Bed and Breakfast, and Lunch, and Dinner, and Breakfast, and Chauffer, and entertainment

We are hosting a group of Hayley's camp friends for the weekend. I was looking forward to getting to know them a little better, sitting around the dinner table, listening to their cute teenaged conversations, and providing a warm and inviting place for the girls to re-bond and re-connect.

I spent the morning at Genuardi's yesterday, carefully meal planning for the next three days, (not to mention buying last minute X-Mas gifts), with, I dare say, visions of happy teens dancing in my head.

I have now served three meals, and 75% of those I am serving aren't even interested in eating what I've prepared. Reheating pre-packaged mashed potatoes and plain pasta would have been enough.

They barely sit still long enough to finish their food, and g-d forbid they can carry on a conversation with anyone but eachother. Any little funny joke I make goes over like a lead balloon. (Oh my g-d, I'm the embarrassing mother). They left the dinner table last night, and not one little guest bothered to clear her (paper) plate and (plastic) silverware.

They were bored, within an hour or so, and then the conversation went to, can we go to the movies? (Why can't you just rent something, or for heavens sake, why not watch a movie in our own library?) Or, maybe, they can have people over. Okay, I acquiesce, how about three or four. A half hour later 9 more people walk in the house.

They hung out fairly quietly *okay, I admit it, i did fall asleep for an hour watching Shrek with Addie*, but I woke up to the sound of Conner (name changed to protect the family's good name) chasing Christina around the house with a toilet plunger.

The camp girls slept til 11, then joined us for brunch. Again, my cooking was not a hit. Instead of french toast bread pudding with warm maple syrup, the girls mostly ate life cereal. And as we sat around the breakfast table, I realized that they had no interest in our company, they saw just eachother. And their cell phones. At one point during the meal, each girl was busy talking or texting on her cell phone. It was obnoxious.

Anyway, I only have another day, til we redeliver them back to their parents. I'm glad to provide an opportunity to be with their pals, but I kind of wish I felt appreciated. Instead, I feel a little like the hired help.

Oy, this was depressing, didn't mean for this to sound so sad. I'm really not, just needed to vent and one day remember what a giving mommy I am.

xoxo

Okay

Is it okay to just be fine? Lately, I'm running into a lot of people, people from my past, people I once knew and know now and it has occurred to me, I'm really boring. At this point in life, people have so much baggage and drama! I have comfort and security (not that I'm complaining), but I feel a little like the odd man out.

"What have you been doing for the past 25 years?" I have (select what you like:) traveled around the world/married and divorced/ adopted from another country/received my masters and phd/ been a doctor - lawyer in space/ wrote and performed on my own cd/ learned how to play the guitar/ met fascinating people/ earned a lot of money/ lived independently/remarried/ refurbished a house/ left my career to seek my dreams/acted in community theatre/worked for a secret government agency/opened my own restaurant/have a huge social circle/moved to another state/ moved to another country/started my own charitable foundation/starred in an independent movie/found a cure for the common cold/gave birth to a child prodigy/ invented post-it notes/wrote a screenplay/bred weimereimers/kept up with my blog/all of the above.

I AM NOT COMPLAINING. I REPEAT - NOT COMPLAINING. But it almost feels like, "I got married, have three kids, 2 dogs, one fish and a mini-van/my laundry never gets done/I host Thanksgiving and Passover/never miss Project Runway and American Idol/go to summer camp/visit the Genuardi's twice a week/never miss a parent-teacher conference/make my kids buy their lunch instead of brown bagging it/keep up with my facebook" sounds just...I don't know, boring?

To be honest, though, this is everything I every wanted. I don't set the world on fire, but there is dinner on the table every night, security, comfort, a bundle of I LOVE YOU's every day and a little teenaged aggravation to spice it up.

Frankly, I feel like I'm living proof of happily ever after.

I'm Back, I think

I haven't been writing, cause I haven't felt like it. Life is complex, parenting is complex, and I'm not always in a good "bloggy" kind of mood.

But I realized today, if Susan (Wendi's friend) can be blogging from Russia while adopting her (beautiful) little girl, I can find I few minutes in my kitchen to say a few words.

Latest news in my life:
I joined the gym. I hate it, but I love my husband, so I'll show up now and then.
Bat Mitzvah is nearing, I'm getting nervous, but I'm so excited. The girls are starting to step up to the plate.
Half of my family has now decided to be vegetarians. Whoo hoo. Dinner's are going to be fun to cook.
Nutri-System gets really old after a few months.
I found my old pal, from high school, Sue. We'd lost touch years ago, and I found her by way of youtube. Boy, 25 can melt in an instant when talking to someone so dear.
Facebook is my latest obsession.
I organized all of our cd's and dvd's so now we can find them.
Cleaned out the freezer yesterday. Found year old roast beef. Can't serve it anyway cause I'm living in a house of vegetarians.
Found amazing video of Lionel Hampton featuring dear "Uncle" Milt Buckner. I can't get over it. Milt is the piano player practically jumping out of his seat. He was a fixture in my childhood, staying with us when in the Philly area, and always as warm and loving as can be. I don't think I ever understood, until very recently, what an extraordinary talent he was, and how privileged we were to have him in our life. He died in 1977 (I think), and although we weren't related by blood, I will always remember him as part of our family.

Happy Halloween

I haven't posted in a long time, because life has been busy and extremely challenging. (When I say Colic was Easier, I"M NOT KIDDING!!!!)

Anyway, I had to share this amazing video made by a co-worker of my hubby. He is an incredibly talented (and extremely nice) guy who carves pumpkins every Halloween that will AMAZE you.

How is it that some people are so gifted??????

Enjoy!

Survived

We survived Hayley's birthday party.

The kids, spent their evening jumping on the trampoline, playing on the swingset, bouncing balls in the basement and throwing food.

(Note to self, next time I let my kid have a party, I will not place an unsupervised buffet in the basement).

There is Chex Mix in every crevice of the Berber Carpet in the Basement. There are grape tomatoes in between sofa cushions. There is celery stuck to the ceiling.

According to Hayley, it was the greatest party ever. Why? Because they had a huge food fight.

Glad we could oblige.

On the plus side, I limited my daughter to the number of participants, and she complied. In fact, as the parents were picking the kids up, I spotted a couple of party crashers in the front of the house. ("Hi Mrs. Clark, we thought we should stop by") Who lets there kid prance around the neighborhood at 10:30 at night?

She received a TON of money. These kids were very generous, which was not at all necessary, but now she can pay for her own clothes.

Her friend Halle brought a 1/2 gallon of milk (meelk), and it was skim. Yay.

We got to spend the evening with Sam and Lisa, who helped chaperone. Thank G-d. We couldn't have done it without them.

So, except for the fact that our house lost some of its value due to the mess in the basement, and the fact that the neighbors probably want to strangle us, it wasn't to bad.

We made it.

One down, how many more to go????????????????????????????

Terrified

Happy Birthday to my Hayley who has turned 14 today. OY is right.

I'm getting the house ready for 20 of her closest 13/14 year old friends (boys and girls) to hang out with her.

I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared. What do I do with them? Do I have enough food? Are they going to play kissing games? I hope their parents pick them up on time. I hope they don't destroy my house.

Why am I so scared? I used to be 14 years old, and I wasn't nearly as cool as this group of friends. I hope I can handle this!!!!!

Arrrrrggghhhh!

Loopy's Big Day

I had the most wonderful weekend. My youngest played soccer on Friday night, my middle attended two Bar Mitzvah's (her first as a 7th grader, but she's been to five already), and I packed up my oldest and her pal and drove to Secaucus on Saturday Morning to attend an event my sister had organized. The guests were all families in the process of adopting babies from China, which is an amazing, but very slow process. I got the best job of the day, which was entertaining the children, who needed to be kept busy, so their parents could gather information from the three speakers my sis had lined up. (My sister is incredible).

About three years ago, I taught myself face-painting, and kept busy for a while at childrens birthday parties and fundraisers turning boys in to Spiderman, and the like and making princesses out of little girls. I even registered as a "certified clown" in order to obtain insurance. (My clown name, LOOPY) I gave up doing it professionally, as I had a lot on my plate with my other business, camp responsibilities etc etc.

But I was so happy to dig out my facepaints and work with these gorgeous little faces yesterday. They were such beautiful little girls, that I hated even covering them up. But they love it so much, and I think their parents got a kick out of it, too.

It's such a fun thing to do, I'm considering going back to it again, to make a little extra $$. I just have so little confidence in my skills, that I feel guilty accepting money. That's ridiculous, I know, its just how I am.

It was a great change of pace, it was great to meet my sisters wonderful friends, Susan, Audrey, Jean, Chris and Ruth (and plenty of others). It was amazing to be around people who are expectant parents, in the very beginning of their journey. (Maybe one day, they'll REALLY understand my "Colic was Easier" theory. ) I was told I look like Melissa Gilbert, which I've heard before, but really don't see). I got to meet Jeff Gammage, a Philadelphia Inquirer writer, and the author of an amazing book, China Ghosts. (I recommend it highly, heartfelt and beautifully written, I couldn't put it down). I can't say I've ever gotten to shake hands with an author whose book I've read. (Wait, I take it back, I got to meet Jennifer Weiner, In Her Shoes, Good in Bed, etc. but this was still really cool).

I got to spend some nice quality time with my oldest daughter and her best pal. They are so cute together, they laugh at silly things, stay up late, listen to music, sing songs and go on the internet constantly. They were absolutely adorable.

So, thank you to my sister, for including me in your endeavors, being supportive of me, my children, my business and my diet. l for the wonderful opportunity and fun day. It was perfect.

Lost Dog

Today started out like any other. The kids dressed for school, quick breakfasts, bus pick-up and then I came home to get myself organized. Today, like all days, I spoke first to my mother. The dogs were barking like crazy in the background, and she suggested I open the door and "set them free". I then sat down to check my e-mail and update my Nutri-System weight journal (I've lost 7 lbs after 2 weeks!). The dogs, Roxy the terrier and Freddie the bichon, were, as usual, out on our screened in porch where they enjoy barking at squirrels and laying in the sunny spots.

The doorbell rang. It was Sheryl, my neighbor. "Do you have Roxy?" she asked.
"She's out back," I replied.
"The lady down the street just saw a little brown dog running through her yard"

I slammed the door in Sheryl's face, (which I didn't mean to do) and found no sign of Roxy on the porch. Evidence of her escape, a ripped screen.

Okay, now what? I'll never find her at this point. We live in the woods, right off a major highway. She's either in the woods, or she's roadkill. I call my husband. I grab my other dog. I call her name. I offer her a slice of bologna (her favorite). No Roxy. I take to my car and ease my way around the neighborhood, asking the trashmen, the joggers, the contractors, the walkers if they've seen her.

Oh, joy. I pull around to my neighbors house, and see her. She's in the driveway, and the moment she spots me, she takes off at lightning speed. She has now crossed the street, and in major woods. I'm not going in there. She appears and runs away three more times. One man spots her in his yard, but she took off to the right. She runs across the street, two cars stop and offer help. I can't get her. I call Gregg again. This time he says he's on his way home. But we can't get her.

I come home deflated, and frustrated. I call three animal shelters and make a LOST DOG sign.
I tell Wendi. She starts to cry. She has such a big heart. I'm more angry at the dog, and concerned about how the girls are going to react. I hope Gregg will help me deal with this announcement, I don't think I can do alone. I think to myself, well, this is going to be a life lesson about grief. Their first.

I go outside to post the sign on our community bulletin board. A little embarrassed that we still haven't put up a fence. After all, this is the 6th or 7th time the dog has gotten loose. But she's never been gone this long. Its been three hours.

I slowly drive around to the street behind our house, knowing that this is futile and fearing I might see her little body wounded or worse on the side of the road. I hear a faint bark, that is familiar. Is that her? It's so high pitched and upset, I worry that she is hurt. The bark gets louder and louder, and I pull into the nearest driveway. I've found her. She's barking like mad at a little black cat perched in a tree. She attempts to run several times, but she's far too interested in this black cat to run away and disappear. I call her three more times. She won't come to me and if I approach her, she'll run, I know it. So I call "Here, Kitty Kitty", and the cat makes it way over to me. The CAT. At this point Roxy is so distracted, that she slows down enough for me to grab her.

When we return, she walks directly to her familiar water bowl, and takes a nice long drink. She snuggles into her comfy pillow in the kitchen, and settles in for her nap. DOES SHE EVEN KNOW HOW LUCKY SHE IS??? DOES SHE EVEN KNOW SHE COULD HAVE BEEN HURT, PUT IN A SHELTER, OR KILLED??

Of course not, just like my kids, the comforts and familiarity of home is taken for granted. She had her adventure. She had her fun. And now she's home safe.

Thank goodness for happy endings.

My life.

Mom
Homework helper
Laundress
Limo Driver
Nurse
Dieter
Cook
Personal Shopper
Accountant
File Clerk
Tutor
Story Reader
Beautician
Daughter
Sister
Friend

Busy

New Person

As mothers, we naturally put our the needs of our family in front of our own personal needs. That's okay. The problem is when our family's "wants" come before our needs. For most of my motherhood years, I have put myself on the back-burner.

As a single girl, I watched my diet, enjoyed shopping and putting myself together. Had my nails done weekly, spent a lot of time at the hair salon. As a mother, I skip meals, go to the hairdresser only 3 or four times a year, and manicures have become a rarity. My diet has consisted of whatever I can grab fast enough, or overeating to compensate for skipping lunch or breakfast. I stress eat, too. When I get frustrated, or sad, or angry, or bored, the refrigerator door pops open and I eat to comfort my soul.

I look at pictures of my younger, thin self and wonder what happened? I don't feel that much different that I used to. Yet, looking at photos of my current self is so surprising. I'll see a jacket or pants in the store, and think, "that's huge", but, it fits me. My sister is doing so well on Nutri-System and was kind enough to give me her "fat" clothes. I was horrified when I discovered that they were all way too small for me.

The girls have had friends come over, and when they see my wedding portrait, they always comment on how nice I looked. Ashamed of what I've become, I always joke, "Yeah, see what 15 years and three kids can do to a person?"

The problem is, I stopped worrying about ME. I worry about my kids, my husband, my house, my business, the bills, the dogs, the groceries, the laundry. But I stopped making the care and keeping of me a priority.

ENOUGH.

I started Nutri-System 4 days ago. I'm happy to be doing something. I want to look in the mirror and recognize myself again. So, I'm trying to find time to MOVE, and drink my water and take care of myself.

So that's it. I can't wait to be an "after". I'm not brave enough to post my "before photo", so instead I'm posting my, "before before photo". I'd like to look like that again, albeit, slightly more wrinkly and gray, but its a good reminder that, that pretty girl is somewhere inside of me.

Hillarious

Stupidity ensues...These are my parents :)


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Building Blocks

As my oldest daughter's 14th birthday approaches, I have been looking through piles of old photos, taken when she was a baby. Looking at these pictures really reminds me of a very different time in my life. She cried constantly. She was absolutely miserable, and I was the most neurotic new mother imaginable. It was impossible to soothe this little person, who had her own agenda.

One morning, after a particularly difficult night, colicky fits and little sleep, I complained to my mother about how hard it was. My mother, who is so wise, comforted me. "I know these times seem interminable, but once it's over, you will look back and think, how quickly it flew."

She was so right, and really, her comment applies to everything. I was once a newlywed living in a small apartment with my life about to truly begin. Then, an expectant mom, feeling life in my tummy with expectations of a docile baby, and me, I'd be the most perfect and patient mother. A new mom next, sleep deprived and self-doubting. The years whizzed by, and now, I'm a graying, middle aged mom of teens and almost teens. My babies who once worshiped me, now are embarrassed by me (not that I don't give them good reason!). I look back on the days of young motherhood and think that those were the most innocent and sweet times of my life.

This is Gregg, Hayley and me on Hayley's 1st birthday.
I was a couple of months pregnant with Sydney.

When Hayley was about 2 years old, we had a little routine. We'd come home after our morning errand and lunch and we'd wind down for a nap. I'd change her diaper and we'd chat, and then she'd pick a book, no doubt one she'd read time and time again. If I left one word out, or skipped a page, she'd correct me instantly. We loved Harry the Hippo, and Big Bird, Good Night Moon and 101 Dalmatians. When I placed her in her crib, she'd suck her left thumb and with her right arm, she'd cover her eyes. I'd listen to her babble on the baby monitor until she fell asleep.

We did this every day, and one day, it dawned on me, she's not going to remember this. What was so routine, and such a major moment in our day, every day, was going to be completely forgotten. I found this so sad to consider. Me pouring my whole heart into caring for her, and she'd never know. She'd never remember those precious moment she and I shared. Not the kisses and the cuddles, not the repeated requests for a sip of water. She won't remember all of her crib-mates, the stuffed animals. Or that she'd wake up every afternoon to the smells of dinner cooking on the stove. And she won't remember the thrill of seeing her daddy coming home to play with her every night.

Then, I realized of course, that it was never about me. It's about her. I gave her love and guidance and care and attention and nurturing. I gave her the building blocks of her life. She is now a self-assured and spunky young lady. Smart, and musical. Original and daring, a little goofy (in a good way). She's always willing to try something new, adores her friends and her family.

So what, she doesn't remember those days where we were a twosome. It's okay, because those days are forever part of who she has become.
Hayley, today.

The Most Wonderful Day of the Year

It was the first day of school today, and it felt like it always does. The girls awake in the morning with nary a complaint. Their outfits have been painstakingly chosen days earlier. They're fully dressed before I've even emerged from the shower. The mirror gets even more action than usual today, and the beloved flat iron is put to good use. Once each hair is in place, a healthy breakfast is consumed, and a balanced lunch prepared for school. The requisite photograph is taken, (there's been one each year on this day) and we burst with pride as we watch them take their first step into a new year as they load the bus.


In about a week (or less!), I'll be pushing them out of bed fifteen minutes before the bus arrives, they'll be skipping breakfast, throwing hair up in ponytails as they run to catch the already arrived bus. They'll realize as they settle into their seats that they forgot their book bag.

But right now, the first day of the school year is so full of promise. Like the notebooks filled with empty pages, the year ahead has yet to be written, too. There will no doubt be late night sleepovers, new friendships, beloved teachers, pop quizzes, not to mention, this school year is the one where both of my older daughters will celebrate their Bat Mitzvah.

I always felt like the placement of the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashana) was more practical in our culture. Summer ends, we are rested and ready to tackle life once again. The school year is fresh as are our hopes and dreams for the coming year. The months go by too quickly, and no doubt, things won't always feel this fresh. By May, I'll be freaking out about packing for camp again. But right now is a time of year to be savored. And I naturally make some New Year's resolutions as I reflect on the near future. Maybe this year I'll finally get the closets organized. Maybe I'll finally find time to plant the daffodils, reconnect with long lost friends, take on a new responsibility. Maybe I'll actually stick to a diet. Maybe I'll catch up on the laundry. Maybe I'll start playing piano again or even join a gym. This year, I might just volunteer at my kids schools. Maybe we'll socialize more. Maybe I'll read a lot more books.

I can be sure of one thing. By this time next year we'll be talking about the college countdown. Hayley will be starting high school, and we'll be saying "just 4 more years before she's out of the house". I can't believe how old they all are now, but one day, I'll look back and think about these days and think about how little they were. Until then, I'll treasure every moment.

My Other Children

Each summer, I'm blessed to have a staff of talented artists who help make our art programming so successful. This summer was no exception. My group came from New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, England and Israel. They were not only talented, but beautiful as well. They came to camp knowing no one, and have made life-long friends with one another. I have a mom's pride when I think about their accomplishments, and am proud to post this video.

It was taken at a final rehearsal for a performance at our end of season banquet. I gave them very little direction other than, "Have Fun", which, as you'll see, they did.

Abused and Manipuated

Camp is hard work. Sweating in the summer heat, never getting much of a break, living in conditions that aren't exactly luxurious. And as hard as camp is, home is feeling much worse. I have spent the past 3 days trying to get my home organized and set for the school year, and prepared for another quick vacation. I'm doing laundry, paying bills, consolidating paperwork, loading the dishwasher, unloading the dishwasher, feeding the dogs, walking the dogs folding the clothes, preparing meals, grocery trips, etc. etc.

Since we've returned home, the girls are having a grand time chilling with there friends, on the computer, watching movies, inviting people over, etc. etc.

I ask them to help, and, indeed, I might get cursory assistance, but nothing really substantial. I would like to not have to ask them to help, but I have to. My oldest then tells me that I am really strict, and mean, and always asking for her to do something.

I'm so frustrated, I'm not even unpacked from camp yet, and the work keeps mounting. The piles get bigger, and as soon as I complete one task, another has appeared while my back was turned.

I feel abused. I know that is a strong word, but that is the depth of my feelings right now. I feel my girls take advantage of the fact that if they don't put the glass in the dishwasher, I will. When my little one goes outside, suddenly we have 2 more kids in the house, who appear out of nowhere. I even had a four year old neighborhood kid tell me, (and this is an EXACT quote) "That's it, I'm never coming back here", when I refused to drop what I was doing to go look at a bug in the basement.

My oldest begged for two girlfriends to sleep over the house last night. I repeatedly said NO, as I wanted her to get rest for our upcoming weekend. I finally gave in, (accidentally), as long as they went to bed early, and had their mom's pick them up at 10:00 am. Then I had to arrange dinner for the extra two girls I ended up with.

I'm not kidding when I tell you that these girls stayed up til 6:30 am, laughing out loud the whole night. I found my cell phone sitting by the computer next to an open phone book. They were making phoney phone calls ON MY PHONE through-out the night. My refrigerator was emptied with their middle of the night snacking. They then didn't leave until 12:45, almost three hours AFTER I asked them to leave.

Then my daughter, who I'm furious with, has the audacity to tell me that I'm mean and that all of her friends think so. She also told me, that these two in particular are afraid of me. Good.

I'm so tired of getting pissed upon. I'm so tired of being the only one in a house of five who takes responsibility. I'm so tired. I'm soooo tired. I just want to cry.

I don't know how to discipline them. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm don't know if I'm doing a good job.

I want to raise responsible, giving and thoughtful people. I don't know if I can.

On the subject of Vacation

While I'm thinking about vacation, I thought I'd post a memory of a vacation my family and I took in what I believe was about 1974. I was 10, Wendi would be 13 (?), and we went to Lancaster County, PA. The Amish farmhouse we visited was memorable...probably because of this photo.

Anyway, I think my dad was first becoming interested in photography when this photo was taken. I remember feeling very fashionable in my halter and bandana. Dig the belly fat, especially. Wendi was not pointing at anything in particular, just pointing, to make the picture more interesting. I think Wendi is wearing shorts under that t-shirt (at least I hope she is), and I'm not sure why I needed a pocketbook at that age.

Oh my, I loved my big sister, and felt so cool and grown up to be hanging with her. Here are my two oldest girls taken 2 days ago. Will they look back on this picture 3o(plus) years from now and think how funny it is? Probably. But aren't they lucky to have the memory of special time with a sister. Just like me.

Having a Great Time, Wish You Were Here

So many things about vacation have changed since we were kids. We used to disappear for a week, perhaps send a postcard to say hello. Photos were taken using our 35mm film, and reviewed a few days upon return (if you remembered to have them processed). Car trips, when we were kids, were long and boring, and consisted of fighting over which radio station to listen to, and looking out the window to amuse ourselves. Speaking by phone to anyone was next to impossible, unless you wanted to pay outrageous fees to your hotel

My how things have changed. We can talk to our hearts content via our cell phones, check our e-mail on our wireless laptops, and update our facebook account (another story, another blog post). We can edit our photos on the same day, and create home movies that rival Spielberg (okay, Harry Spielberg, not Steven, but you get the picture). Car trips are a highlight these days, between i-pods, game boys and dvd players in the car. Trips are no longer measured in miles, but in how many movies. (i.e. it takes 7 movies to get to Florida; 1 movie to drive to the shore; 3 movies til Virgina, etc.)

I could write now about how much I miss the old days, how vacations have lost there purity. How my children should foster their imaginations by looking out the window. How we should bond as a family by simply talking. (Which we do a lot of). But...I'm on vacation. I don't really feel like being on serious, that's for the other 51 weeks of the year. Below is a little movie of our 2nd day in town. Boring to most, but I love it. :)

What I Did This Summer

Actually, this is what I did the last week of camp. We had our annual banquet, and this year's theme was "Grease". Over the years that I have been at camp the banquet has morphed into a huge undertaking. My staff and I spend the last week of camp making decorations, centerpieces and preparing for this one special night.

This year was amazing. We had a great presentation, that I think the campers just loved. My wonderfully beautiful and talented staff performed a dance to "We Go Together", in costumes they made themselves. Our decorations and centerpieces were fantastic,but I must admit, I'm most proud of a little movie This is one of our centerpieces (we made 35 total) that I worked on with my friend Caryl.
The "milkshake" is NOT real...how cool is that?

we put together, a parody of Grease, starring many of our upper staff members in key roles.

I must say, that when I began this endeavor, I was so nervous that I wouldn't get cooperation from those I recruited to participate. After all, everyone is so busy at camp, and moments of frivolity are hard to come by. I must admit I felt rather presumptuous expecting people to step out of their routine, not to mention their comfort zone. I couldn't have been more wrong. Every one was so enthusiastic and excited by this project.

I was doubly blessed by having our camp Program Coordinator take over most of the editing of the movie. Thank heavens, because the editing of this movie is SPECTACULAR!!!

Anyway, I'm so excited to share the youtube link with you, please check it out. I'm so proud of this!!!

Home Sweet Home

We made through a wonderful summer, and now we are all safe and sound, and home. This was a successful summer for all of us, though I think very hard on my husband. Going from a bustling, busy house, to an empty one, for 8 full weeks must be very tough after the first two days. His support for our camp lifestyle is unwavering and I'm so thankful.

In November, 2002, when I was first offered the position at camp, I remember telling Gregg, that this wasn't just about the upcoming summer, instead this was about a lifestyle choice, We would not have ordinary summers that I had expected for our family. No weekend barbecues, no day trips to the zoo, museums or even the dog park. No (very inexpensive) community day camp for the girls; no staying inside in air-conditioned comfort on those days where its not the heat, it's the humidity; no bells jingling from the ice cream man, no lemonade stands. We wouldn't have our daily trek to our nearby beach, no hosing down of sand off of little piggies. No setting up a plastic pool, and watching all the neighborhood children magically appear in bathing suits and flip-flops.

And as I have mentioned before, leaving each year, is heartbreaking. I'm never ready to leave my home, I usually feel like, I just want to have a summer like normal people, though by the end of camp, I feel proud and invigorated that my hard work, and dedication have resulted in my daughters truly enjoying picture perfect summers.

I now consider myself lucky. How many other 40-something women do you know that get to spend their two months in summer camp? I get to be the fly on the wall that we all would now and then like to be. And the campers, not just my own children, but all of the children, that I have now watched grow up, I get to share in their joys and accomplishments. And whether they sing a beautiful song in a talent show, perform in a play, win a competition or are given a special award for their hard work, I cheer proudly, like I would for my own.

I always knew, for sure, that camp is great for my children, but what I didn't expect was that it would be great for our whole family. We are a special little community at camp. Working long days, giggling, sweating, creating, and having fun. We learn we have more potential than we ever thought possible, and that by just working hard, we make beautiful friendships. We learn that kindness goes a long way, and that when dealing with people, patience and understanding are key. We make mistakes everyday, and learn to deal with them, and we can make something wonderful out of very little.

I know this doesn't make a lot of sense, as this is more a stream of consciousness type post than i normally write. Forgive me, I'm tired and it's sooooooo late.

Anyway, glad to be back in the real world!

Color War Fun

The camp is in the midst of color war, which, to the camping world, is THE major event of the summer. The camp is divided into two teams, and they compete in a myriad of events and competitions. Addison took part on her teams little dance team, and I thought you would enjoy sneaking a peak at my little star. (If it doesn't load right away, it only means that you tube hasn't finished processing, and you are on this blog much more quickly than I had anticipated.

If you still don't see it, search youtube.com for "Lilshish" and a list of my videos will come up...

xoxoxo

I'll Make this Quick

I cannot believe we have only a little more than a week before we come home....HOW DID THIS SUMMER FLY LIKE THIS???

I just want to tell my kids to look around, this is all going to be a memory, so treasure every moment we have.

I have the best job, I'm having a wonderful time, and it's great to be part of something so special. Unless you've experienced it yourself, it's hard to understand. But I am so blessed to be able to share the camp experience with my children, and spend my time working with wonderful, energetic and brilliant young people.

I'm looking forward to being home, but I'm really going to miss my summer home....

I'm Still Here

I'm sitting outside on a beautiful evening on "Super Duper" OD....this means I'm the "on duty"staff member this evening at camp. Staying up until 1:00 am, is tough, but thankfully, my summer is peppered with only 4 "OD" nights. So I can handle this.I

Normally, OD is filled with counselors, campers, noise and socializing, but tonight,...oh my god, A SKUNK JUST WALKED BY ABOUT 15 FEET AWAY. I'M NOT FREAKING OUT. I'M NOT FREAKING OUT. OKAY I'M FREAKING OUT A LITTLE. ALL I CAN THINK OF IS THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY AND TOMATO JUICE BATHS.

I'M LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE SITTING HERE IN CENTRAL CAMP. OKAY, ME AND MY COMPUTER. AND, SERIOUSLY, I'M NOT MATURE ENOUGH FOR THIS JOB. I JUST WANT TO GO IN MY CABIN AND SNUGGLE INTO MY BED. EEEEEEEEEEEK.

Well. I don't see him anymore, but i don't know where he is. I'm just going to hope for the best.

Only 35 more minutes to sit here before i can go to bed.

I got nothing else to say. I'm just all skunked out.

xoxox

At least I posted, Wendi!!!

Drama Queen

I had a nice evening tonight with Julie, who is our Theatre Director at camp. One of the most fun parts of my job is helping out with our theatrical productions. This evening, Julie and I made our annual pilgrimage to Wal-Mart, to buy fabrics and notions to create costumes for our camp play.

I am a total Theatre geek. I spent my middle and high school years putting more energy into the school play than I put into the school work. I smiled my way into musical productions, though I don’t have a bit of singing talent, I hammed my way into community theatre, theatre classes at summer school (no summer camp, by the way!) not to mention choir classes and a musical ensemble group in my Junior and Senior high school years.

These were great times. The friends that I met in theatre were so perfect for me. They were not judgmental, materialistic, snobby or unkind. They were funny, intelligent, free-spirited, creative, not to mention talented. They appreciated my silly sense of humor, my unconventional fashion choices, and my favorite high school motto, ‘Why Be Normal”. It was with my fellow Theatre Geeks that I felt most like…me.

After high school, the theatrical opportunities for someone with the limited amount of talent I had, sort of disintegrated. The fun theatre people I had been so comfortable around were now far away from me, and I quickly realized that those high school years were times that I will never reclaim (nor forget). Having the chance to be involved in a production again (even on the production side), stirs up memories and feelings that I had forgotten about long ago. Spending time with Julie, our Theatre Director and actress from New York, has been a little like those “old days”. Julie has that same brand of intelligence, humor, and free spiritedness that I admired in my theatre friends from my youth. Though she is almost 20 years younger than me, the chronological age difference melts away when we hang out together. It’s nice to feel that youthful exuberance and those flashes of creative energy once more. So thank you Julie, for not treating me like a grown-up. I really feel a kinship with you, and I’m grateful for the chance to work together.

The play this summer is Peter Pan, one of my all-time favorite shows. I got the part of a “Lost Boy” in seventh grade, and now my little Addie is going to be a Lost Boy at camp. Getting to conceptualize the costuming of this show is challenging, but totally exciting. I simply can’t wait to see it all come together, and of course, I’ll post the photos.

Digging through the Poo

Camp is an experience that, unless you've been through it, is hard to understand. I spent the day yesterday in my craft storage closet, reorganizing. Admittedly, this is one of my favorite things to do. Just knowing that all the scissors are together, the glitter is consolidated and the construction paper is in tidy piles, is extremely satisfying.

Of course, this closet, after a winter of vacancy, has been the cozy home to a few critters. (No raccoons!) I came upon nests, and poo and all sorts of stuff that I'm not interested in recounting (besides the fact that I don't think I can identify). In addition, when the temperature outside, is an uncomfortable and humid 94, the temperature inside is like my oven at home when I'm roasting a brisket.

This sounds like very unpleasant work, but I have to tell you, its not. I feel accomplished and satisfied. And when I see the happy faces of my children, enjoying their summer, making friends, and growing up; I know it is the best job in the world.

P.S. Mom and Wendi....we are all doing GREAT!!!!

It's a Beautiful Day

I'm sitting here in our office, listening as our directors play reveille to awake our campers. A different perspective to reveille for me, as I have never been in the office as it was happening. In past summers, I have had my littlest daughter living with me, and my babysitter would come to pick her up about 1/2 hour after reveille.

Now, she's a big girl (though still a little peanut) and she is living in a bunk with other children.

Although I have prepared her for this new adventure as much as I possibly could, I remained nervous and concerned. She is only 6 years old, how is she going to cope without me????

Well the good news is, she is coping JUST FINE!!!

Though she's old enough for a bunk, she's still the smallest one in there, and her bunk -mates can't get enough of her. She's happy, smiling, silly and, although I am dying to brush her hair and put it in a proper pony-tail, she looks clean.

Yesterday I spied the group fighting over her, trying to pick her up. A couple girls took turns, and the next thing I knew, she turned the tables on her new friends, and attempted to pick them up.

My fingers will remain crossed that this is a positive experience for her, but so far, so good. I couldn't have hoped for anything better.
Here she is (on the left, with the belly suit) with her new friends!!!

Blogging from Camp

Well, I think I might be able to post now and then from camp. I am settled into a really nice cabin, and getting into the routine of camp. It is crazy, and fun, and it is really weird to be away from the kids.

It's a tough week for the whole family with out both parents at home. Gregg has had a very challenging time adjusting to life without Lori, and dealing with kid issues by himself.

The girls come up on saturday, and I hope they will have a rewarding summer, and make all this angst worth it.

I am about to go into the dining hall for breakfast, so can't spend a lot of time writing, but I think I will be writing at night, and then downloading in the morning when I get internet access.

But it is a good way to be connected.

Hi Mom, and Wendi...I love you.

xoxoo

Welcome to My NERVOUS BREAKDOWN

Just a quick entry to say that as of Monday A.M. I will be packed and on my way up to Camp. I'm trying to find a way to get excited, but right now, I'm more overwhelmed with worrying about packing up, making sure everyone has what they need and mostly making sure all the bills are paid while I am gone.

This is my 5th year doing this, and I thought it would get easier to prepare, but it just doesn't seem to. I try not to leave things til the last minute, but of course, last minute things always pop up. I'm completely scattered, and I feel bad for people that invite us to birthday parties and other special occasions this time of year, because I invariably forget to rsvp in a timely fashion. I am normally fairly undependable (I'll admit that...I'm not very good at returning phone calls and e-mails), but this time of year I become COMPLETELY undependable. I am so focused on get myself together to live a new life, that everything else tends to get ignored.

You know that feeling at the beginning of the school year, when everything is fresh? I vow every year to write down the school calendar so we don't forget early days and off days, to make dentist appointments, orthodontist, ophthalmologist, gynecologist, pediatrician, etc. etc. I buy a fresh new calendar to write down each obligation. I plan my days to be constructive, I try to keep my house clean and together, to make dinner every night, to keep the girls in check.

Then comes the Jewish High Holy Days. I get more stressed about dressing the kids for services than I actually enjoy going to the services. I promise myself to plant tulip and daffodil bulbs every year, but somehow never get around to it. October is Hayleys birthday, so we try to do something special, then comes Halloween planning, costume fittings, pumpkin carving and parties, November with the requisite eating of the Halloween Candy When the Kids Aren't Watching (Reese's Cups first, then Milky Ways, then Hershey Bars, then Snickers. Butterfingers only when the rest of the candy is eaten.) Then its the "who's going to make Thanksgiving this year" fight. December, which just completely stresses me between Hanukah and Christmas gift giving. January calms down...(I think Martin Luther King Day might be my favorite holiday) Then February with the valentines cards and treats and Addie's Birthday Party mixed in, March is Purim time, I try to always make Hamentashen, but like my tulips and daffodils, they usually don't come. Passover in April is a huge priority, I have 20 people or so join us for a seder...then Aunt Wendi's Birthday and then May, the month the everyone else in the family is born PLUS Mother's day to complicate matters, Sydney and Gregg's Birthdays (back to back) and the planting of my impatiens. June is all about preparing for camp and the end of the school year.

It doesn't change, it is the same routine every year. Rarely a surprise, a few complications, but the same turn of events.

The main thing that stays the same is that at the beginning of the school year, camp and summer seem a lifetime away,and before you know it, we are back at camp, like we never left. While planning for camp, it seems like we will be there for an eternity, but the weeks at camp fly just like the months do during the rest of the year.

I think I have to just STOP.

Stop and just be grateful for the beautiful life I have been blessed with.
To not be so hard on myself for not being the perfect wife, mother, daughter, sister.
To take care of my body and say NO this Halloween to the Reeses Cups, Milky Ways, Hershey Bars, Snickers and even the Butterfingers.
Be grateful for friends that reach out to me and family that cares for me, instead of sometimes feeling like social obligations are complications instead of blessings.
Treasure my girls and take advantage of moments to praise and adore them, instead of being negative.
Make special time for Gregg and me. We are the foundation of this family, we need to keep our relationship strong.

In conclusion, I don't know how much effort I'm going to be able to put in my blog this summer, although with a little help from my sister, I'm going to attempt to post now and then. Of course, I now fancy myself as the editor of my own Magazine (I have a readership of at least 6 people!), so I have a responsibility to my readers to keep you informed of my life and lessons I learn everyday. I'll make every effort to keep this forum of my own musings alive for the next 8 weeks.

I wish everyone a wonderful and productive summer!

My Free Camera

Back in October 2006, I was lucky enough to be invited to go see a taping of The View in NYC. (Thank you to my niece Dawn and Sister-In-Law Debi) Rosie O'Donnell had just started on the show, and Rod Stewart was a guest and he performed.

But my favorite part was when Rosie announced that the entire audience would receive a Casio Exilim Digital Camera. I HAVE NEVER WON ANYTHING BEFORE IN MY LIFE! This was so exciting. Needless to say, I love my camera, and discovered shortly after I received it that I could make little movies on it.

So I am now the annoying mom with the camera...but I love it.

Below is a recent video we took of my baby. Ok, she's not so much a baby anymore, but she will always be my baby.

Enjoy!

12 things to do

Wendi just "tagged" me to write a list of stuff I want to accomplish this summer. I think it was supposed to be just 12 things, but I think I went over my initial allotment. Oh well, sue me.

Since my summer is spent working as Art Director at an overnight camp, while my kids live in bunks (and by the way have the time of their lives), this is a very "campified" list of things to do.

1. Eat healthy, as much as possible since I'm being fed camp food. Veggie Burgers and Salad bar always get a little tiresome after a week or two, but I want my cholesterol to stay in check.

2. Color my hair as soon as the roots begin to bug me, instead of procrastinating for a few weeks until I absolutley don't want to be seen in public.

3. Exfoliate, moisturize, use my facial peel, self-tan, remember to take vitamins, spend time taking care of my body and try to feel good about myself.

4. Call my mother, father and my sister more often.

5. Keep my clip-board organized. Work on my weekly staff review forms everyday, instead of waiting for the end of the week.

6. Allow my staff the opportunity to improve their skills, and be comfortable delegating tasks to them. Let go of the idea that I have to handle everything.

7. Figure out how to properly run a "tie-dye" day for 450 people. (This is my 5th year doing this, and it still isn't easy.)

8. Stay hydrated.

9. Write letters to my children (even though I see them everyday, they would probably like to receive mail from mom.)

10. Get to know first names of every counselor in camp. I have a very hard time remembering everyone. But I will make more of an effort this summer.

11. Exercise, take walks everyday.

12. Find one camper in each class I teach and recognize them for something special that they did. Always keep in mind, that it is the quiet ones, who don't make trouble, and just go with the program that sometimes "fall through the cracks" when it comes to special attention.

13. Don't complain, just go with the flow. Stay flexible when surprise issues come up. Cut out gossip and negativity.

14. Take more pictures and videos. Organize, edit and back up pictures and videos on dvd.

15. Set a good example for my children.

16. Have some special time with my husband, 'cause I miss him all summer.

17. Schedule a family vacation for when we get home.

Sticks, Stones and Round-Off Back Handsprings

Thirteen year old Hayley spent a fair amount of time these past few days being x-rayed and examined. She injured her arm doing a Round-Off Back Handspring at her gymnastics class.

Since her dad was with her when it happened, he took her to the E.R., while I stayed home with her sisters. She came home with a large green cast (up past her elbow) and a large blue sling for her arm. Diagnosis, might be broken, might not. (Even after an X-Ray).

The next morning, I was able to get her an appointment with an orthopedic specialist, and again, due to other obligations, I wasn't able to be with her. Gregg accompanied her, and went over treatment with the Doctor.

I have been with Hayley (and all my girls) through every illness and broken bone since her birth. We've dealt with ear infections, pneumonia, strep throat, asthma, allergy testing, vomit, dehydration, high fevers, nebulizer (spelling?) treatments, broken fingers, etc. Not being the primary parent throughout this new ordeal has been VERY difficult. She needs to rewrap her arm, and I don't know how. She wants to take the sling off for the evening, and I don't really know if she's allowed. I'm grateful my husband was there for her, but admittedly a little jealous, that I'm not the only one she needs.

When she was a baby, I was the only one. I nursed her, so it was ME and only ME who could soothe her when she was hungry. She was extremely fussy, (I REALLY DO KNOW ABOUT COLIC) and I would hold and rock her for hours at a time. She would cry hysterically when I would leave her at her preschool class and she listened to me read her stories every night before bed. She really needed me.

Now that she's hit her teen years, she needs me less and less. (At least she thinks she does). But I realize I as they get older, we needed to loosen the leash a little, and let them make some of their own choices and decisions. Its just hard on a mommy's ego. Even though it was hard to leave a crying child at preschool, or nursing at all hours of the night, it was really nice to be so NEEDED.

Of course, I wouldn't wish an injury on her, not in a million years, but if there's a silver lining to this situation, it is a selfish one. Now that she's working with one arm, she needs my help, with her hair, with getting dressed. And even though this is tough for her, I am embarrassed to admit, that I actually felt grateful for the opportunity to help her. It felt kinda nice to really be needed like that once again, and to share those sweet moments once more. Now, lets just hope that what might be a break is actually just a sprain, so that she can have a fun and comfortable summer!

Good Morning

I have been so busy this week with my business, that I have had to let my little family rely on each other, instead of me. For the past two nights, I had to dash out of the house at around 5:00 pm to set up events. The girls are older now, so I don't need to wait for a sitter. That is a bonus of parenting teens and almost teens. Of course, my husband came home shortly after I left, and he took charge of the crew.

I came home around 10:30, and when I walked into the house I heard the chattering of six year old, Addison. Initially, I was irritated, that she hadn't been put to bed, but as I went up the stairs to check things out, I stopped. I peaked into the hall bathroom, and there was my Sydney (age 12) giving Addie a bath. No one knew I was home, but I just watched and listened to the sweet banter between these two sisters. Sydney was gentle and sweet, and carried on patiently with her little sister. Addie, who is sometimes a little feisty, sat calmly for her big sister and listened intently to the loving words Sydney spoke.

I stood there for a long time, watching my girls. The responsible thing might have been to make my presence known, and give Syd a hand, but getting to be a "fly on the wall" is a precious and rare privilege. As I watched, starry eyed, for I had caught a special moment, I remembered again how lucky we are. It is the small moments that I need to take more time to appreciate. The big things, the Bat Mitzvah we are planning, summer at camp, maybe a vacation, these grand things dwarf these small simple moments, but it is these moments that are the true building blocks of our lives.

Growing UP

We had the absolute pleasure this weekend to attend the Bar Mitzvah of our friends Sam and Lisa's son, Max. We were thrilled that the whole family (all 5 of us!) were included in the celebration. Max was superb, truly poised and handled his responsibities like a man.

When I was 13, I went to Bar and Bat Mitzvahs every weekend and I learned many things. I got to wear my first pair of high heels at 13, and I learned quickly that it's easier to walk on carpet than it is on bare floor. I started wearing pantyhose, and learned that runners can be stopped with a dab of clear nail polish. I had my first slow dance, and learned afterward, that the girl is supposed to put her hands on the boy's shoulders, and the boys hands go around the girl's waist. ( I really wished I had learned that one before.) I learned that I am not good at line dancing. I learned how to do the "bump". I learned that its easier to dance with your shoes off. I learned that as soon as the DJ played "Last Dance", by Donna Summer, that the party was over. The Bar Mitzvah is meant to be a rite of passage for the guest of honor, but looking back on that year, it was a rite of passage for all of us. It was then we began to navigate our way through teenage social lives, relationships and choices.

As I watched Lisa and Sam at their son's Bar Mitzvah this weekend, I looked at them a little differently. I've known them since we were young parents, schlepping our kids to preschool, toting younger siblings in our arms. I've watched Lisa go through her third pregnancy, and she lent me her bassinette when my youngest was born. We have been together at birthday parties, many New Years' Eves, 40th birthdays and school events.

But on this day, the day Max became a "man", I saw Lisa and Sam become somehow, more grown-up, too. Lisa, glowing, in her beautifully tailored suit, was a gracious, not to mention a graceful hostess. She smiled with joy during the whole ceremony, and spoke eloquently after Max read from the Torah. Sam, who is possibly the silliest person I've ever met, spoke as well. He spoke with humor and with heart, and we all felt a little misty as he made his speech.

They showed a video montage of Max's 13 years. Ski trips, and soccer games, vacations, school photos, friends and family. These snap shots of his life, just ordinary pictures, became a beautiful narrative of the family and life that Sam and Lisa have built.

The reception after the Bar Mitzvah service is meant to celebrate the 13 year old, but I realized on Saturday, that it celebrates so much more. It somehow cements this family unit. Fifteen or so years before, they celebrated their wedding. A party, no doubt, thrown by their parents. Sure, they were "adults" on that day. But now, they have officially "grown up." They have built a life for three beautiful sons, they have touched souls with their friendship and generosity. They have, as a unit, made a difference in our community. I'm so grateful that we had the chance to share this moment in their lives.

expectations

I have a pretty controlling personality, I like being in charge, and I don't like surprises. I'm fairly good at logistics and planning, and I like to work through problems, taking into account any foreseeable circumstance that might interfere with our plans. That's why my job as "Camp Art Lady" suits me. The better I plan, the more successful my program is.

Today marks the 4th anniversary of my sister's wedding to her wonderful husband Joe. To preface , my sister plans huge parties as part of her job, with such ease and humility, it amazes me. She planned her wedding to take place on a yacht which sailed around Manhattan. It was a novel and unconventional approach to a wedding, but somehow, suited them perfectly.

On June 1, 2003, we expected beautiful, summer-like weather, but instead, we woke up to drenching rain showers. Even though the bulk of the party was to take place outside, we had to go along with the original plans.

We had a woman come to our hotel to do hair and make-up, and then Wendi, her friend Judy and I made our way to the docks. I was now dressed in a pretty gown , with sneakers and a raincoat and Wendi had her hair completely "done" including the veil. Carrying an umbrella, the bridal gown, home-made floral decorations, and a suitcase, we trudged through the rain and heavy winds, to where the boat was docked. It felt like a two mile hike, and absolutely not what you would imagine a wedding day to feel like.

We somehow arrived intact, maybe a little windblown, but we made it to the yacht on time. The ceremony was to take place on the upper deck of the boat under a tent. We were told to quickly line up, as the ceremony was about to begin. The fifty or so guests all made it, and the music began. I watched my girls, who were just a few moments before scared to make their way down the aisle, gracefully carry their flowers and take their walk. I got to walk with Addison, who was only 2 years old at the time. She held my hand and received the requisite "oohs and aaahs" from the guests.

We all stood at the front of the ship as my father escorted my beautiful and glowing sister down the aisle. She was crying, for this was a day she had waited for her whole life. As Wendi and Joe said their vows, the sun peaked through the clouds for the very first time that day.

The rainy weather, gusty winds and choppy seas made for a rocky trip, but somehow softened everyone's mood. It didn't matter that our hair was a mess, our make-up slipped off, our dresses were dragging in the water or we couldn't dance without the whole boat swaying. It actually added to the special feeling of the day. It was relaxed and fun and just about the most perfect wedding I've ever attended. I will always relish the memory of the crooked toupee of one of the guests practically falling off his head.

It's a lesson that I'll always be grateful for. Sometimes we have to let go of our search for perfection. My wedding (another perfect day, of course) took place in a country club. I remember worrying about whether or not the outside entrance had a cover, in case it were to rain that day. I prayed and prayed for good weather, because I didn't want anything to interfere with my royal wedding or my hairdo. It didn't rain, it happened to be a beautiful day, that I will forever treasure. What I didn't count on was the judge who married us calling me the wrong name during my ceremony. To this day, I still have friends who call me "Jori Lill" to remind me of his verbal gaff. I didn't expect it, but it was an added little bonus to an otherwise perfect day. And although I might have been upset by it for a few minutes in 1992, I am grateful that something about my wedding day was memorable to people other than my hubby and me.

So I am learning that things don't always go as planned, and sometimes, that's best thing that can possibly happen.

No Day at the Beach

I picked up a gaggle of my oldest daughters' friends from a day at the beach yesterday. They weren't where they were supposed to be, and for a few minutes I couldn't find them. They had wandered off and found themselves (lo and behold) hanging out at a boys lacrosse practice session, a block or two from the lake. When I found them, I was a bit taken aback. There they were in bathing suit tops, "soffee" shorts and flip flops. Their bodies so young and flawless. Not a dimple of cellulite nor a single little fat roll. Their skin still smooth, baby soft and not yet damaged by the sun. Here they are, little girls learning how to walk around in a more womanly skin, and I wonder if they know it. They're still young and innocent in so many ways, but do they know that by wearing their tiny bikini tops and shorts, they are being provocative?

I loaded the group of them into my car, and began my lecture. Half of these girls, I hadn't met, and don't know their families, but I lectured anyway. My main concern was that no one had told a grown-up where they were. But, in addition, they have to be very careful flaunting their stuff around the neighborhood.

A couple girls argued that their moms wouldn't be mad, and for a moment, I thought, can that be true? Sure enough, though, I marched them right back to another girls house,who's mother I had just met, and THANK G-D, this other mom backed me up 100%.

Oh, how I hope I can protect them. But we do have to rely on the good sense of their friend's parents as well. When I'm responsible for someone else's daughter, I have the same expectations of them as I would for my own child. And if I see behavior that is blatantly improper or rude, I don't mind pointing it out. I only hope that the moms of my daughters friends will do the same for me.

Delicious Summer

One of the things I like best about my neighborhood is the lakes and beaches that are here for the residents. For a very reasonable $325 per year, we have tennis courts, basketball courts, playgrounds, well kept common areas, even some community parties. But the best part is the lake. Large and still, with suburban homes surrounding it, our lake is a wonderful place to spend the day.

When the girls were little, we used to spend every summer day on this lovely lake. They learned to swim here, caught tiny tad-poles and smelly snails, we donned safety vests and went canoeing and paddle boating, got more than our share of sunburn, built sand castles and made friends.

We spent the day at the lake yesterday, to celebrate the beginning of summer. It was a perfect day, but bittersweet for me.

This year will be the 5th summer that I have packed my entire family up (okay, we leave the husband at home), and take the girls to overnight camp. Most parents leave their kids there, but I stay up with them, for 8 weeks, working in the arts and crafts department. It's a complete lifestyle change for me, because the girls sleep in bunks, and I sleep in my own private cabin. I do no laundry, cooking, carpooling or major cleaning. My children are occupied, cared for and are having the time of their life. My job is rewarding and fun, I get to get messy and work with a myriad of different craft materials, I supervise a group of about 10 college aged counselors, I get to excercise my creative energy, and spend A LOT of time giggling with one very special girl friend.

The beginning of the summer is always a little tough for me emotionally. For a lot of moms, this is a time to gear up for summer activities, vacations and a slower pace. For me, this time is spent shopping for clothes and socks and bathing suits, labeling everything, foraging through the hall closet praying that I'll be able to find all 9 duffle bags that will need to be packed. Bottom line is, that I am BUSY preparing to move away.

It is this time of year when I look longingly at my flower beds, and feel a tinge of sadness that I won't be home to water and nurture them everyday. I'll miss preparing dinner on our new barbecue, and sitting on our screen porch watching my girls and their friends jumping on the trampoline. I'll miss sipping a glass of wine with my husband when he gets home from work and sharing our stories of the day. I'll miss my morning telephone call to my mom. Not to mention the countless back and forth with my sister. I'll miss General Hospital, (my favorite guilty pleasure), the joy of central air conditioning, my own cooking, carpeting, cleanliness, straight hair, Special K with Red Berries, walking on flat surfaces, my computer, reading stories with Addison at night, manicures, my shower, having someone to snuggle with as I fall asleep, and of course I'll just miss my girls.

It's always sad to leave, and transition into a new lifestyle. But of course we adapt, and our way of life at camp becomes not too bad. Before we know it, 8 weeks fly by and its time to come home and unpack and settle back in.

One of the best things about camp is that moment when we get home. We're filthy and tired, but this is the day I get my life back. I can just be with my girls and appreciate how magnificent they are. Without a summer at camp, I might not understand what a luxurious life I lead. I get to do the cooking. I get to do the cleaning. I get to do the laundry. I get to do the schlepping. And even though, through most of the year, these responsibilities seem thankless, it is at the end of the summer, when I get to do them again, that I can really appreciate how truly blessed I am.

Her story....

She sauntered into the warm soft room. She was so tired, but finally alone. Here she could rest. She didn't feel like eating, so she snuggled down into the soft downy bed she had prepared herself. She liked nighttime best. Nobody watching her. Nobody telling her what to do. Just quiet. This was the time she could take care of her home. But lately, she just wanted to sleep. That feeling in her belly was there again. Sometimes it tickled her, but this time it really hurt. The pressure from the pain was too much, and she tried to push it away. The next she knew, they were there. Four little blind ones. Squealing, and squirming and screaming. Be quiet, she thought, I'm used to having my peace. She approached them, and moved the dirt that covered them, and they latched on. She was able to quiet them. They all slept.

They stayed together, and she realized that this was her calling. This was the reason she was here. She'd make sure to care for them during the day, and at night she would run her errands and bring food home. They would sleep peacefully, and would be safe here in this warm cozy home she was so lucky to find.

They grew so fast. Soon she saw that they looked like her. They liked to cuddle and play. But her favorite thing was to just watch them sleep. They were her world. When her chest became swollen and sore, they would relieve her discomfort, with their sweet suckling.

She was happy, for no one bothered them here. She sometimes heard odd sounds of others chirping away, but in here, it was private. No one could bother them here.

The loud noise shocked her as she fed them that night. This wasn't one of the normal sounds she was used to hearing. This one was closer. She looked up to see him make his way into her home. "No", she thought, "I don't have anything here for you." She screamed, so loudly and fully that she surprised herself with its resonance. As he came closer, she panicked, "you will not hurt my family." She lunged at him , without hesitance, without really thinking about the ramifications. This was her home, these were her children. They will be safe. They will live happy and full lives, and no intruder has the right to take that away from them.

She scratched him first. A long deep scratch along the right side of his face. The shock in his eyes frightened her, and for a moment, she felt sorry for him. The smallest baby whined and she once again was filled with rage. She moved so fast, and with such fury, she didn't give him much of a chance to fight back. She continued to scratch and pull and bite. He moaned and cried for mercy, and finally he was still. He was alive, but so battered, he couldn't move. She slowly walked away from him as he cried for her help and went back to her babies. They snuggled right into her breast and began to feed. She was completely worn out emotionally, but hardly injured. Her babies warm bodies gave her comfort. She fell asleep to the sound of his dying moans.

She awoke in the daylight and to see another visitor come in from the basement of her home. She was so sore and groggy that she didn't react swiftly to this new intruder. He looked around for a moment and then disappeared. Her once safe and private home now felt like a place she could no longer be happy. She tucked her children safely in their beds, and she set off to find a new place to live. She searched and searched for somewhere warm and dry, and finally settled on a fixer upper not too far from where they were currently living. Her spirit lifted, and she was looking forward to telling them the good news that they were going to have a fresh start.

She gleefully climbed up her stairs to her front door, thinking about how happy they were going to be in their new home. As she went to open the door she suddenly heard a loud "SNAP", and then she could no longer move. She couldn't remove her body from the cage that surrounded her. She thrashed along the sides, she scratched at the cold metal walls, she wailed and hissed and screamed, but she was stuck. Her breasts were filling with milk and she knew that her babies were hungry, but she was helpless. She finally fell asleep with the cold metal under her body and her babies' chattering in her mind.

As the sun came up, she heard jubilant voices and activity down below. That moment when she woke up, she had forgotten about her current predicament, and wondered what all the excitement was about. From her high perch, she looked below and saw a group of people, mostly very young, staring up at... her. The realization that she was the source of this excitement made her want to hurt them all.

Soon, she was taken away from her house. Thrown unceremoniously into a hot and smelly trunk. Her chest was so full with milk that when she landed she cried out in pain. And then she was taken away. "Who would take care of my babies?" she thought, "Nobody knows that they are there. How will they eat? How will they bathe? How will they ever grow up without me?" She refused to entertain the thought that they would surely not survive without their mommy.

She was never the same after that spring. She lived a long life in a new place, but stayed to herself, running her errands at night and sleeping throughout the day. She thought about those babies constantly. She would pretend that they weren't dead, as she knew they must be. Instead she lived in a world of fantasy, creating wonderful, fulfilling lives for her children in her mind. She would never forget them, nor would she forget the place that was her first home.





THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO ITS HEROINE, THE RACCOON THAT NESTED IN MY ATTIC. WHAT SHE NEVER KNEW IS THAT HER FOUR BABIES WERE RESCUED THE VERY NEXT DAY. THEY WERE TAKEN TO AN ANIMAL RESERVE WHERE THEY WERE RAISED. WE EXPECT THAT THEY WILL LIVE LONG AND HAPPY LIVES.




Forgive me for this odd and poorly written short story. We've had a lot of raccoon excitement in the house, after discovering last week that a mommy and babies were nesting in our attic.

Since having had her removed, I cannot stop thinking about her and what she might be going through. I had to write the story to clear it from my head.

xxoo....(now, i can finally fall asleep)

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

We went to the orthodontist today, "an emergency" visit to repair a broken bracket. I love these visits (I better, with $9,000. worth of bills hanging over my head) because they have THE BEST magazines in the waiting room. Come to think of it, with the cash flowing through this office, they should be giving pedicures and serving lattes...

Magazine reading isn't something I get to do often. It's a treat and a luxury. So I eagerly step in to Dr. S and J's office, quickly rifle through the stacks for interesting magazines I haven't yet seen, plop myself in a chair and bury my head in delicious peace.

I would like to say I found an interesting article, but truthfully, I believe this particular article found me. It was entitled "Who's in Charge Here " - and illustrated with an image of a mom being dwarfed by her little girl. A quiz was included, to ascertain whether or not the reader acted as a parent...or a friend.

Of course, I thought, "I'm no friend, I'm the mom. I'm the boss."

• "Is it more important for your child to like you or respect you?" Um, a little of both???
• "Do you like the same music?" Well, so what? I'm youthful and fun.
• "Do you confide in your child?" Well, not really; but last night I did tell her a juicy piece of gossip...(okay, I was tired and used poor judgment; and no, I'm not going to share that gossip here)
• "Do you punish your child and then later give them a little treat, to soften the blow?" Oh boy. Guilty as charged. Really guilty.

I'm a softy. I don't like to make waves. I don't like disharmony. So I placate, calm and smooth, much like my flat iron smooths the kinks out of my hair. The problem is, the kinks will always come back, and the iron will eventually damage my hair. Much like my flat iron, my actions are a temporary fix, but larger problems will most definitely ensue.

One of my girls tested me tonight. And I acted immediately. Privileges were taken away, and I firmly and calmly made my point. Her tactics tested but didn't soften my resolve. Anger, tears, apologies, even charming smiles were sent my way to convince me to reinstate her computer and cell phone access.

Then, I spoke. It wasn't easy, and it didn't feel natural. But I told her the following:

I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND. I AM YOUR MOTHER. IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME THAT YOU ARE ANGRY, BECAUSE YOU NEED TO LEARN TO RESPECT...YOUR PARENTS, YOUR TEACHERS AND MOST OF ALL YOURSELF. I DON'T CARE THAT YOU CAN'T GO ON YOUR MYSPACE, AND IT DOES NOT MATTER THAT YOU CANNOT POST AN "AWAY MESSAGE" ON YOUR AIM. INSTEAD, YOU CAN SIT AND THINK ABOUT WHAT DRIVES ME TO TAKE AWAY THESE PRIVILEGES, AND HOW YOU CAN AVOID THIS IN THE FUTURE.

I very much care what people think about me. I want people to think of me as kind, loving and fun. But I think I've made the mistake of putting my children into this general category of "people". Of course, I recognize they are people. Beautiful, smart, adorable, fun and energetic people. But I am the mother. I am the grown-up. And it's okay for my kids to NOT like me now and then.

I recently participated in a family workshop at our synagogue with my oldest. The subject this month was the holiday of Shavuot, which celebrates Moses' receiving the Ten Commandments. The wonderful instructor likened G-d's commandments to parental rules. A very bright and astute 13 year old girl understood. She said, because of the rules in her home, it gives her a sense of security and love. G-d has given us these commandments to give us that same sense of security and love.

I believe it was "beshert"(meant to be) that this article found me today. I will remember its lesson now and in the foreseeable future, as I parent teens. I hope she'll always love me, because I'll love her (all of them, in fact) forever; but I also hope that once in a while, she won't like me very much. And maybe one day, when she's all grown up, I'll be lucky enough to finally graduate from being her mother and her disciplinarian to just being her mother and, if I'm very lucky...her friend as well.