RedsRoom

Long time, no write

I apologize. I have fallen off the writing wagon and I decided I wanted to get back on. If anyone still checks this site after a year, please keep checking back. I am sure there will be more to come.

Let me catch you up on this past year. Nothing too exciting except for the fact that we got pregnant and are due with our new baby girl within days. I have had a pretty uneventful pregnancy and with baby J, nothing stays boring or calm. I will be referring to him as ‘the kid’ as opposed to ‘baby J’ because it is just going to get way too confusing and with preggo brain and mommy brain (which is worse than preggo brain) I am going to get the kids confused. Not that one being a tiny, itty bitty, crying baby girl and a 40 pound non-stop, loud and very opinionated toddler boy would make me rememeber the difference.

So please stick around. If I can dig up some dirt from the past few months, get it down in writing. Happy to see you.

1659 comments June 10th, 2007 Edit

Would you like some whipped cream on that?

After dinner tonight I decided it was time for me to buy a book I have been meaning to get for a long time. It’s called ‘Your Wearing That?’ and it’s about the complicated relationships between mothers and daughters. Being that my mothers unveiling is this coming weekend and her one year anniversary of her passing is coming up I thought it was about time for me to join the group of mothers and daughters (and anyone else) who actually try to understand the most complicated relationship known to the human race. Why I want to torture myself like that? I don’t know. But I feel its something I have to do.

With baby J in tow, we go to the Borders near our new home. I figured I would check it out and see what their Children’s section has to offer. We walk in, J with his sippy, and I see the book that I was there for and grab it. J runs through the aisles as fast as I can blink and I finally get him the Children’s section. I strongly believe you cannot bring a child to a bookstore without buying him a book. I start searching the board books for something that might intrigue him or at least have him sit with me for 5 minutes to read to him. J picks up a little Elmo doll and around the corner, between the board books and the picture books is a nice, grey, commercial sized book cart with the large metal bars and wheels as big as J’s head sits. Elmo seems to find his way to the bay area of the cart and Elmo gets a ride of his life. Going back and forth and up and down the board book aisle. Occasionally he found himself being smashed into a bookshelf, but no one got hurt.

Instead of fighting with him, I let him roll the cart around. It was harmless and he has played with things bigger and much more treacherous than that. I figured I would get him to bring the cart to the register and recommend to the underpaid idiot taking my money to put it in the proper place. Then have an all out temper tantrum scene on the way out of the store.

So on my way from point A to point B we bumped into a woman who obviously worked there displaying her big green (or was it red?) name tag which I didn’t have a chance to read and had quite a superiority complex. She practically chased us down and went up to J telling him that the cart was not a toy. Me, knowing that he wasn’t going to hurt himself, maybe others, but not himself, I briefly explained how I tried to get it away from him and figured I would let him roll it to the checkout. He wasn’t hurting anyone, especially himself, and he was quiet and happy. The woman, in a firm voice, started to explain how the cart was dangerous and he could really get hurt and it shouldn’t be played with by a child. I just stood up as I pulled J away from her beloved cart and stated, “Such a dangerous item shouldn’t be left in the Children’s section of your store.”

She stormed away in a huff.

3 comments April 4th, 2006 Edit

My last post?

Out of nowhere I am told I have to go. I am part of some gang that no matter what my life is about, I have to do what I am told or there are consequences. I drop everything and pack a small bag. My mind is running in a thousand directions and I am trying to figure out how I want to leave things. Do I write a note or do I say what I feel out loud. Do I not say anything and just let life move on without me because I know I will not be back. I will never see my room and my home and all the ones I love again. I have a gut feeling that the sun beating on my golden red hair would be the last that I would ever feel. I am scared. I am petrified. I am weak.

The last thing I do is I go to my son’s bedroom and watch him sleep. How peaceful he looks. He lets out a big sigh. My absolute favorite sound in the world. He has a whole life ahead of him and this is the last day he will know with me in it, I think to myself. Will he remember me? Will he know how much and how deep I feel for him? Will someone tell him all the sacrifices I have and would do for him? I rub his soft and adorable cheek. It’s warm and full of life. I want to run from my fate and take him with me. My heart drops as deep as it possibly could be.

I run to the front lawn and scream out loud to the ones waiting for me.
“I don’t want to go!”
“I WILL NOT GO!”
“You just don’t understand!”
“I cant, I love him too much!”
“You just can’t understand!”
“Your not a mother!”

Someone comes out of the house with a large serving platter of pink and white cookies and says “We know, that’s why you are not going.”

Then I wake up.

2 comments March 8th, 2006 Edit

Plumbing anyone?

Did you know that every house tells a story. Some tell you about the lives of great people growing up or the inspiration to a book or a painting.

We were talking about a friend of mine who’s house has such a great story. Well, in a designer’s eye, it’s a great story. How he got a craftsman to do a perfect pattern stain on the beautiful hardwood floors and how it took over a month to do. How the process of the flooring in the bathroom and kitchen was done with acid and other materials. The tiles were imported and saved from a temple in Israel. How it took over 2 months to put in a fiber optic lit ceiling in his sons nursery room before he was born. All complete with shooting stars and glimmering moons. I do have to admit, their house is just stunning.

My house, well it tells a different story. I can walk through the house and tell you things like (in chronological order) ‘this is the dining room that had more water damage than the Titanic under the drop ceiling’ and ‘this is the bathroom I had to redo because the plumbing was done incorrectly before we moved in and caused a flood in the basement’ and ‘this is the basement where my landscaper left the hose on in the window well and flooded the basement (again)’ and ‘this is where the plumber soldered the pipe and started the fire’ and ‘this is where the fire burned through the walls for 3 hours before we even knew we had a fire’ and ‘this is the original sewer line from the ‘40s. Can’t you tell, its cast iron and it broke off and fell to the ground and flooded our basement a year after we restored the house from the fire and now my basement is all poopie’

I officially declare that we had bought a money pit. My next house is not going to have any plumbing. We will use a well and an outhouse. I think we will be safe then, don’t you think?

2071 comments January 11th, 2006 Edit

I might be a dork…

…but not dorky enough to wear anything like this sweater.

Now I thought that since I don’t celebrate Christmas and I am not too fond of the winter, I would be free from these horrid things that no one with even a half a brain would wear in public. Nope. I had a friend point it out to me that I just had to have it. She either doesnt like me or wears it herself. And if it is the latter, I will just pretend that I don’t know her anymore.

2 comments January 8th, 2006 Edit

Recorded Memories

We take pictures our family members, friends, pets, various wild animals locked up in cages and don’t forget those amazing scenery shots you have to waste a whole roll on. Remember all those pictures and things you have seen through that camera lens? They probably would have been better remembered if you hadn’t been futzing with the apature or shutter speed or anything like that. But the fact you had to record the moment was more important that actually experiencing it in whole.

You brought the film to the store and a week later you got them back and for maybe a month you looked, ohh’ed and ahh’ed and then those wonderful memories were placed in a box somewhere and then forgotten.

Why do we do these things? I have hundreds of pictures in my ‘picture cabinet’ and I rarely take them out. Am I afraid of pulling out a picture of an old boyfriend and wondering if maybe I would have been better off with him? Or get that amazingly deep feeling that I thank every lucky star that that crazy man is out of my life?

It’s strange how now we always have this thing to hold onto and remember, but it seems so hard to actually remember the experience. Maybe if we took the time to sit in the glow of the warm sun and smell the beauty of the blooming flowers, the world would be a different place. Don’t you think?

Add comment December 27th, 2005 Edit

Lost:

It seems like anything that can get away from me, does. I seemed to have misplaced a green sippy cup this evening before bath time filled with juice and water. If you find it, could you please bring it to the lost and found.
Thanks,
Management

1099 comments December 22nd, 2005 Edit

‘Tis the Season

The holiday time is supposed to be the best time of the year, right? Why is it that everyone is stressed, bitchy and downright rude? Most people can’t wait for the bottle of champagne to pop to signify the official end of the crazyness and be free for the next 11 months before the cycle starts over again.

I do not celebrate this nutty holiday but I do participate in the nutso things we all do. In America, for the ‘Holidays’ everyone gives and gets gifts and they are pretty much expected. I have mentioned that gifts should be a matter of thought and care. For Hanukah we have changed our ways to match the 98% rest of the country’s ways. We give and receive gifts. The only thing we lack is the tree, the caroling, although we do have some of our own crazy songs, and the lights on the house.

What does bother me is that so many of those who do celebrate Christmas, you know the holiday with the word ‘Christ’, don’t even know why they do some of the things they do. Like: What is the significance of the Christmas tree? Why do you put lights on your house trying to beat out your neighbors attempt to make it seem like daylight? Why do you exchange gifts? Why do you leave out cookies for Santa? And what is the significance of Santa? Funny how I know the answer to most of these questions.

Now suddenly everyone gets their panties in a twitch about the PC thing to do/say for the ‘Holidays’. Yes, I used to be one of those, but I think it was because I was surrounded by a whole state of ignorant idiots that just wanted to burn the Jews. Asking questions like ‘how can you not believe in Jesus?’ and ‘What is a Jew? A bad cold?’. (Laurel, remember those days?) Seriously, there are people out there that have said these things to me. So now everything is supposed to be ‘Happy Holidays’ which is nice to hear when I live in probably the most Jewish populated area in all of the states. But to go as far as calling a Christmas Tree a Holiday Tree? C’mon! It’s a Christmas Tree. I’m not the stupid one going out every year cutting down a perfectly healthy 3 year old tree just to display it in my home for a few weeks and then toss it out on the street as soon as some figment of my imagination brings me presents. I celebrate the festival of lights. I celebrate 8 days of light when there was not supposed to be more than enough for one. I spin dreidels and eat potato latkas. And what do I get on Christmas? Bubkus! I get all the stores closed and nowhere to get a carton of milk. Well, maybe at the 7-11. You want to know what all us Jews do on your holidays? (Sandi, this is for you) We go to the movies and sneak into as many as we can on one ticket until they throw us out and then go eat Chinese food. I have been doing that since I can remember. I do think its great that there are people out there trying to include me. Wonderful, I am part of something for once. But don’t expect me to put lights on my house and kill a perfectly good tree because everyone else does it. You wish me a Happy Holiday, and I will do the same. You wish me a Merry Christmas, I will wish you a Happy Holiday.

2 comments December 21st, 2005 Edit

This or That

There is a lot about this holiday season that really doesn’t make any sense to me. This time of the year makes me wonder how sane the human race really is. The decorations go up before we even come close to eating the last slice of sweet potato pie and cranberry sauce. We are expected to buy gifts for everyone we know. But its not just about buying a gift that is thoughtful and meaningful. If you buy a gift for ‘this’ amount of money then the recipient needs to buy one for ‘this’ amount. If the recipient buys a gift for ‘that’ amount, then the other person feels bad and has to compensate by giving a gift for ‘that’ amount as well. But if it’s too late to give ‘that’ amount, then you try to make it up for next year’s holiday and then you make the other person feel bad for not spending ‘that’ amount. And if ‘that’ amount is too small, then you just feel like shit all year.

Where does it end? Why does everything seem to have a dollar amount put on it. This or That, it should be a great and thoughtful gift. Something that the person will look at and say, ‘What a great {insert relationship to giver here} I have.’ Even if it was chocolates, Ill be saying what a great gift it was. I can still see it on my hips!

6 comments December 9th, 2005 Edit

The Natural Food Chain

I have 3 completely useless cats living in my home. They suck me of money for their food, their litter and sometimes, I swear they are not even worth the free water. Since we have moved back into this house since the fire, we have had a little problem with mice. They seem to like the kitchen and thank god they stay in that vicinity. I am not much of a cooker, so it doesn’t bother me as much as someone who does use their kitchen on a more regular basis. I mean if you want to consider the carrot pancakes, mac & cheese and the grilled cheese I make daily ‘regular’, then be it.

So, again, I have been finding the middle child, Oscar, ‘watching’ the dishwasher for the past few days. At night he would just sit there and stare. The older buddy, Andre, who is a monster in size, walks into the kitchen meowing his big fat head off so whatever Oscar was trying to pay attention to would run away. The third cat, ChoCho, is such a scaredy cat that even a tiny mouse sighting would put him in hiding under the bed for a week.

This has been going on for days. Maybe even weeks. Last time when we saw this behavior we put out traps and caught the little pooper dropper and booted his rodent ass away, shall we say? So now I am stuck here watching Oscar watch the happenings of a little mouse that keeps leaving little pieces of shit in my cabinets. Aren’t cats supposed to catch mice? Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? The dog chases the cat, the cat chases the mouse and the mouse eats the cheese? I don’t have any cheese!

Now, take it from years ago when we were living in our apartment, my little buddies would bring me cockroaches at night and leave them on the floor on my side of the bed. What happened to my little mousers? God I hope I never get roaches. Yuck.

2515 comments December 8th, 2005 Edit