Why I Have No Time to Blog

This blog is dedicated to Canadian-Israeli Rachel and American-American Rachel (because she also deserves to be hyphenated), who have both sent gentle reminders that it has been a while since I last posted.

It's not that I haven't had things to post about. I've been writing blog posts in my head for weeks. Like the Emergency Layer, election day, traveling husbands. I have just been lacking the time to write them. Here's how my day goes:

6:40 Drag two very unwilling children out of bed. The third child most likely woke up in my bed, staring at me till I opened my eyes and then whispering, "boker tov!"

6:45 Continue dragging the children, one of whom announces, every. single. day. that he "doesn't wanna go to schooooooool! It's such loooooong daaaaaay! And soooo booooorrrriinnngggg!" and one of whom is describing her latest dream in exquisite detail. Try to be patient when they claim they are "so tired." Yes. I know. 10 hours of sleep can be rough on a person.

6:50 - 7:30 We continue to play, on an endless loop, the hit single "Whine 'n Yell (Have You Brushed Your Teeth Yet?)" from my newest album, "Mornin' at the Roses." Then we make the school/gan rounds.

7:45 I return home.

8:00 - 11:00 Drink coffee, stare at the computer screen, hope for inspiration. Give up and decide to work and check Facebook.

11:00 Time for the Ohmigoditsalreadyelevenoclockonlytwohoursbeforethekidscomehomeahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! freak-out!
Decide to push off my errands yet another day in favor of getting more work done. We don't really need milk. Or toilet paper. Or gas.

1:00 Make lunch. It's not my least favorite household chore, because unlike laundry or dirty bathrooms, you can eat it.

1:45 Kids walk in the door. "I hate school" kid mumbles that his day was "Good." Dream girl tells me about every minute of her day in exquisite detail.

2:00 - 4:00 We engage in a mess of homework, chugim and sometimes I drag the kids on those errands I keep pushing off. This way, they can help me push the car.

4:00 Time to pick up the Man of Mystery, when "Mystery" is defined as "What will he tantrum about today?" Usually these hours involve me printing blank sheets of paper (because it only counts as paper if you can pick it up off the printer), letting him eat a PB sandwich in the bath, and giving him cheese slices to place in a toy pot. Also tantrums.

7:00 Finally it's time for bath ("But we just had a bath!" "No! That was 3 days ago!!")/pajamas/teeth/TV. Nadav takes a little jaunt to make a Toilet PeePee. We engage in a lengthy discussion about how his little toilet seat broke and how we use tissues on Shabbat and toilet paper during the week. Then, Nadav grabs the said toilet paper and doesn't use it, but solemnly throws it into the toilet, like an offering to the Toilet Gods.

7:00-Way Too Late o'clock: Vigil! I play Track 16 from "Nighttime at the Roses" called "Those Big Blue Eyes Still Starin' At Me."

Vigil finished. My wandering Jewess wanders around the house, slowly getting herself ready and filling me in on all the details of her day she forgot to mention earlier.

I politely ignore her. (Just kidding sweetie! I am always paying attention!) (In other news, I welcome our newest Loyal Reader: Ariella.)

I think: I should work. I should blog. I should clean up the Cheerios that are milk-glued to the floor.

So I sit and watch TV.

Too late, I crash in bed, drifting off to my favorite nighttime lullaby "Think I Just Heard a Kid."

A Bit of Rambling Never Hurt Anyone

1. I hate the two leftover lasagna noodles in the box. They just rattle around in there, sadly staring at each other, waiting for a can of olives or pickles to land on them and crush them. Every time I'm in the store, I feel like pulling a Steve-Martin-in-Father-of-the-Bride and ripping out exactly the amount of noodles I need.

2. Sundays. Sigh. They are not for the faint of heart. In fact, I wanted to post this on Sunday, but it was such a Sunday, I'm still recovering from its effects.

3. Is there such a thing as picking the right line at the supermarket? Or is the "right line" simply an urban legend, like "pop rocks and soda can kill you" or "celebrities are just like us" or "children who listen the first time." (Have you also gotten stuck behind the young couple paying their grocery bill in 5 shekel coins?)

4. When I talk to myself, I actually talk. Like, my mouth forms words and my voice box makes sounds. Am I alone here?

5. I used to dislike short stories. Why bother getting invested in characters when three pages later you have to forget all about them and learn about new characters? But I recently discovered, thanks to a book of short stories from DADZ, that they are a mom's best friend. You know when you sit down to read a book, and five minutes later you have to stop to break up a fight/clean up a spill/appear to be listening to someone? Well, with a short story that's okay! By the time your attention is needed elsewhere, you've finished the story! You feel accomplished! You actually read a story that did not involve small animals getting ready for bed, that had paragraphs and a font size smaller than 36! Go you!

Going to the Movies

We have been having "movie nights" recently in order to show our kids the Classic Kids' Movies. It's bad enough they are growing up without "I Had a Little Dreidl." We can't also deny them "ET phone home!" can we?

So far we have watched the "Wizard of Oz" and "E.T." It warms the cockles of my heart (what are cockles? And can they be damaged by too much caffeine? I hope not.) to hear them belting out "Because because because because becaaaaaauuuusssse! BECAUSE of the wonderful things he does! DADADADADADADA!" and Ariella's favorite line, "I do believe in spooks! I do believe in spooks! I do, I do, I DO believe in spooks!"

Also on the to-watch list: "The Sound of Music," "The Princess Bride," "Labyrinth," "Superman" and "Star Wars."

"The Sound of Music" will have to be handled carefully for our inquisitive eldest child, who can't last 30 seconds without asking a question. I'm going to have to pre-teach about Austria during WWII, rich English families, governesses, dating and Nazis (and what happens when they coincide), and the basics of Catholicism. (No, she's not actually their mother. And if my children decide to start calling me "Mother Superior" ... I would be okay with that.)

Donny also believes we have an obligation to show them "Home Alone." That one will require decidedly less explanation. Kid. Home by himself. Bad guys getting hurt. Again. And again. And again. Parents come home! The end.

I'll keep you posted - feel free to add to our Must Watch Movie List!