden in the trash and I could move on to more important things - like pumping my bloodstream full of shade grown, free trade, chemicals.

I moved the pot and was surprised it was almost empty. Since I couldn't figure out what my mistake was I had assumed that the machine malfunctioned and just kept brewing coffee until Network Guy shut it off.

But if it was empty that would mean the pot must be leaking?

So I picked it up over my head to look at the bottom - and was promptly showered with the last dregs of coffee in the pot - right out of the spout. Yes - it was that kind of morning.

Apparently the doohickey that goes into the airpot and is responsible for sucking up the coffee and spitting it out into my cup was a little overzealous. It had taken matters into it's own hands and as the coffee went out into the pot, syphoned it right back out again directly onto the floor.

That must be why most people take this part of the coffee pot out before they brew the coffee. Live and learn.

I paid my hush money to Network Guy and Receptionist Lady, who he had called over to ask about taking a mop to the sticky floor, and headed back to my desk with my cup of coffee... very very carefully.

Still Waiting

Not since the day Van Gogh's girlfriend received something unsettling in her mailbox, has such a fuss been made over an ear.

KosherCop woke up yesterday with his ear all red. I didn't give it much thought since they often get red from him sleeping on them or if they get warm. But when I got home from work I noticed that not only was it still red, but it also was all scratched up and weepy. Yuch!!

Both KosherCop and KosherCook told me not to worry - it was just sunburned. How the heck does the inside of your ear get sunburned when the outside isn't even red?

I'm not buying this sunburn idea - I'm thinking infection. And I'm getting more and more upset about how bad his ear looks, but KosherCop assures me, "It's okay Mommy, it's not loose or anything." (You know - in case I had been concerned that it was going to fall off?!!)

Finally, I figured if the boy wasn't bothered by it, I'd see if he could fall asleep and, if necessary, take him to the doctor in the morning. Because supposedly children will let you know if they have a horrible painful ear infection by, I don't know, screaming and crying.

Of course all of this deliberation was out loud in front of KosherCop. So not 10 seconds after being tucked in, he comes out of his room insisting that he needs to go to Urgent Care. Now KosherCook, already riled up because I suggested that perhaps his medical degree got lost in the mail, really lost it. Because obviously I had planted this germ of an idea in our son's head.

So, I used the chocolate test. Are you familiar with this? This is the standard by which we ferret out all forms of "faking": "If you could have a chocolate popsicle would you still need to go the doctor?"

The answer was yes so off we went.

Well, guess what? KosherCop's ear was infected. Not an ear infection, but a skin infection that happened to be on his ear. The doctor even said, "It isn't sunburned." It would require a week of antibiotics and couldn't get wet for 24 hours.

So I went home and waited for my apology. What I got was this:

KosherCook: I still think it could have waited until morning.
Me: He has an infection called Cellulitis. He has to take antibiotics.
KosherCook: But it could have waited until morning right?
Me: No, the doctor said he needed to start the medicine tonight.
KosherCook: But nothing would have happened if we waited until tomorrow.
Me: Well, she did mention that after giving him his medicine tonight we still need to watch his ear to make sure it doesn't double in size or start oozing pus (Ew!)
KosherCook: I doubt that would happen. I'm sure it wouldn't double in size before tomorrow morning.
Me: I'm going online to look up Cellulitis.

10 minutes later I read to him how it's a rapidly spreading infection that can lead to complications including death.

Okay. I guess it was a good call. Your were being a good vigilant Mom.

Right sentiment, but not quite the words I longed to hear.

There have only been 2 times in our marriage that I have been right. That isn't counting all of the times I have actually been right - just the occasions that KosherCook has said the words, "You're right; I was wrong." I was hoping last night was going to make it 3, but I missed by a nose - or should I say - an ear.

I Survived a Multi-Generational Car Trip from New Jersey, and All You Got Was This Lousy Blog Post

We did go away this past weekend after all. The vegetables survived (although the strawberries had clearly been partying) and so did I. Barely.

We went to the Jersey Shore - land of my birth - for a family party, and here are some tips that I want to pass on to you that I learned during our time away from home:

1. If you are the type of person who would welcome the opportunity to perform brain surgery on yourself while wearing a suit of live bees - just to avoid traveling, then agonizing over whether to go until 2 hours after you should have left is not the best way to alleviate your anxiety.
2. If your father says he isn't coming up from Florida to go to your niece's college graduation party, assume that he will surprise you by being there.
3. Also, if you have not cleaned your house in [insert length of time here that you feel is appropriately disgusting - I'm not telling how long it really is] days/weeks, assume that said spontaneous Dad will be driving back home with you for an undisclosed amount of time. (I love you Dad!)
4. If you have a blog and you tell your family about it, they will read it. But not all of them will have read it recently. So when they are all together in one place, you will have the constant nagging suspicion that you are either quoting yourself or leaving out important details as you fill them in on your recent exploits.
5. Beer Pong is an exciting and educational activity that you learn in college.
6. Puppies, no matter how cute, soft, and loveable they are to adults, are terrifying to people who are the same size as them. (KosherCop and his cousin Lucky both became completely unhinged when the new golden retriever puppy was around.)
7. If said puppy-owners are empty-nesters the puppy will be referred to as the "baby". Babyproofing will ensue. For example, the dangerous rocks in the rock collection will be locked up somewhere that the puppy can't access them, despite your own baby having been allowed to juggle the asbestos and radioactive moonrocks. (That's an exaggeration - Uncle P. would never allow my son to juggle with the rocks in his collection - you can only sniff the asbestos, never touch it.)
8. If you aren't sure how to get your guests to leave when the party is over, hire a hysterically howling 4 year old who has just bloodied both knees during an unfortunate round of freeze tag.
   
9. Just because said 4 year is hysterical, doesn't mean he is being melodramatic. Even if he requests "a thousand band-aids" for his knee.
10. If your child has finally started to calm down, count on 5-7 caring and supportive family members to try to console him with survival tales of their own childhood traumas, only to start him crying again when they get to the part about how there was blood. Expect them not to catch on to why he isn't actually calming down until you finally point it out.
11. If your child has never lived in an apartment and you spend the night in one, expect a visit from the downstairs neighbors at some point. They will not be there to welcome you to the building.
12. When driving home with four people in a car ranging from 4 to 86, you will be legally obligated to stop at 11 out of 12 rest stops. You will be overjoyed since you only had to request 5 of them - despite needing all 11.
    
13. If your family reads your blog, they are going to see that you are making fun of them!
    

Love you guys! We had a great time seeing everyone!

Veggiemania

Vegetables have taken over my life.

I'm constantly worrying about our produce. Is it stored properly? Is it humid enough? Is it comfortable? Is it depressed and considering suicide?

I'm considering not going out of town this weekend as planned because I don't want our produce to have to stay home alone. And possibly rot.

We are splitting our CSA share with my in-laws, but they keep going on vacation, which results in us having more produce than we are able to eat in a week. It should even out next week when they come back - they will take the whole box - but who knows how well our produce will fare until then.

The other problem is room - we don't have enough in our fridge and we're losing track of what's in there. There is actually a list on The Jew and the Carrot that addresses this very issue - what you need to have on hand (including room) to best take advantage of you CSA share. But since nothing on the list includes someone coming to our house and cooking for us I'm not sure it solves our immediate problem.

I guess, we need to start making lots of salads to use up more vegetables at once. Of course, by "we" I mean KosherCook. Which brings up a whole other issue. For the last 4 years he has been doing almost all of the shopping and cooking. But now that he's spending all Monday dealing with CSA delivery and member pickup, we are starting the week off on poor footing. It starts Monday night with him being too tired to cook any of the actual vegetables and instead making hotdogs or mac w/cheese. Unfortunately I'm a big fan of both those dishes so I'm usually kinda psyched. But then, by the time I wrangle KosherCop into bed, I don't have the energy to do more than just unpack the box - no washing, no removing from storage bags (bad produce-owner, bad). With a beginning like that, the rest of the week just sort of spirals away from us.

On a positive note, this week we got romaine lettuce instead of the lettuce we had been getting. It's had a lot fewer bugs - I was even able to take it unwashed to work and just rinse it off before eating it with lunch. Of course watching someone wash a head of lettuce in the lunchroom prompts a few questions, so I'm becoming quite the CSA evangelist at work. Despite my own niggling fears that this experiment may fail if we can't get our act together, I have taken every available opportunity to talk up our vegetables and give a shout out to our farmer. And if the unwitting victim person who says, "that lettuce looks great" seems willing to listen, I'll continue on about our synagogue and Tuv Ha'aretz. Most people are at least really interested in the CSA. I've had several inquiries from people asking advice on how to join one or start their own.

It's very exciting! I feel like we are on the cusp of a very large cultural shift. Maybe it's just me - being immersed in this small community of people interested in sustainable living, but it seems like things are going to change dramatically - for the better - and soon.

If Life Gives Someone Lemons, Get That Person To Make You Lemonade

I can't breathe. Well, not literally or I'd have higher priorities than blogging. But, I was feeling so anxious earlier that I had a glass of wine. I actually intentionally opened the bottle for the very purpose of drinking it. That never happens - on very special occasions there might be a leftover open bottle and I might have a sip. But, to go out of my way to have a drink - Whew!

But, you see, I have good reason to be stressed. We just met with a financial planner and started the painful (though necessary and helpful) process of getting the "big picture" on our finances. He's a friend of ours and we won his services in an auction at our son's school and his assistant he brought with him used to work at the school, so it was all very friendly. And I have been looking forward to taking care of all the things I know are a mess, but it is so much easier to not get upset when you don't look at it all at once.

But it's good. And they are going to help us come up with a plan. And eventually my ribcage will once again expand - or I'll develop a drinking problem.

The good news is that E. seems very attuned to our financial woes.

On Monday he asked for pizza and I explained that I would be happy to make one, but it was too expensive to order one when I had all of the ingredients in the refrigerator. This got him thinking.

"How can we have enough money," he asked.

Ah, if I only the knew the answer..."Well, you could have a lemonade stand and sell lemonade..."

"Oh, yes, great, Mommy! Do we have any lemons?"

"Er, um...no...not at this exact moment. And actually you would have to sell an awful lot of lemonade..." I started feeling bad for suggesting this. I had no idea he would want to do it - it seemed like the kind of thing he'd nix immediately.

Not to be deterred, he started coming up with his own ideas. We could sell vegetables (Sorry, we don't grow vegetables)... We can sell chocolate candy (not a bad idea, but I don't know how to make chocolate candy)...

Eventually he started getting frustrated and I told him the best way we could make some extra money was if we could convince his Dad to cook his wonderful food for other people.

That's when E. came up with his really big idea. (By the way, one of E.'s favorite TV channels is The Food Network) -

"I know! Let's get Rachel Ray to make food for other people and then give us the money! And then Emeril could also make food for people and he could give us money for it too!"

Problem solved. I'll get right on that.

Update on "Jewish Living" Magazine

So way back in November I wrote about how I was so excited to get my free trial issue of Jewish Living Magazine.

Well, first I received one invoice, then another - this time warning that my subscription would be discontinued if I didn't pay - but still no magazine. Finally, at the end of January I sent an email to customer service asking what the deal was. I received a reply and apology and was promised the next available issue.

More time went by...still no magazine. I debated sending another email, but opted for tossing out the invoices they continued sending and giving up hope of ever receiving it.

Suddenly, this past Friday (31/2 months later) I received my free trial issue! I couldn't believe it. E. thought I went crazy as I jumped up and down and screamed! Until...I noticed it was the January/February issue with feature stories on Tu B'Shvat. Hmm. Wasn't that a while ago? Shouldn't I be getting an issue about Purim and Pesach at this late date?

I read the magazine and I enjoyed it, although I didn't find it particularly inspirational. Probably because Tu B'Shvat has passed and E. is too little for sleep away camp - another feature article. But, it was pretty much what I was expecting.

I feel compelled to subscribe because I would like to support this concept. However, I'm skeptical about their ability to deliver the magazine in a timely fashion if I send them my money.

Grounds for Divorce

My Dearest Joe,
I've known you for so long - I can't believe it is ending this way.

Do you remember how we first met? My father introduced us over breakfast one morning. I'm not even sure what you were doing in our house, but there you were. I didn't like you at first - you were dark and bitter, as if you had been burned by some uncaring, neglectful soul. I was so young then, but eventually I came to appreciate your charms.

In the beginning we were just together occasionally - a night out with a bunch of friends every once in a while. But soon I was waking up with you every morning. Even now I can still feel that first moment you'd touch my lips every day - how you made my heart race!

It's been years now. You grew so strong and sophisticated as we got older. Maybe I didn't keep up with you. But in the end you turned on me. Your betrayal was like a dagger in my gut, leaving me crying on the bathroom floor for days. Eventually even the doctor said what you were doing to me was no good - you'd have to go.

Now that I've filtered you out of my life, I can finally sleep at night again. But I still miss you. I stand now in my sunlit kitchen looking at your abandoned things - your empty mug brings tears to my eyes even now. I know there will be days when I'll see you around, and I'm sure the sight of someone else's lips on you will drive me to distraction.

But for now I'm moving on. I just boiled some water and I'm going to sit down with a hot steaming drink, in your mug, and dream about the future.

So long Mr. Coffee. I'm drinking tea now.

Shabbat in a Box

Being sick stinks.

I've been sick for 9 days now. 9 DAYS! This is ridiculous.

At least on Friday I finally reached a doctor who could start to help me. He sent me for a lab test and prescribed some medication. So I spent the better part of the day Friday running back and forth to the hospital lab and pharmacy. It didn't leave much time for preparing for Shabbat.

On a related note, in a spectacular bid of solidarity, H. drank a cup of coffee and spent the rest of the day in as much gastrointestinal distress as I was. So he wasn't able to do much in the way of cooking or cleaning either.

This left me with the challenge of somehow coming up with at least dinner. I stopped at Trader Joe's on the way home and picked up the only thing I could think of that wouldn't bother anyone's stomach and would be something E. would eat too: frozen potato latkes.

Feeling like my Mother-of-the-Year award was slipping out of sight, I told the boys that this was "Get in the Mood for Hanukkah Kick-Off Shabbat" and that I was finally going to grant E.'s request for a dinner of "beans, beans, beans" (this is one 4 year old who loves his beans!). So dinner was potato latkes and applesauce with three bean salad - made with 3 different cans of beans, leftover pasta, and Italian dressing - ooh la la - tres gourmet. Maybe not so great, but with a white lace tablecloth and fresh flowers it still felt like Shabbat.

This morning was pretty lame too.

We were all under the weather, so no Synagogue (again). But we rallied in the afternoon and had some fun playing games together. (E. is becoming quite adept at Go Fish.) And I realized that we had the game "Ropes and Ladders" in our basement. (This was Parker Brothers answer to "Chutes and Ladders," but with a Pirate theme! Terrific 1950's graphics.)

E. and I also made up a few new ones that we got a good half-hour of entertainment out of: talk really slow, talk really fast, and I'm hu-u-u-ngry-y... This game is sheer genius. E. sits on my lap and whines "I'm hungry" until I pretend to feed him. Then he whines "I'm full" and it's my turn. You can't buy fun like that. The really hilarious thing was that about 15 minutes after we stopped playing and E. had a big snack, he walks over to me and whines, "I'm hu-u-u-ngry-y..." I start getting annoyed because he just ate and said he was full, when I realize what he is doing.

"Oh, that's funny,. I get it - you're playing the game."

"What game, Mommy?"

[Insert visual of hand slapping forehead here]

Can We Turn the Clocks Back - to Friday Night?

Oy. What a terrible weekend!

From the time I left work Friday things started going downhill. As I was leaving my office parking lot, the oil light blinked on for a split second. This was the fourth time this has happened this week. I've been living in fear of the car breaking down ever since I cancelled the last scheduled tune-up at the last minute and keep forgetting to reschedule.

The oil light didn't stay on continuously so I thought I was okay until I got onto the Beltway and the engine started making that terrible ticking noise. You know the one - where it sounds like the oil is empty and the engine is about to seize up. Okay, so I didn't change the oil for 7000 miles despite driving in stop and go traffic every day.

So for an hour I held my breath, driving as close to a shoulder as possible in case the car died. Miraculously, I made it home. All the way into my driveway and the car didn't die.

I was so happy to be home and not stranded on the side of the road (no AAA either, if anyone is wondering). I was looking forward to a peaceful Shabbat. The house smelled terrific and E. even greeted me with, "Mommy, do you smell something delicious cooking?"

Well, that was the last peaceful moment that Friday night. I'm not sure how it happened, but one minute we were waiting for dinner and the next H. and I were knee-deep in diffusing a category 5 temper tantrum. I believe one of us had the audacity to suggest that E. take his bath while we were waiting for dinner. We eventually got him into the bath, but he was so worn out that he asked to go to bed before I could finish my meal.

Saturday was even worse. The pain I started having under my ribcage on Thursday got worse. So instead of going to services and then to the potluck lunch I'd so been looking forward to, I ended up in the Urgent Care. E., however, went to the lunch so he could play with the other kids and H. could take me to the doctor. Apparently, E. is always a welcome houseguest because of his outstanding behavior. Hmm...I wish that kid had been at our house the night before!