and I quote.

zuzu: (at 7am on a Saturday morning) c'mon mommy, let's go play in my room!
mom: I think I might need to make some coffee first.
zuzu: oh, right coffee. and that will rev you up?!

so long April...

It's 8pm and Gage decides he wants to organize the bulletin board in his bedroom. Mind you, his "bulletin board" is comprised of nine Ikea magnetic boards hung side by side and they span the entire wall. But, his mind is set and I absolutely detest the clutter that is up there now so I agree to do some quick purging.

The two of us (both obsessive compulsive and openly non-tolerant of disorganization) stand speechless in front of the vast expanse of two year old art projects, team photos, torn sports illustrated pages, used ticket stubs, autographs & tooth fairy notes. I honestly have no clue where to begin. Then he looks at me, dead serious, and says, "well, I'd like to start by taking down April".

He is referring to a handmade month of April calendar that is hanging in prime location at the bottom of the board. On August 10th. The boy's got smarts I tell you. Mad smarts.

how to cure the hiccups

I had nothing to do with this.  You can actually see me and my mom entering from the garage after the documentary had already begun.  I do wish it were a little more in focus, but considering the director/videographer is only six I think it's a pretty good start.  

Betcha can't guess what finally does the trick...

beeja beeja

If you knew me when I was three you will most likely find this absolutely hysterical.  But if you aren't one of those four blog readers you might just find this absolutely absurd.  Either way.  Here it is.

old maid

Gage: but I really don't want to play old maid.  Can we play go fish, or uno, or crazy eights, or war instead please???

Mom: sure but I really wish it wouldn't upset you so much to lose at old maid.  It's truly not that bad to be stuck with the old maid card.  It doesn't bother me a bit.  I kind of think it's fun!

Grandma: I know! I like getting the old maid card.

Gage: but you two are so much older and have had so much more time to deal with this issue.

religion 101. again. sort of?

Mom: I can't believe I have to put on my winter coat to take out the garbage. In July.

Zuzu: winter is my favorite because it's Christmas

Our guest for dinner, David: why do you love Christmas?

Zuzu: because I love all the presents

David: is that the only time you get presents? (sarcastically, knowing damn well it's not)

Zuzu: no, I got presents on my birthday

Gage: and we get presents for Hanukah too

Zuzu: yeah, all three are my favorites!

David: you celebrate Hanukah?

Gage: yeah, we celebrate Christmas because of my mom but my dad is Jewish...

and I am Jewish too because I've been to that place...  you know... for...

stinky foot in mouth

This morning as we're loading up into the car for pre-school our just turned four year old, Zuzu, takes a quick look at my face. 

"What's that on your chin, Mommy?" 

Great.  Like I wasn't self conscience enough.  

Mommy has a "boo-boo" on her chin, I tell her (because I'm thinking the words "zit" or "pimple" might just perpetuate the conversation).  And then, clearly without thinking at all I say, "I know, it's ugly isn't it?"

I fasten her seat belt and get into the front seat.  I start the car.

"Mommy, what does ugly mean?"

The world stops.  Really?  I just taught our four year old the word "ugly" and now I need to define it for her? At 9am on a Monday?  When I am already preparing to face the gloomy morning with more than one large "boo-boo" on my face? What have I done and how could I be such a terrible influence???

So I attempt to explain that ugly is not a very nice word.  I shouldn't have said it... but sometimes people use the word to define something that is not at all pretty.  Just like sometimes people use the word stupid to describe something a little annoying when they shouldn't.

"So ugly is like Shrek, right?  Because he's an Ogre.  So he is ugly."

But is he?

Four.

and I quote.

gage: knock knock

mom: who's there?

gage: zu

mom: zu who?

gage: no, silly! her name is zuzu not zuhu!

zuzu: knock knock

mom: who's there?

zuzu: zu

mom: zu who?

zuzu: no, silly! my name is harry not zuhu!

and I quote.

zuzu: I'm done (with dinner)

mom: You need to eat your last strawberry.  A corndog, four grapes and two strawberries is hardly enough dinner.  Especially since I know you're going to want an ice cream cone later.

zuzu: (ponders last strawberry on plate for a brief second)
And ice cream!

and I quote.

mom: well let's see when dad is available

zuzu: when dad is available?! we can buy dad on line!

the maiden voyage

Next time I hope to venture further from shore.  

But it's definitely a start!
And I was able to be incredibly helpful by gathering sand toys (ok, one toy) that had unsuspectingly swept out into the bay.

and I quote.

zuzu: c'mon mommy, come in my room and let's put babies in our tummies.

mom: zuzu, I've already had two babies in my tummy and I really don't want any more.

zuzu: no mommy!  this one doesn't kick.  it's FAKE!

and let the dog days begin...

the beach.  it does a body good.  and it's far cheaper than therapy.

warning.

Warning: Random Thursday afternoon trips to Toys R Us my cause seriously ecstatic behavior in children.  Proceed with caution. And a Grandma with a camera.

and I quote.

 I often have great one liners that seem worth sharing with the family but, at the same time, hardly constitute a blog post.  However, since I seem to be posting pretty erratically these days, I figure what the hell.  

Introducing "and I quote." Check back regularly for the latest and greatest gage & zuzuisms.  Here to start you off...

mommy: i love you, now go to sleep, I'll come back and check on you after I get ready for bed.

 zuzu: ok, but when you come back to check on me will you please wake me up?

we {heart} our daddy

We {heart} our Daddy more than ice cream...

and toys r us...

and funny songs with potty words in them...

and hand held electronic devices...

and princesses...

 and play dates.

And that's really, truly a lot.

Happy Father's Day!

Love, Gage + Zuzu

happy father's day!

This is my Daddy looking over his little girl in 1986.  So explains the exposed shoulders and bad earrings.   But fortunately, not much else has changed.  My Daddy is still looking out for me now.  And yes, I still call him Daddy.

Daddy,

I love you and I wish you were to here to celebrate Father's Day with us today.  But know that even though you are way across the country, you are here with us in spirit.  Plus, your delayed arrival has given me more time to compile my "Daddy Do List" before you do get here!  

I hope your day is perfectly uneventful.

xo

summer math

Today I asked Gage to do some math homework.  I know, I'm a terrible, cruel mother to do this less than 48 hours after school ended for summer.  But I did.  

Now, I'm not going to go into the whole story about how he got 99 out of 100 correct in 6 minutes and 45 seconds when there were a full 10 minutes allocated to the test, and then proceeded to throw a complete tizzy fit because of his utter imperfection.  Or that the problem he missed was 9+8=16 when just three lines above he got 8+9=17 correct.  Or that we had JUST spent a good amount of time reading his report card and discussing that the smartest and most accomplished of people make mistakes.  And then learn from them.  And that one of his goals for next year is to understand that making mistakes is acceptable and even encouraged.  And I'm definitely not going to get into how this all makes me pull my hair out because I wonder if it's something that we've done to make him such a damn perfectionist or if he simply inherited that inescapable gene from his whack job parents.  (No offense to his father).

Nope, I'm not.  Instead I'm going to teach you the math that was not on the test but we learned just a few hours later.

child #1

+ summer vacation day #2

= positive strep diagnosis in 2010 #3

How's that for some math?

urgent - missing south florida woman

So I know this is generally a happy place, and I also know that I don't get all that many hits here, but I feel compelled to write this post tonight.

I met Lynda Meier in 1987 in Oxford, England.  I lost touch with her many, many years ago but facebook reconnected us just a few weeks ago.  I learned today via facebook that she went missing on Friday, last seen driving out of her Hallandale Beach apartment in her red 2007 Cadillac Escalade. A day later, two women were photographed by a security camera using Meier's credit card at a Wal-Mart in unincorporated Miami Dade County near Miami Lakes.  No one has heard from her since Thursday night.  She is a single, 40 year old woman.

I'm not sure what I hope to accomplish here, and I honestly don't know much about Lynda's current life.  I just know that if I went missing I would hope that everyone I had touched in my life did SOMETHING to help find me.  Anything.

This is the most recent sun sentinel article about her disappearance.  Please share it in any way you feel comfortable.  Thanks!

two boys and a menorah

It all started when Gage's brand new friend, who's family just moved here from Texas, spied our something shiny on the bookshelf.  

friend: What's that thing on your bookshelf? 

me: Which thing?

friend: That gold thing?

me: That's a menorah.  It's a traditional candle holder in the Jewish religion.

friend, turning to gage: You're JEWISH?

{mind you, have you seen our pasty white, blue eyed, toe-headed son?}

gage:  Yes, I'm Jewish.  My dad is Jewish.  And my mom is.... 

{even he is stumped}

friend: Christian?

gage: yeah, Christian

me : {quiet while we all assess the situation}

friend, to gage: So do you believe in Jesus?

gage, without pause: Who's that?

me: {wanting to say... honey, people can believe in Jesus in many different ways. But reminding myself that he is SIX YEARS OLD and his parents are NOT HERE... and not knowing what in the world else to say} honey, we don't really talk so much about religion in our house.  CLEARLY.

They moved on.

Case closed.  

But is it?

Our children hail from two very proud, and very different backgrounds.  Their ancestors and grandparents are followers of both the Jewish and Christian religions.  

They have been to services for the High Holy Days (of course the local Temple holds their chidren's services in a nearby Church... go figure) and have partaken in Passover dinner. They've lit the candles on the menorah and can sing the blessing.  The hunt for Easter eggs and their stockings get filled by Santa on Christmas Eve.  But they've never been taught religion.  Just tradition.

Now please, do not judge.  Because, you see, I do not judge you.

But I did start to evaluate our children's exposure to religion and why our son has no idea who Jesus is.  It seems we've talked about God and all of the possibilities that go along with life on earth.  We've talked about inequality and injustice and, in a manageable sense, the persecution of the Jews.  But I'm thinking that's pretty much as far as we've gotten.  (Other family members feel free to raise hands if this is incorrect.) I suppose, in all fairness, I should say, that's as far as I'VE gotten.

We have good friends that observe Shabbat every Friday and attend Hebrew School.  Others that would never miss Church or Bible study on Sunday.  But no one really talks about it.  And I like that.  No, I love that.  Is that so terrible?  I love that my friends are all different and that no one gives a damn.  I love that my life and my social interaction is not influenced by the God I choose to worship.  Or not.   But I think we've just been thrown a curve ball.  

Like I told Gage's friend, we don't talk about religion in our house... but maybe we should.  Give our children the tools that they need to take the spiritual path that's right for them when the time is right.  Because clearly, mom and dad aren't driving that carpool.