I Finally Did It

I forgot to tell y'all... I finally cut my hair!! (pictures coming soon... no, silly, not of me and my new hair cut, but of the two long braids.)

At least 15 inches came off into two braids. Then I got more chopped off during my haircut for a total of at least 20 inches. OK, I know that I've lost the guys attention (so what's the deal with guys and long hair anyway??), but I have bangs and it's in layers (short and choppy) and THE MAN loves it. He helped me finally get rid of the locks that were constantly knotting, always pulled back and doubled into a ponytail, and usually hid under a baseball cap.

He kept on encouraging me to get it cut even though he loves long hair because he knew how much it was irritating me. Work and DB keep me pretty busy, and with Yontiff my schedule was just insane. I was going out to visit him and a friend of mine (more on that later) suggested I use her guy. Believe it or not I actually scheduled an appointment AND WENT!! Not until after I walked into the place did I find out that Mr. Rose had already paid for my cut. HOLY MOLY!!! Who is this man???

Before I got the cut I warned him that I would probably cry afterwards. It's kind of traumatic to lose that much hair even if you want to, it's for a good cause, and it's been driving you bonkers. Also told him that I would probably hate my new hair cut, and the best thing for him to do was to constantly tell me that it looks great, he really likes it even if he thinks it's the ugliest thing, and even if I tell him that I know it's ugly or to stop saying those things to me. That's some advice for you guys too. That is if you can remember when she gets her haircut or actually notice it. OK, OK, that wasn't fair, but c'mon most of you never say anything and it doesn't matter if she covers her hair. The woman in your life would appreciate hearing something nice. OY! Didn't mean to give a shmooze. Sorry.

So he picks me up and I don't even want him looking at me. I'm fussing with my hair because the guy styled it towards my face and UGH!! I hate that!!! We get back home, and that's when the tears start. Of course, he's been telling me the whole ride how much he likes it and I've been telling him I don't and I know how horrible it is.

The mirror is calling as soon as I walk in the door and I'm trying to fix my hair so that even if I won't feel pretty at least I'll be a little happier. Then I realize that I don't have anything to use on my hair. Mr. Rose immediately suggests that we go out and get stuff. OMG!!! This man is just 'da best! CVS here we come. I spend about twenty minutes trying to find what I want, and they just didn't have it. BUT he buys me the some of the stuff I was looking at anyway!!! Makes you want to kiss him... and I did.

Later on we went food shopping so that I could cook for Shabbos and Yontiff and the 14 guests we were having for one of the meals, and there it was... my gunk. The stuff I put in my hair. He got a kick out of the name and I'm sure y'all will too... Bed Head. Kind of appropriate for me. Isn't it???

I was able to do my hair the way I like it and I was really happy with the hair cut, but the wonderful man kept on telling me that he loves the way it looks. I told him he didn't have to anymore and he said he wasn't telling me because he thought I needed to hear it, but because he thinks I look great. I know, I know, I'm not letting him go. He's not Mr. Perfect, but I'm not interested in perfect. I want him.

It's been a couple of weeks and I still like my hair so much so that I'm going to get it cut out by Mr. Rose from now on.

IMPORTANT!!! The reason I grew my hair and cut it.

I'm donating my hair to Zichron Menachem in Israel. They make human hair wigs for children who have lost their hair due to cancer

• Hair needs to be a minimum of 25 cm (10 inches) long - when braided.
• The hair should be tied with a rubber band at both ends - before it is braided and cut.

Braids should be sent (enclosed in a plastic or zip-lock bag) to:
Israel:
Zichron Menachem
P. O. Box 16383
Jerusalem, 91163

In the USA:

The Children's Bridge of Zichron Menachem
39 West 37th Street 3rd Floor
New York, NY 10018

In the UK:
The British Friends of Zichron Menachem
30 Brookside Road #306
London NW119NE

No Pressure

Haven't really given y'all the low down on Mr. Rose and his trip to Kansas. He has friends in Kansas, but it was easier all around to have him stay with some of my relatives. There were a lot of cousins interested in hosting him, but I wanted him to feel comfortable so I made sure he had his own floor including choice of bedrooms and bathroom.

I got into Kansas all gross from working and then traveling, and the first place I went was to see him. Points for Mr. Rose that he didn't run screaming for the hills. He then went on to tell me that I look better than my pictures. I beg to differ. I think he was just excited that I'm a real live person and not a figment of his imagination.

He had already sent me flowers, books, and music, but the next thing I know I have a box of chocolates in my hand and am told that I don't even need to share. WHOA!!! Y'all know how I feel about chocolate. Not only that he brought me more music, he has great taste, two toys for DB and... a brand new tool belt. That's the way to this woman's heart!!!

I like working with my hands... in numerous ways. Get your minds out of the gutters!! ;-) I crochet, knit, needlepoint, replace light fixtures, toilets, faucets, sinks, vanities, not to mention working on my car. I like to get my hands dirty. Believe it or not I have never owned a tool belt, and there have been many occasions when one would've come in handy, repairing the ceiling fan is just one of them.

All I can say is he really listens to me and then thinks about me when getting me something. Unbelievable. I'm blown away.

Well, he obviously feels something for me. He's been telling me in letters, phone calls, and now in person, but I'm a little uncomfortable. Things are moving way too fast on his part. Yes, Petey, I know I fall easily, but Mr. Rose has fallen harder and faster.

He was going to come to Oz for Shabbos, but we're slowing things down a bit. He's totally cool with that. WOW!!! Is he too good to be true?!?!?

Wasn't able to finish the post last night...

Stopped at Home Depot today. It's one of my favorite toy stores, and finally picked up a new ceiling fan for the kitchen. I was going to install it tonight after I changed the light switch in the bedroom, BUT had to go pick up DB from a sleepover party. He's still not comfortable quite yet sleeping at a friend's house. So I now owe Mr. Rose a nickel. I told him I could have the fan installed tonight and he bet against me.

It seems like he has an idea of who I am. He started talking about firemen, and how being stuck in Home Depot with one would make me a happy woman.

The Ones You Love

OK, so I have the title, but what about the rest.

This is just going to be a rambling post. It feels like I haven't posted in a couple of days. I guess I'm getting used to writing. It's become something that I miss like a loved one far away. Perhaps you don't think of them every second, but when your world gets quiet they fill your thoughts.

I had some strange dreams over Shabbos. And I mean STRANGE! My dreams are usually very vivid and that includes this one. I can even remember the street signs and the names of the people I met. It started with someone moving in next door to my mom's house. A couple around my age, with no kids, and a spotted mutt.

They were celebrating their anniversary with a good friend (guy), and their parents. Somehow I got pulled into it and we were watching old movies. The friend and I were hitting it off because I was impressed with the fact he knew the names of the actors and had seen other movies starring them. Actually, the real reason why I was impressed was that the movies were romantic ones, and he just didn't strike me as the type of guy who would watch them let alone remember them.

I felt pulled towards him and shy and embarrassed at the same time which, of course, caused me to trip over my own feet while helping carry the dessert plates to the kitchen. I could feel my face turn warm, and can feel it right now even though it was only a dream.

You can tell that dream was definitely realistic. Sooo something that I would do. Except in real life the plates would have crashed to the floor breaking into pieces.

When I left the house I couldn't remember his name, and I remember getting all flustered again and hoping he didn't notice. Of course, that wasn't the case. He winked like he knew what I was feeling which ended up with me almost falling down the stairs outside.

My dream somehow shifted to ex-boyfriends. (Yes, I have a lot of them) Moshe was the one who had the starring role. In the dream he wanted to marry me. I thought it was kind of funny in my dream because we cared about each other very much in real life, but I don't think he ever really felt that way about me. Just to let you know, I sometimes recognize the fact that I'm dreaming or that my dreams incorporate so much of real life that during them I'm trying to figure out when things actually took place, or feelings changed.

Back to Moshe... He looked like Moshe, blonde hair, blue eyes, Cubs baseball cap, white T-shirt, blue jeans and several inches taller than I was. He spotted me from his apartment where he was having a party and his buddies started yelling at me to stop. They were shouting that Moshe had something important to ask me. I remember being very surprised because it was during a Cub's game, and nothing came between Mosh and his Cubs, but there he was running across the lawn to me. I started running away once I realized what it was he was going to ask me.

I've always loved Moshe. No! Not like that. Even though, we did fool around a bit. I met Moshe my first year in seminary and we both went back second year. You might think that I was rebellious and didn't respect my teachers and rebbeim, but that wasn't the case, even though he did sleep over in our apartment one night. That was a fun night. And no, I wasn't thrown out, even though I walked into sem the next day sporting a hickey in plain sight.

OK, back to the crazy dream. Before Mosh had a chance to ask me the dream slipped into a different scene. It was Pesach and my family was having a seder with another ex-boyfriend's family. They've never really met, and I remember being surprised that we were all together. The ex wasn't there though. At some point his parents made a disparaging comment about me, and my mother took umbrage. (No, I don't use the word umbrage in my regular speech, but it fits here and it's fun to do.) A big fight ensued and I slipped out the door not wanting to get involved.

That's when Mark, Izzy, and some other exes showed up, and I got lost trying to get to some other friends. I was wearing pink yummy fleece pajamas, my winter coat, my big clodhopper snow boots and my usual baseball cap, Yankees, of course.

The rest of this dream will have to wait...

And I think that I'll also write the post that should go with the above title.

Very Talented

Y'all know that I'm talented at hurting myself in weird ways. What I haven't told you is that I'm very talented at making a mess too. My mother used to and still does call me a tornado. When I was growing up she was constantly telling me, "Why can't you be neat like your brother?" Ugh! If anything, that pushed me in the opposite direction of what she wanted. Max is my younger brother and just hearing that I should be like him was a blow to my ego. Plus the fact that he would rub it in my face later on.

Another reason I balked at cleaning my room was because my mom would tell me to do it. When someone tells me to do something that is a sure indication that I won't. I know that it's not the most mature behavior and I'm working on it. I just respond better to being asked. Of course she probably did ask me repeatedly, and when that didn't work she had to tell me to do it.

I would turn around and glare at her. "It's my room. Why can't I keep it the way I like?!!!!" I would stomp my feet as hard as possible up the steps to let her know my displeasure and then slam my door. I'd turn up my music loud enough to annoy her, but not quite loud enough to have her come to my room and yell at me to turn it down. I made sure that she was able to hear the words and I played the hell out of my Pink Floyd, The Wall tape.

I am laughing as I hear her voice in my head telling me not to speak to her that way. I say the same thing to DB when he uses those words to tell me he prefers to have everything he owns on the floor. And I realize that those many times I stormed up those stairs might have contributed to the creaks in them.

My mom finds it very funny that DB can destroy a neat room in the same amount or possibly even less time than I could/can. I know that she's thinking payback. But I get the last laugh when DB and I go to Kansas for Shabbos. We leave a wake in our trail as soon as we walk in the door... at least, now I clean up without her telling me too.

The Walking Wounded

I've been doing a lot of talking to myself lately ("OW! Not again CR.") mainly because I've been doing some, well, let's just say it's my way of doing things, mostly self-inflicted.

You all know about the rugburn on my forehead, but I just want to let you in on some background info. so that you can understand me better. That wasn't the first place that I got a horrible rug burn this past year. Somehow (don't ask me how), I managed to get rug burn on my left foot just below where my big toe is. I was a bit pre-occupied at the time and don't really remember how it took place. Let's just say it was worth it.

I also managed to recently burn myself on my left hip. That burn, actually two, happened because I wanted to wear a skirt and it was wrinkled. Since the iron and ironing board are in my room, there's no reason for me to be wearing anything while I'm ironing my clothes for the day... except for the possibility of brushing the iron up against me.

You might think that it's a mistake most anyone could make, but I've already done it once before. That time I was ironing a shirt and managed to burn a line across my stomach. It was a long time ago, so long ago the burn has already completely faded from my skin unlike the two on my hip.

Now, let's get to this past Friday. Things were hectic. When aren't they right before Shabbos? Anyway, I managed to burn my the top of my left hand where it meets my wrist. I was reaching for the pan of chicken and there you go CR has done it again.

Don't worry I've been staying away from ovens, irons, rugs, and just in case even knives this week. But Shabbos is coming up so wish me luck on Thursday night, and don't worry too much. I'm going to get a new aloe plant tomorrow.

fitness update: I've lost a total of 13 lbs. and have gone down a size very close to two sizes. I've been walking/running for about 35 minutes a day and I'm trying to get up to 10,000 steps a day.

This Weekend

Warning: Not G-Rated

I spent this past weekend with a fellow blogger that I had never met before (we spoke over the phone, though ) and had a great time. No kids, no men but plenty of talk about both. We had planned to get to sleep early Friday night, but it didn't quite work out that way because we couldn't shut up. OK, OK, I couldn't shut up.... about sex. It was like I was 16 again, my parents were out of town, some friends of mine were staying over, and there was such a sense of freedom. We giggled and talked even while we were falling asleep.

Shabbos day was more of the same, and then we both passed out and slept for most of the afternoon. Then came Sat. night and Blondie (I mentioned him and his blue eyes in passing a couple posts ago). He knew that I was going to be near him for the weekend, but no definite plans were made.

First a few pieces of information... Blondie, divorced dad of two girls, and I had been corresponding for awhile with some flirting, but neither of us really did anything about it. Then I had a dream about him except he had dark hair and dark eyes, which is not the case at all. I wrote to him about it without any details just the fact that it took place and the next thing I knew we were im'ing until 2 in the morning. We exchanged phone numbers, but didn't actually speak to one another until right before Shabbos. Blogger girl encouraged me to call and major thanks go out to her for that. So tentative plans were made for Sat. night.

Blogger Girl and I went out for pizza and then met up with him. I was surprised by a kiss on the cheek hello, but I most certainly didn't mind. Blogger Girl went home very graciously and left the door unlocked for me.

Then it was just the two of us... in person. Blondie mentioned that I didn't look like any of my pictures and if I wasn't wearing the pink baseball hat I told him about he wouldn't have recognized me. He also looked different than his pictures. Stronger... ok, I know that doesn't really make sense but it's true.

Yes, he was a gentleman and opened the car door for me (points). Then we went out and got drinks. We were sitting at the corner of the bar and every once in awhile his leg would brush against mine. It was comfortable and fun being with him. He's intelligent and weird funny, and that's a high compliment. Personally I find witty very, very sexy along with confidence and he definitely had that too. He was a man not a guy, and boy, did that turn me on.... not to mention his eyes, intense and searching.

We talked about first kisses and believe it or not he knew the boy who gave me my first kiss. I leaned into Blondie and he rubbed my back. Yummy! One drink was enough for both of us and we decided to go see the ocean but by this time it was getting late so he took me back to Blogger Girl's... NOT!! Are you kidding me?!?!? Do you really think that I would stop there. C'mon, it's me. Sex on the brain girl... the one whose libido is back and functioning.

Anyway, before we even made it to the beach or even into the car, I got my first kiss from him. Maybe I should change his name to sweet lips. I lost track of where we were, but somehow we made it to the boardwalk. He told me I was beautiful (points) and even made me feel that way (major points). He wanted to look at me but I put my head on his shoulder (strong shoulder). Of course, my hair came down out of the doubled up pony tail. And the breeze off the water felt so good through it. I haven't cut it yet. Then there were his eyes. I know I mentioned them already but they became a darker blue and filled with passion. I had to look away. But his gaze was magnetic and drew my eyes back up to his and I got lost in the heat of his piercing desire.


We finally made it back to Blogger Girl's at about 4:30 in the morning. Woke up at about 9:30 got dressed and went out for breakfast. Oh! Couldn't find my pink hat so I wore another one. I got a phone call later in the day to let me know that Blondie had it. I left it in his car.... guess my attention was elsewhere when saying goodbye. Needless to say I'm very very tired. My eyes are closing but a smile is on my lips.



OH! Don't forget the slimy slug (phylum-mollusca, class-gastropoda) UGH! Huge and gross

Holidays Are Hard And So Is Limbo

My heart used to ache when DB went with his father for visits because I was concerned about his safety, it made my heart ache when he would cry and cry and say "I don't want to go, Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" And I would smile and tell him he was going to have a good time and hold my tears back until he was out of sight. Then I would break down with great heaving sobs wishing that there was some way I could protect my child.

It's amazing what you learn to live with. I don't cry anymore and neither does DB. He wants to go with his father now. You can tell that he's afraid that if he doesn't his father won't love him anymore. He's a bright boy and knows that a parent shouldn't treat a child the way his father treats him.

Even when DB is taken on vacation or special trips with his father and I know that he will have some fun my heart is still full and heavy with tears. There's a knot in my throat that makes it hard to breathe and swallow. I'm still scared for is safety. Most of the time I can forget about it or at least trick myself into thinking that I've forgotten it. But especially with the trial coming up I'm a lot more sensitive and scared to death. This is DB's life at stake, and I'm afraid.

It's difficult, that's a complete understatement, to sit around and wait for the report from the forensic. A lot is depending on that. If she's in favor of the relocation then there probably won't be a trial. Imagine having to let someone else decide what is best for your child and if you contradict there's a chance that you will lose the right to care for him and send him directly into harm's way.

I am going bonkers from waiting. Even if I knew that there was going to be a trial, and that would probably mean an appeal after for a total of another year and a half to two in the court system, I would be able to handle it... that is, of course, after the fist raising at Hashem, screams of why and floods of tears. I would get down to case law and writing.

The stbx is trying to break me with all these years of fighting. He thrives on it and lives for craziness. But I'm not going to crack or give in. I'm a mother backed into a corner so don't mess with me. I will do what I have to even if it's pretending that everything is fine or soon will be so that DB won't worry. I won't give in even when the powers that be think his lies are truly gospel from the mount.

I'm just tired of it.... but that doesn't mean I will give up... not ever... ever.... ever...

Shabbos in.... Borough Park!?!?!

Warning: this post is most certainly not rated G



Yes, that's where I was... someone from Kansas in the heart of Jewish Oz with Chassidish, and boy did I have a great time.


It all happened kind of quickly. He came by to see me Thursday night and his smile was so alive, open and welcoming. I was in his outstretched arms in a minute and then his lips were on mine. This is a man who knows how to kiss and loves doing it. We spent over an hour laughing, and enjoying the feel of each other. He made me feel beautiful just by the way he looked at me.

We said goodbye several times until he finally left and then spoke some more on the phone while he drove home. We are both so aware that this will not turn into anything else, and there's so much friendship and caring on both our parts. Friday morning he tried reaching me but DB and I were busy so I didn't speak to him until later.

We had been joking throughout the week that he was coming to me for Shabbos or that I was going to spend it with him. Then in an instant it was decided that I was traveling to Borough Park most definitely a million miles away from Kansas.

He was waiting for me outside and had saved me a parking space. Of course, we had to wait until we were in his apartment before I was in his arms again. Boy, did I love the feel of those strong arms wrapped around me. He lifted me as easily as if I were a doll that belonged to one of his children.

I've never kissed, dated, or been interested in someone chassidish especially not someone who wears a bekeshe (spelling?) and streimel. I don't know whether it was him or chassidish mentality but the way he treated me and looked at me was something that I never really experienced before. I didn't feel at all self-conscious about my body. And that made this one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life. Was it because he was at least two times the size of me (he's way over 6 feet) and that just one of his arms wrapped completely around my waist? Or was it because when we looked at the magazines he bought for me to read (yeah, like I was going to be bored at his apartment if I had nothing to read over Shabbos, or that I would come without reading material.... but then again we did have to come up for air) he didn't drool over the women. He was the one who said that normal people don't look like that. WOW!!! You gotta love a man like that. Plus the fact that he constantly told me I was beautiful even after Shabbos and I was going home.

He looked into my eyes when he talked to me. Believe it or not he wasn't just looking at my body... although, he did mention certain parts he liked. I didn't feel the need to say "Ugh, I hate my ______" when he complimented me and I didn't even think it. Maybe I'm just feeling more self-assured these days. But I really believe that it was because he was into me (pun intended) as a whole not as just individual body parts even if he did have certain preferences.

I don't know if he and I will do this again, (I most definitely wouldn't mind) but I don't regret a minute of it. He made me feel like a woman who was respected, loved and cared for. I came first (don't even say anything... I'm not going to touch this one) in his eyes. There was no pressure, just acceptance. I hope that all of you guys out there either have or will have someone who looks at you and treats you like this. I know I'm going to be looking for it the next time I date someone.

It is obvious that even without the relocation matter he and I would probably not have ended up together. I want someone who I can talk to about books and I imagine he would want someone who understands Yiddish. But there was just no judging by either of us. While he read his Yiddish paper I read Einstein's Universe. Maybe having someone to talk to about science isn't so important. I think I'm going to have to think about that for awhile. This past Shabbos really has changed the way I view things. I welcome the idea of looking at the world or people in a different manner than I previously had.

We spent most of Shabbos in his bed, and it was SO MUCH FUN. Never thought that I would enjoy Shabbos in Borough Park let alone in this manner. I highly recommend it!!!!!!

And now I think I need to get some rest. I'm kind of worn out and that's an understatement.

The Unanswerable Question

Why does red soda explode? And why does it ALWAYS explode? It doesn't matter what color red it is (bright popsicle cherry red or dark black cherry red). They always explode. The only way to prevent the spray from ending up on you is to turn the bottle cap slightly to release some of the fizz. I would suggest that you still have a paper towel handy because sometimes even then the soda manages to get out. Is it something in the color red?

DB always loves the exploding soda and when asked in the store which one he wants for his Shabbos treat he almost always chooses a red one. On the rare occasion when he chooses orange soda he tries to get away with shaking it before he brings it to the table so that he can watch the orange fountain spray all over me.

Would love to know if anyone has the answer to this question.

Please Don't Pump On May 15th

The cost of gasoline is very important to me. I have a limited amount of money right now (divorce, and all that comes with it) and I drive to Kansas just about every other weekend. It adds up!!! So when my dad forwarded the following e-mail to me it hit home.

In April 1997, there was a "gas out" conducted nationwide in protest of gas prices. Gasoline prices dropped 30 cents a gallon overnight. On May 15th 2007, all internet users are to not go to a gas station in protest of high gas prices. Gas is now over $3.00 a gallon in most places. There are 73,000,000+ American members currently on the internet network, and the average car takes about 30 to 50 dollars to fill up. If all users did not go to the pump on the 15th, it would take $2,292,000,000.00 (that's almost 3 BILLION) out of the oil companies pockets for just one day, so please do not go to the gas station on May 15th and lets try to put a dent in the Middle Eastern oil industry for at least one day. If you agree (which I cant see why you wouldn't) resend this to all your contact list. With it saying, ''Don't pump gas on May 15th"

There is absolutely no reason for gas prices to be as high as they are right now, and changes can take place when people join together. Even if you drive a gas guzzling SUV without a care about gas prices, or don't believe it can work, think of this single mother paying for overpriced gasoline just so DB and I can spend Shabbos with the ones we love. So make sure that your gas tanks are filled on the 14th and don't pump gas on May 15th.

On The Road Again... And Again

Yup, we're headed back to Kansas again tomorrow for Shabbos. I'll pick up DB from school and away we'll go. As much as I love to drive, I wouldn't complain if DB finished his transporter/time machine, and all we would have to do is jump in, press a button and presto... we would be in Kansas. I almost considered staying in Oz for the weekend, but if I have a choice I'd rather be in Kansas.

Since I won't be in Oz, I won't be going out on any dates this weekend which is kinda good. For some reason I'm just not into it right now. Maybe it's because I'm absolutely exhausted from Yontif and all the driving, but I really think it's just a lot to take in at once. Of course, I had to open a can of worms and write back to this man who said he would not relocate. No it's not NM. It's this man (yes, I wrote man as opposed to guy) that I was corresponding with recently. There is this air about him of adultness (shoot me... I know it's not a word but it fits) of surety about who he is and want he wants. This is someone that I thought I had a chance with... a real chance.

Anyway, he was on Frumster today and I gave in to the temptation of looking at his profile. (I was torturing myself by looking at what I couldn't have, and I was also hoping that he would write to me again. He did just that and gave me an opening to write back. Soooooo..... I did. And gave him my number too. I got his in return. We haven't talked yet and I'm still not sure if I want to. Actually, I do want to talk to him and hear his voice, but I know that I shouldn't.

Bud was great, and tried to get it into my head that I am just sabotaging myself by starting this. I wonder why I'm pulled to people who don't want to relocate. It's not that I search them out or try to hide the fact that I'm moving. As soon as they contact me (except for Mr. Man) I let them know immediately that I'm relocating so that it won't be a problem later on... if there is a later on. Is a part of me not ready not to get involved with someone? Or maybe I'm afraid to get involved if I know it will lead to....... the m-word. See, I don't even want to write the whole word.

Ya know it's getting late and I'm going to try to stop thinking... Yeah, right, I'd like to see that... me not thinking about things and analyzing....

Things always look different in the morning. Well, not always, but sometimes.

Good Shabbos

Just Very Busy

I'm a little annoyed I wrote this post before I left Kansas and completely lost it on the computer at my mom's. This is what I remembered.

I haven't written lately because I've been so busy. Here's a synopsis of what's been going on this past week....

DB and I went to Kansas for Purim late Sat. night and had a blast. We saw friends and family and I couldn't stop smiling and laughing... even without alcohol. Then drove back to Oz late Sunday night. Saw Charm Monday.... I was looking forward to his visit even though I was exhausted and had seen him on Friday. The next day was spent taking care of a beautiful 4 year old little boy with dark hair and a bowl cut. His brown eyes and dimple on his left cheek make him hard to resist. Even though he 's low on the autistic spectrum, I'm exhausted after spending a few hours with him. That probably comes from chasing him around in circles through the kitchen, dining room and living room while I'm pushing a toy lawnmower. Definitely a sight to see, but worth it when he falls on the floor giggling. When I ask him whether he thinks I like him a little or a lot. He responds with "A LOT!" and he's absolutely right.

That night I got very sick and couldn't function for a couple of days. I found out later that there was this neurovirus (don't know if that's the correct spelling) going around Jersey. I finally felt well enough to go back down to Kansas for Shabbos. I gave a little old man a ride to shul and then passed out before hearing kiddush. Probably still recuperating...

Today I visited this amazing, fantastic, caring school. It is most definitely the right place for DB. I just hope and pray that we will be able to relocate. The grounds are near a stable and the kids ride and groom the horses. There's a pond (frogs included) a zip line and rock wall to climb. It looks like so much fun. I want to go. AND they are taught all the basics and don't proceed to a new skill until the first one is completely mastered. All the therapies are included and the ratio is 1:5, but most of the time 1:2. Wow!

Tonight or rather last night since it's almost 6 a.m. I drove back to Oz again. I had to pack up the car, the cat, and the kid. I know I'm going to be feeling it later this week, but I really needed the caffeine and once I got in I couldn't go to sleep. I'm sure that within the next two weeks I will have little time to sleep. Hopefully some of that will be because I will spend some time with Charm. Can't get enough of the man......

I'll write more later... I have several posts that I am in the middle of and I want to respond to some that people have written. I might do that now or maybe I'll just workout. Who am I kidding?

Falling.... For Flowers

I love flowers. I really do. I love paintings of flowers and knowing the different types by names and what time of year they bloom. I love open fields blanketed in rainbows gone wild.... I love giving them, planting them, picking them, and arranging them. I love the smiles that appear on strangers faces when you walk down the street with a bouquet.... but being given flowers is what I love the most (even more so if they're unexpected).

In the summer, DB picks dandelions by the handful and brings them to me. When we're in "Kansas" and he's through playing in the dirt searching for fossils and bugs in Bubbi's backyard he'll pick some of the flowers from her garden. They peek out from behind his back and he tells me to quickly shut my eyes. "NO PEEKING!" When I open them he has a beatific smile on his sweaty face and with his arm thrust straight out says "These are for you Mommy. Smell them." After I take them from his grubby hand, I sniff deeply, bend down, look in his eyes and tell him that they are the most beautiful and best smelling flowers ever, ever. I give him a hug and a kiss, and the aroma of the fresh cut grass sticking to his skin drifts around us. He wriggles out of my arms while I brush his hair back and dust the dirt off his knees. Then off he goes with a skip in his step, his chest stuck out proud, searching for more.

The thoughts of flowers came to mind because Charm brought me some. No, he didn't bring them as an apology. He most definitely hadn't done something wrong. And no, it wasn't my birthday, and wasn't a "Happy Anniversary, we've been dating for three months" because it hasn't even been three months. It wasn't because I was feeling down.... I've been me... very happy (since I realized what was bugging me and I let it go ). And it was most certainly not because he was "trying to get lucky"..... he knew very well he would be getting lucky (it was mikvah night). BOY, did he get lucky.... And he didn't even tell me he was bringing me something.

I haven't gotten flowers from someone over the age of eight.... in years and years.... never got them for my birthday, anniversaries, Shavuos, when I was sick, and not even when DB was born. In order to have flowers for Shabbos, I would have to go out and buy them. Yes, I dropped hints, subtle and not so subtle, but it didn't work. UGH!!!! It sounds so.... so pathetic. That's a good description for the marriage. Let's stop talking about that and get back to the fact that I GOT FLOWERS!!!!! YAY!!!!!

You wouldn't believe how I felt. I was kind of surprised at how it touched me. The flowers made me feel thought of, special, feminine, and un-mommylike. Getting a little teary just thinking about it. Yeah, yeah it's just flowers, but it means more to me than just that.... plus, I'm a girl and we are allowed to get emotional and NOOOOO!!! I'm not "pms"ing.

It's these little things that Charm does like open the door for me, comment on what I'm wearing, give me chocolate (godiva chocolate, no less) and bring me flowers. "He likes me, he really likes me" OK, I know I'm sounding kind of dorky and mushy and well......

Am I falling....... just because of........ flowers??

Shabbos With DB

DB (darling boy) and I spent Shabbos together at home in Oz this past week. I just realized that a nickname I use for DB is munch or munchie. It's short for munchkin or munchkin face..... I guess we're really not in Kansas. Anyway, we had planned on going to friends, but it didn't work out. We also weren't able to go to Kansas because Shabbos starts too early right now and I'm not going to risk getting caught on the road. Shul was out because I don't want to waste my energy on people who used to be my friends but now ignore me when I wish them Good Shabbos. I thought that DB and I might be a little lonely, but instead we had a great time together..... a lot of game playing, reading, and talking.

For some reason there wasn't the pre-Shabbos craziness that usually happens. Even though I had to cook a little on Friday, it was enjoyable. The music was on and I was singing and dancing around the apartment. It reminded me of Thursday nights when my mom would be cooking for Shabbos and Neil Diamond was playing on the 8-track. She'd grab my hands and dance me around the kitchen. It's a habit that I picked up except DB and I were listening to Bare Naked Ladies. He likes their music and just realized the name of the band and loves to say it.... so he smirks and says "Mom, let's listen to the naked ladies." He really is turning into a boy because when I read to him on Shabbos he tried to hide his giggle when I said the word penalized. I wasn't positive about the reason for his laughter until he told me "penalized, penis." Yup, he's a boy.

DB told me something that I was almost positive about. When he was giving tzedaka right before licht benching DB mentioned, "Daddy doesn't start Shabbos this early. He starts it after it's dark outside." This is one of those times that I wish that DB wasn't so observant and aware. His dad is definitely not shomer Shabbos when they are together. He wasn't when we were married so why should anything be different now. It's just an act he puts on for his friends and family.

DB started hitting me with questions, "How come Daddy doesn't start Shabbos the same time as us? When is the right time to start Shabbos? Is it Shabbos for my cousins now? (They live in Eretz Yisrael) Is it Shabbos for Bubbi now?" I decided to ignore the first question and instead started explaining to him how his cousins had already started Shabbos and were now sound asleep. Of course that statement got him thinking and we had to pull out the globe. We got into a discussion about the difference between the earth's rotations and revolutions around the sun. He forgot about his father for the moment, but I know it's still in the back of his mind. I will not speak bad about his dad to DB, but he's a bright boy and sees people for who they are without any help from me. It made me sad to hear him tell me that "Daddy is a liar, Mommy." I try to play these things down, but I am not going to make excuses for his behavior.

Back to our wonderful Shabbos, we sang and talked about the parsha, and how the mishkan was built. DB went straight for the Lego "to build a replica to scale" and he wanted me to give him the exact measurements.... Where does he pick up these things? It was finally time for bed.... I had been ready for over an hour.... We read two more chapters of Gulliver's Travels. Didn't know it was possible to read in my sleep, but the next day I couldn't remember any part of Chapter 13 and was about to start it when DB informed me that we were now on Chapter 14.

Of course since it was Shabbos, DB woke me before six!! When I asked him why he woke up earlier than during the week it was "because I want to play with you." So play we did.... first came chess and he beat me on his own. In my defense it still wasn't even seven yet and my brain wasn't functioning. Then we played masterpiece, othello, mastermind.... inside the clubhouse he built out of chairs and blankets. Oh! Don't forget yugioh. I have no idea how to play and I am soooooooo bored by that game so whenever DB isn't looking I stick another card into the sofa cushions so it will end faster. The whole day went by without any whining or DB getting angry. WOW!!!! Maybe all he needed was some time with me. The best part of Shabbos was the warm content feeling I got inside when we were cuddled up on the sofa under a blanket while we read our books.

Thank G-d for Shabbos and DB.