Don't Bagel a Model, Too Many Carbs!

I had an interesting encounter the other day. A jogger with a doggie passed by while I was walking with the children. We exchanged the usual neighborly hellos that makes me proud to live OOT (Out of Town). The kids started jabbering about the dog and she turned back and asked if we wanted to pet him.

Then came the bagel:

"I love how you look so stylish for a frum (observant) person, that's not usually the case," she tells me.

I could definitely name several things about my appearance that morning I was unhappy with, but I still appreciated the compliment.

Even better than unexpected compliments are unexpected compliments that lead to a whole conversation about orthodoxy, women in Judaism, women of other religions, oppression of women in the world.

I mentioned how even my loudmouthed, attention-seeking self isn't bothered by not being able to lead prayers, read from the torah, or any other public synagogue position. Even more I'm glad no one interrupts my prayer in synagogue to ask if I want an honor during the services. How do you men deal with that? It's so annoying!

We heard each other. Looking presentable or (even better) good can be a kiddush Hashem (elevation of G-d's name). A woman can be frum, well dressed, out going, normal and balanced and fit into a regular religious community. And observant or not, we are lucky to have the freedoms we have to be ourselves. Ok, so I try to be myself only better since there is always room for improvement.

I had an interesting encounter the other day. A jogger with a doggie passed by while I was walking with the children. We exchanged the usual neighborly hellos that makes me proud to live OOT (Out of Town). The kids started jabbering about the dog and she turned back and asked if we wanted to pet him.

Then came the bagel:

"I love how you look so stylish for a frum (observant) person, that's not usually the case," she tells me.

I could definitely name several things about my appearance that morning I was unhappy with, but I still appreciated the compliment.

Even better than unexpected compliments are unexpected compliments that lead to a whole conversation about orthodoxy, women in Judaism, women of other religions, oppression of women in the world.

I mentioned how even my loudmouthed, attention-seeking self isn't bothered by not being able to lead prayers, read from the torah, or any other public synagogue position. Even more I'm glad no one interrupts my prayer in synagogue to ask if I want an honor during the services. How do you men deal with that? It's so annoying!

We heard each other. Looking presentable or (even better) good can be a kiddush Hashem (elevation of G-d's name). A woman can be frum, well dressed, out going, normal and balanced and fit into a regular religious community. And observant or not, we are lucky to have the freedoms we have to be ourselves. Ok, so I try to be myself only better since there is always room for improvement.

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Fun in an Elevator: NY state of mind

The elevator doors closed. The silence lasted only one brief moment.

"Well Mommy, what would happen?" my four year old persisted.

The small space was jam packed with a mix of professionals, vacationers, and our family, complete with two curious preschoolers. I was put on the spot.

I knew there was no avoiding answering her, the best I could do was mitigate the confusion I was about to unleash with as much information as I felt I could share.

"Um, I guess if the Statue of Liberty got into a knife fight with another statue, a bad one, she should probably win."

The exchanged glances around the elevator were amused and knowing Looks like I was blessed with fellow parents, or at least easy going folk.

Miraculously, this ended the several hour debate we'd had ever since we'd seen Lady Liberty from the ferry. Something about the Statue had spoken to my headstrong little one. She represented majesty, imagination, and wicked street fighting skills.

I think I'll have to share this post and a clip from Ghostbusters with this one when she's older.

The elevator doors closed. The silence lasted only one brief moment.

"Well Mommy, what would happen?" my four year old persisted.

The small space was jam packed with a mix of professionals, vacationers, and our family, complete with two curious preschoolers. I was put on the spot.

I knew there was no avoiding answering her, the best I could do was mitigate the confusion I was about to unleash with as much information as I felt I could share.

"Um, I guess if the Statue of Liberty got into a knife fight with another statue, a bad one, she should probably win."

The exchanged glances around the elevator were amused and knowing Looks like I was blessed with fellow parents, or at least easy going folk.

Miraculously, this ended the several hour debate we'd had ever since we'd seen Lady Liberty from the ferry. Something about the Statue had spoken to my headstrong little one. She represented majesty, imagination, and wicked street fighting skills.

I think I'll have to share this post and a clip from Ghostbusters with this one when she's older.

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Driving Me Sane

As my husband continually reminds me, my thirtieth birthday is on the horizon. Given my "advanced" age many people are surprised to hear that I only recently got a driver's license. Almost thirteen years after my post driver's ed hiatus, I finally achieved what others my age take for granted.

I am very independent by nature so my pedestrian years were only hindered by how far public transportation or my cute shoes would take me. Once I had two kids in tow, that distance was considerably shortened. The heady freedom that comes from needing to go somewhere, leaving when it suits me, and getting there quickly is incredible!

When I think about the most exciting place I've taken myself there are several top contenders:

• Running out to the grocery for a time sensitive needed item. No more relying on hubsters' manly instincts, which sometimes end with him returning empty handed.
• The mikvah, nuf said.
• Getting the kids to school on time.

But today was the best of all. I took the kids to a park in the next neighborhood. One we'd gotten to with a good friend who shares her extra car seating and masochistic desire to travel out numbers 2:1 in favor of the rugrats. But the pleasure of taking them myself today was sweet. I was providing a simple, pleasurable treat to my children. Were they lacking before? Not with a park and library walking distance from home. Not for love, crafts, food, caring, and fun. Who doesn't love a little extra though? And I was able to do it myself. Even the rain on my parade couldn't rain on my parade.

I'm already hoping for a sunny day next week so we can hit all the hottest preschool fun spots more than 15 mins from home.

First I'm celebrating with a mommy's night out. I'll drive!

As my husband continually reminds me, my thirtieth birthday is on the horizon. Given my "advanced" age many people are surprised to hear that I only recently got a driver's license. Almost thirteen years after my post driver's ed hiatus, I finally achieved what others my age take for granted.

I am very independent by nature so my pedestrian years were only hindered by how far public transportation or my cute shoes would take me. Once I had two kids in tow, that distance was considerably shortened. The heady freedom that comes from needing to go somewhere, leaving when it suits me, and getting there quickly is incredible!

When I think about the most exciting place I've taken myself there are several top contenders:

• Running out to the grocery for a time sensitive needed item. No more relying on hubsters' manly instincts, which sometimes end with him returning empty handed.
• The mikvah, nuf said.
• Getting the kids to school on time.

But today was the best of all. I took the kids to a park in the next neighborhood. One we'd gotten to with a good friend who shares her extra car seating and masochistic desire to travel out numbers 2:1 in favor of the rugrats. But the pleasure of taking them myself today was sweet. I was providing a simple, pleasurable treat to my children. Were they lacking before? Not with a park and library walking distance from home. Not for love, crafts, food, caring, and fun. Who doesn't love a little extra though? And I was able to do it myself. Even the rain on my parade couldn't rain on my parade.

I'm already hoping for a sunny day next week so we can hit all the hottest preschool fun spots more than 15 mins from home.

First I'm celebrating with a mommy's night out. I'll drive!

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Dogs Don't Fly: Death Defying Dog Gets 2nd Chance

I come across amazing news articles all the time thanks to friends on Twitter and Facebook and more on Google Reader. This article blew me away: Hungry eagle inadvertently swoops toy poodle away to better life

How many times have you thought to yourself "Life couldn't get any worse!" but then it does. How many times have you said "It'll never get better" but it does.

This poor little doggie lived in poor conditions as a stray. Couldn't get worse for a poor, defenseless creature, right? Hungry, tooth decay, foot problems. Then she's captured by an eagle then dropped from the sky. Broken ribs, scratches, petrified. Why do bad things happen to good doggies you ask? Well, the story has a happy ending. Her parachute-less skydiving drops her at a nursing home where nurses got her medical attention. She wouldn't have survived much longer on the streets and now she has a chance to be adopted, mended, loved.

Hashem takes care of his creatures great and small. We're supposed to pray for his help even as the sword (or eagle's talons) is at our neck because salvation can come in an instant.

This little doggie's life is a parable for human suffering. Sometimes the bad things that happen bring about the best. Sometimes things get worse before they get better. Sometimes when you think things will never change, they do. Yes it stinks in the mean time, it's scary, it hurts, it may be all you know. But in the blink of an eye it can all change.

The linked article includes ways to donate to help May (what staff named the miracle pooch) with medical expenses and adoption.

I come across amazing news articles all the time thanks to friends on Twitter and Facebook and more on Google Reader. This article blew me away: Hungry eagle inadvertently swoops toy poodle away to better life

How many times have you thought to yourself "Life couldn't get any worse!" but then it does. How many times have you said "It'll never get better" but it does.

This poor little doggie lived in poor conditions as a stray. Couldn't get worse for a poor, defenseless creature, right? Hungry, tooth decay, foot problems. Then she's captured by an eagle then dropped from the sky. Broken ribs, scratches, petrified. Why do bad things happen to good doggies you ask? Well, the story has a happy ending. Her parachute-less skydiving drops her at a nursing home where nurses got her medical attention. She wouldn't have survived much longer on the streets and now she has a chance to be adopted, mended, loved.

Hashem takes care of his creatures great and small. We're supposed to pray for his help even as the sword (or eagle's talons) is at our neck because salvation can come in an instant.

This little doggie's life is a parable for human suffering. Sometimes the bad things that happen bring about the best. Sometimes things get worse before they get better. Sometimes when you think things will never change, they do. Yes it stinks in the mean time, it's scary, it hurts, it may be all you know. But in the blink of an eye it can all change.

The linked article includes ways to donate to help May (what staff named the miracle pooch) with medical expenses and adoption.

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Plagued during Passover

This year's celebration was much less eventful than the last. I cut 1/5 less fingers. All of our wall fixtures remained in place. And no one was poisoned. That I know of.

We had our flops to be sure. Note for next year: 1) resist hubster's persuasive tactics and do not attempt to make his mother's chocolate cake recipe. 2) Especially when missing some of the ingredients. 3) In case #1 is disregarded, do not attempt to remedy #2 with ill-conceived substitutions.

Some winners included the frozen meatloaf I revitalized with brisket juice. I figured, what couldn't be made better with brisket juice? The answer: NOTHING! It was the best meatloaf I've ever had. Ever.

The other winner was so cool, it will warrant it's own Droolworthy Doodads post. It was fantabulous! Stay tuned!

This year's celebration was much less eventful than the last. I cut 1/5 less fingers. All of our wall fixtures remained in place. And no one was poisoned. That I know of.

We had our flops to be sure. Note for next year: 1) resist hubster's persuasive tactics and do not attempt to make his mother's chocolate cake recipe. 2) Especially when missing some of the ingredients. 3) In case #1 is disregarded, do not attempt to remedy #2 with ill-conceived substitutions.

Some winners included the frozen meatloaf I revitalized with brisket juice. I figured, what couldn't be made better with brisket juice? The answer: NOTHING! It was the best meatloaf I've ever had. Ever.

The other winner was so cool, it will warrant it's own Droolworthy Doodads post. It was fantabulous! Stay tuned!

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Pesach Cleaning thanks to Heloise

I don't know if anyone else remembers reading the "Hints from Heloise" column in the newspaper. As a voracious reader, practical thinker, and short-cut lover, I loved reading her tidbits starting from a young age.

I was so excited to see a copy of Heloise's Kitchen Hints at a thrift store and snapped it up without hesitating. It was more as a keepsake and was promptly tucked in with my cookbooks. I haven't taken a chance to really read through it.

Fastforward a few years and I find myself knee deep in Passover prep. My oven is a disaster thanks to hubsters' speciality "Chicken ala geyser." I tried my usual combo: baking soda paste, salt scrub, and a generous dash of elbow grease. I even tried using hubsters' elbow grease. I was so tempted to buy some Easy Off and well, get it off easy. But toxically. Then I remembered this little gem on the bookshelf. Of course she has a whole section on oven cleaning. The oven was covered in a paste of baking soda and left over night. The racks were plunked into the bathtub with soap and hot water to soak over night. I got some sleep.

Today, after more elbow grease, hubsters added vinegar to the oven mix. The man has seen me in action enough to know I mix them, but not enough to know it makes a volcano, but when I went into the kitchen it was all done! No steel wool, no easy off!

And the racks? Mostly everything wiped off easy peasey.Course for Passover "mostly" won't cut it so I did re-submerge and gave em a good scrubbing with a microfiber sponge. Viola!! They are even nicer than when we moved into this place! The tub does have a heinous ring around the tub, but my calculations show it'll be easier to remove than steel-wooling the racks would have been.

Hopefully there are enough people who have yet to tackle oven who can try these Hints from Heloise. If you are in the group that is partway through your Passover cooking in a spotless kitchen, I don't want to hear it unless there is a gift of chocolate to accompany your cleaner-than-thou proclamations.

If you want your very own Hints from Heloise book, a quick Google will show you where to buy one, whether vintage or new printing. Or you can hope for a blessed thrifting like I did!

Now, does Heloise have tips for dealing with suspicious noises coming from bored, Passover ignored children? If you see my kids covered with baking soda, you'll know why!

I don't know if anyone else remembers reading the "Hints from Heloise" column in the newspaper. As a voracious reader, practical thinker, and short-cut lover, I loved reading her tidbits starting from a young age.

I was so excited to see a copy of Heloise's Kitchen Hints at a thrift store and snapped it up without hesitating. It was more as a keepsake and was promptly tucked in with my cookbooks. I haven't taken a chance to really read through it.

Fastforward a few years and I find myself knee deep in Passover prep. My oven is a disaster thanks to hubsters' speciality "Chicken ala geyser." I tried my usual combo: baking soda paste, salt scrub, and a generous dash of elbow grease. I even tried using hubsters' elbow grease. I was so tempted to buy some Easy Off and well, get it off easy. But toxically. Then I remembered this little gem on the bookshelf. Of course she has a whole section on oven cleaning. The oven was covered in a paste of baking soda and left over night. The racks were plunked into the bathtub with soap and hot water to soak over night. I got some sleep.

Today, after more elbow grease, hubsters added vinegar to the oven mix. The man has seen me in action enough to know I mix them, but not enough to know it makes a volcano, but when I went into the kitchen it was all done! No steel wool, no easy off!

And the racks? Mostly everything wiped off easy peasey.Course for Passover "mostly" won't cut it so I did re-submerge and gave em a good scrubbing with a microfiber sponge. Viola!! They are even nicer than when we moved into this place! The tub does have a heinous ring around the tub, but my calculations show it'll be easier to remove than steel-wooling the racks would have been.

Hopefully there are enough people who have yet to tackle oven who can try these Hints from Heloise. If you are in the group that is partway through your Passover cooking in a spotless kitchen, I don't want to hear it unless there is a gift of chocolate to accompany your cleaner-than-thou proclamations.

If you want your very own Hints from Heloise book, a quick Google will show you where to buy one, whether vintage or new printing. Or you can hope for a blessed thrifting like I did!

Now, does Heloise have tips for dealing with suspicious noises coming from bored, Passover ignored children? If you see my kids covered with baking soda, you'll know why!

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Vegetables are what Food eats

I'm working with a nutritionist to revamp my diet. Today was day one. The rules are pretty simple. No sugar, no carbs, no dairy. As many vegetables, eggs, beans, chicken, fish, and Ezekiel bread I can manage. As a Texan I was raised with the belief that vegetables were fabulous . . . for feeding up the animals we would later barbecue. My mom always made the requisite side green, and often a meal had a side salad, or as an appetizer. But never the whole meal. Until now.

So today is Day 1. I headed to Whole Foods and loaded up on organic fixings. I piled up an enormous salad for lunch. Arugala, butter lettuce, carrots, green beans, clover sprouts, tomatoes, broccoli slaw, half a chicken breast. After the preschoolers swarmed I still ate enough to feed all of Watership Down. And afterwards it was as if I had eaten nothing at all. Arg!

Pic from the Flickr stream of Carly Lesser & Art Drauglis

"You'll be hungry because you aren't filling up on empty calories," he said. "You can eat more salad, or a piece of fruit to mix things up."

So now I am envisioning a future where I'm splitting my time between washing and checking vegetables (for bugs) and grazing. Moo.

No more quick quesadillas or rice and beans for lunch. No oatmeal or cottage cheese for breakfast. No lattes, homemade or Starbucks. No snacking on cheese or grabbing a few pretzels. Can I do it? I'm not sure.

It reminds me of the first Pesach I tried to keep. My friend and I were aflame with the fervor only a newly minted Baal Teshuva (new returner to Judaism) can manage. We knew that we couldn't eat bread and grain products for the week. In the university dining service that left us with only the salad bar for nutrition. For three meals a day. After three days I called my rabbi and between bawling, sniffling, and tummy rumbling I announced that we were dying. It was unnatural to only eat salad 3 meals a day. I felt weak, hungry, and my fire was dimming with each leafy bite. I didn't know if I could continue. The rabbi and his wife came to the rescue within the hour with platters of chicken, potato kugel, and other real food. Our Pesach was saved, our flame simmered on.

But no one will be riding to my rescue now. I won't have religious conviction to keep me from cheating or quitting. I'm not sure if the monetary loss invested in the nutritionist & the specialty foods will be enough. Please G-d there will be some results. If I'm gonna be eating rabbit food, I'd better see a little more bounce in my step!

I'm working with a nutritionist to revamp my diet. Today was day one. The rules are pretty simple. No sugar, no carbs, no dairy. As many vegetables, eggs, beans, chicken, fish, and Ezekiel bread I can manage. As a Texan I was raised with the belief that vegetables were fabulous . . . for feeding up the animals we would later barbecue. My mom always made the requisite side green, and often a meal had a side salad, or as an appetizer. But never the whole meal. Until now.

So today is Day 1. I headed to Whole Foods and loaded up on organic fixings. I piled up an enormous salad for lunch. Arugala, butter lettuce, carrots, green beans, clover sprouts, tomatoes, broccoli slaw, half a chicken breast. After the preschoolers swarmed I still ate enough to feed all of Watership Down. And afterwards it was as if I had eaten nothing at all. Arg!

Pic from the Flickr stream of Carly Lesser & Art Drauglis

"You'll be hungry because you aren't filling up on empty calories," he said. "You can eat more salad, or a piece of fruit to mix things up."

So now I am envisioning a future where I'm splitting my time between washing and checking vegetables (for bugs) and grazing. Moo.

No more quick quesadillas or rice and beans for lunch. No oatmeal or cottage cheese for breakfast. No lattes, homemade or Starbucks. No snacking on cheese or grabbing a few pretzels. Can I do it? I'm not sure.

It reminds me of the first Pesach I tried to keep. My friend and I were aflame with the fervor only a newly minted Baal Teshuva (new returner to Judaism) can manage. We knew that we couldn't eat bread and grain products for the week. In the university dining service that left us with only the salad bar for nutrition. For three meals a day. After three days I called my rabbi and between bawling, sniffling, and tummy rumbling I announced that we were dying. It was unnatural to only eat salad 3 meals a day. I felt weak, hungry, and my fire was dimming with each leafy bite. I didn't know if I could continue. The rabbi and his wife came to the rescue within the hour with platters of chicken, potato kugel, and other real food. Our Pesach was saved, our flame simmered on.

But no one will be riding to my rescue now. I won't have religious conviction to keep me from cheating or quitting. I'm not sure if the monetary loss invested in the nutritionist & the specialty foods will be enough. Please G-d there will be some results. If I'm gonna be eating rabbit food, I'd better see a little more bounce in my step!

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