Go With the Flow
The trick to the breakfast buffet with three small kids is to arrive ahead of the crowds.
Today was our longest day of driving. We covered over 266 miles. Which comprised 266 miles of “are we there yet?” and “I can’t take it anymore!”. I think there was some lovely scenery too.
Tired kids + tired mommy = change of plans. Decided to postphone Jelly Belly Factory Tour and head straight to the hotel. Rerouting ourselves, we arrived ahead of check-in. Which was fine since all any of us wanted to do at that point was get to the pool.
(Actually, after 266 miles with my kvetchy kids, what I really wanted was the bar. But it wasn’t even 3:00 in the afternoon. And it didn’t seem right to stick the sitter with all three kids.)
A perfect respite. Plus it gave me a chance to teach the kids a new Yiddish word.
M’cheiya = refreshing, life-saver
(Remind me to tell you my m’cheiya story when I get back from camp.)
The water temperature was nothing short of perfect. An hour-and-a-half of fun and frolicking.
Where has the time gone? When did I become the parent, responsible for driving and making reservations? All my siblings and I cared about was staying in a hotel with a pool. And HBO. We had only Showtime at home so it was very thrilling to watch HBO. One summer, we saw “Grease 2” every single day of our vacation.
My kids are no different. “OH — that hotel is SO nice,” gushed Poppyseed as we drove past a motel with a pool in the parking lot. Note to Poppyseed’s future husband — skip the fancy digs. Motel 6 apparently meets my daughter’s standards.
One final observation. Risky to bring a baby who has had insufficient sleep into a restaurant.
Laila tov from the Napa Valley.
A SLO Start
Note to self–
Do not forget the following items next year:
1. Pack & Play (whoops!!)
2. Baby monitor
3. Poppyseed’s blue blankie
4. Poppyseed’s menagerie of stuffed animals
5. Water Bottles for the car
On the up side —
It was a really smart idea to bring blankets. The hotel didn’t have one for the crib and Peach was a little cold. And individual journals for the big kids was a stoke of genuis! It is interesting to see what is making an impression on them.
We drove as far as San Luis Obispo. It took longer than anticipated. Quite likely due to an unscheduled squabble stop. “A squabble stop?” you may wonder. Somewhere north of Thousand Oaks there was a yelp from the way back. Beernut was really tired and had put down his head on Poppyseed’s toy box. And she was less than gracious.
I have a no fighting rule in the car. I just can’t concentrate on the road with two screaming kids in the back. So we pulled over so that I could reaarange the seating.
With a bathroom stop in Summerland and then a dinner stop in Santa Maria, we rolled into SLO after 8:00pm. Too late for the kids’ program. Too late for the manager’s reception. And too late for the pool.
Tomorrow IS another day!
Road Trip!!
The Frummies are going on a road trip!! Well, most of us are going. PC has to stay home 😦
So I guess the rewrite would read: The Frummettes and I and a mother’s helper are going on a road trip!!
We have to get up to URJ Camp Newman by Monday afternoon so we are leaving tomorrow. That will give me a chance to show the kidlets this great state of ours.
So I’ll write from the road.
Have a great Shabbat!!!
Ice Ice Baby
PC and I enjoy throwing parties. We don’t get a chance to host as often as we would like. Crazy life…crazy hours…that kind of stuff. Several times a year, though, we do manage to pull it all together and with guests comes the need for drinks. And the need for ice.
Frozen water. Seems so funny to pay for frozen water. But we need ice and we don’t have an industrial ice maker so…eh, we pay for the ice. To tell you the truth, I never thought much about it. After all, it’s such a small percentage of the overall cost of throwing a “small” BBQ for 20 or 30 relatives. Apparently, however, there is quite the scandal in the world of packaged ice.
Apparently there are 3 major ice companies and for the past several years, they have cornered the market on ice. To the tune of $1.8 MILLION dollars.
That’s a lot of ice.
Automotive Entitlement
Me: I think that even if I made millions of dollars every year, I would still drive my Toyota Sienna. I really love it and I just can’t imagine spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on something like a car.
Bar-Mitzvah Student: That’s probably because you’ve never sat behind the wheel of a Lamborghini.
Me: You’re twelve years old! Have you sat behind the wheel of a Lamborghini?
Bar-Mitzvah Student (sheepishly): Actually Rabbi, my friend’s dad has one and let me try it out.
Driving the freeways and streets of SoCal means sharing the road with a lot of fancy schmancy cars. Not to mention the fancy shmancy drivers of the aforementioned fancy shmancy cars (FShC).
Something bizarre seems to happen when one gets behind the wheel of a BMW or Audi or Mercedes-Benz or what have you. An overwhelming sense of entitlement takes over, causing the driver to behave in a most unseemly manner. No longer do the rules of the road apply to the driver of the FShC. No. Rules are for suckers. Rules are for the automotively-disadvantaged.
Drivers of the FShC can tailgate because wherever they are going is most definitely more important than where the Honda is going.
Drivers of the FShC can snag the parking spot because (again) wherever they are going is most definitely more important than where the (gasp!) Kia is going.
Drivers of the FShC can park in the handicapped spot WITHOUT displaying the mandatory placard or plate because why should they walk to the very important place they are going.
It’s not jealousy because I was honest when I told that student that I would be perfectly content driving my mini-van. I really don’t see the purpose of spending so much money on a car. I’m not into cars and would much rather spend my money in other ways.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to come down with an acute case of Automotive Entitlement.
Don’t Say It Unless You Mean It
I don’t really follow sports. Mostly because I have little interest in what’s happening on the field, court, diamond, what-have-you. And partially because there is a whole subculture thing that doesn’t make much sense to me.
Take team loyalty. For some reason, I had always thought that a person roots for one team over another based on geography. I was born in the Holy City so if I liked baseball, I would be a Reds fan. My sister was born in New Jersey which doesn’t have a ML baseball team. But my Dad is from LA and my Mom is from Brooklyn so she could be a Dodger fan. And so on. Players may come and players may go. But the team…
Of course teams come and go too. Just ask my grandparents.
Many months ago, I noticed a young mom (native Californian) wearing an unfamiliar team jersey. Unfamiliar insofar as it wasn’t any of our local teams. Casually inquiring, I asked “hey, I’m curious about your connection to Wisconsin.” She looked at me blankly so I continued, “you know, your shirt?)
“Oh. I have no connection to Wisconsin. I’m just a huge Green Bay Packers fan. Plus, I LOVE Brett Favre!”
She explained to me that he was “like, the greatest quarterback EVER.”
“What if he gets traded or something,” I countered. I’ve heard of players being traded so I knew that it was a possibility.
“That will NEVER happen. He’s been there since 1992.”
“I see. Doesn’t have make him close to retirement?” I wondered.
“No way. He’s like not even 40”
Which is technically a true, albeit grammatically weak, statement. He’s “like” gonna be 39 in October, making him awfully close to 40.
I had pretty much forgotten about the conversation until today when I heard a news story on Day-to-Day about the possible return of Favre to the Packers…or some other team.
Whoa. Return? Did I miss something?
[Bear with me if you know all the back story. Not EVERYONE follows sports as closely as you do.]
Back in March, Favre held a huge press conference announcing his retirement from professional football. According to his agent, Favre was “not pushed out the door but then nobody encouraged him not to go out that door either. I don’t think he had a lot of encouragement to stay, but nobody told him to leave either.” Meaning?
Anyway, the Packers scheduled the jersey retirement party for September 8 and end of story.
Or so they thought.
A few months later, rumours emerged that Favre had had a change of heart and had sent word to the Packers organization that he wished to return. The Packers were understandably reluctant to welcome Favre back given they had accepted HIS DECISION to retire and was already looking forward to a future that did not include him. Mere days passed when Favre then decided that the desire to play ball was so strong that he requested an unconditional release so that he could play for another team.
Fans are, as fans usually are, divided on the issue. Some want him to stay. And others had already made a certain peace with his retirement and have moved past it. Some feel that Favre has been wronged and that the organization has treated him really shabbily. And if they really valued him, they would allow him to play for as long as he wants and on his terms.
I guess they missed the part of the story where Favre — and NOT the Packers — decided that it was time for retirement. It was his idea and it WAS on his terms. When an individual decides to retire, he (or she) should really mean it and not use it as a tactic. It’s not effective. It’s not constructive. And it’s not honest, either.
Sunday Reading
Time for this week’s edition of Haveil Havalim! Many thanks to Little FrumHouse on the Prairie for doing such a visually wonderful layout in addition to compliling a great list of reads.
Divine Noise
Do you remember that line from Fiddler on the Roof?
“Rabbi, is there a blessing for the Tsar?”
“May God bless and keep the Tsar…far away from us!”
The point of that line was to teach us that yes, there is a blessing for everything. Even for an earthquake.
To be really honest, it wasn’t the official prayer that I said at 11:42 a.m. this Tuesday past. The only prayer that came to mind was the Sh’ma – which is traditionally recited at the time of death and before going to sleep. Can’t quite recall if I actually thought it was “The Big One,” but I figured it was better to cover my bases.
So yes, there is a prayer for everything and this is the prayer to recite after having experienced an earthquake:
Baruch Ata Adonai,Eloheinu Melech haolam oseh ma’aseh v’reisheet.
Praised are You, O God, Sovereign of the Universe, who makes the works of Creation.
Good going, God. Thanks for creating our entire world. And for making it shake beneath our very feet. And for knocking things off the walls.
I don’t know why this was the prayer chosen for an earthquake. If I was in charge of the Prayer Assignment Committee (not a real committee, BTW), I would have selected this blessing:
Baruch Ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech haolam, shekocho u’g’vurato malei olam.Praised are You, O God, Sovereign of the Universe, whose Power and Might pervade the world.
The sensation of a temblor is very unsettling. We continue to live as though we stand on terra firma . When we feel the ground roll and see buildings and trees sway, we are suddenly left with the impression that there is indeed a Force more powerful and unpredictable than anything we can create.
Perhaps the rabbis, in their infinite wisdom, meant for us to understand that as frightening as an earthquake can be, it is not a purposeful display of God’s might. Rather, it is part and parcel of living with the tectonic features of our planet and the seismic movement should therefore be celebrated as one of the works of Creation.
Biblical term for earthquake?
Ra’ash Adonai. The noise of God.
Be Prepared
It’s a good motto.
It’s certainly worked for the Scouts. Since 1907, as a matter of fact.
I wore heels to work today. I wear heals most days. It’s a height thing (or lackthereof). And it’s not usually a problem given my parking spot is approximately two yards from the front door.
But it’s been a crazy week here in SoCal. Perhaps you heard about the temblor we had yesterday at approximately 11:42am!
[I was at the cemetery which would have made me first in line if that darn wall crypt had fallen over. I was “visiting” my grandparents, great-grandparents, and aunt and uncle before a funeral. S-C-A-R-Y! Things were rattling around…and it was fairly disconcerting.]
Anyway, there was a break in the main gas line outside the shul today. Not a big deal…except that there was not car access to the parking lot. Also not a big deal…except that I had to park miles and miles and miles away. OK, not really. But in heels… It was a LONG block.
What was most amazing is how quickly the city tore up the street, fixed the problem, and had that hot tar flowing.
Amazing how motivating a little gas can be.
So first of all, a sturdy pair of shoes should be in the trunk of any car for just such an emergency. And next, I think that it is time to review our disaster plan.
Mark your calendar if you live in the Southland:
Giving Thanks
You may recall a recent cleaning expedition that resulted in my cherished memories being whittled down from eleven boxes to five.
Yes, much of it made it into the recylcing bin (where appropriate) or the dumpster. Some was carefully repacked into storage boxes. And some of it has made the journey to my study at shul. Like a set of shtetl dolls that my grandmother gave to me. And the little Torah I received at Consecration. I also found a lengthy reply from Senator Alan Cranston z”l (CA-D) responding to a letter that I must have sent to him during the first Lebanon War.
I have always written letters to people I have never met. Sometimes it is for a major cause. Like the letters I used to write to President Carter on behalf of Soviet refusniks. More recently, I write a letter to the author of a book or essay that I have enjoyed. That has given me something new to consider. Or to rethink a position to which I stubbornly cling.
I do it all the time. And you know what? The recipient always replies with a grateful response.
I can’t thank you enough for your kind words about my essay… You’ve reminded me to do the same when I read something that speaks to me.
or
Thank you so much for letting me know that my research was useful in this effort. You were so kind to take the time to let me know…Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!
It is easy to criticize. But does it really take any more time to praise?
Look what is happening over at Juggling Frogs. A monthly opportunity to show appreciation to others. (Thanks to Nad-Ned Nad-Ned for spreading the good word!)
Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
Comments made during this time will be held in a queue, to be moderated afterwards.
Thank you for your understanding...and gut Shabbos!!! 
Frume Sarah's World 