Imagination Is The New Black

My daughter walked into her room the other night and screamed so loud that we all came running. Apparently, while we were away, someone had ripped her window screen, broken into her second floor room and removed toys from her toy box.   

That "somebody" was Jessie, our elf that has visited our house every year for about a decade. In a "That 70s Show" style circle, Jessie was found, to my child's delight, in her freezing cold room partying on her bed. Our elf looked noticibly tired, probably from walking all the way to the kitchen to make popcorn for her new friends, who must have also come to life briefly to attend the festivities.

And none of this seemed strange to anyone in my home. I am not sure which is worse, the fact that this creepy shit delights my kids, or the fact that we spent more time this week orchestrating a fantasy world, than we did doing real world things. The jury is still out as to whether this will cause my kids to become crazy, clever, castigated or confused. Or even worse... just like me. 


I used to dream that one day I would have a unicorn. Now that I am older, wiser and more responsible, I know that is impossible. Because I am far too busy for another pet. 

Children are born believing anything is possible. That's why they smile so much. Try it sometime! Especially during the holidays. It may be your only escape. 

Wishing you all fantasies, daydreams and childish holiday amusement,

Rachelle

The Carol

My roses are red, my politics - reddish blue.

My children - all girls, my religion is Jew.

You’ll find me still kicking after all I’ve been through.

Please try not to judge me if I’m not like you.

I have lots of friends, but trust just a few.

We don’t all think the same. I have my own view.

I am pretty smart, and I think you are too.

We’re all stuck here together because friendship is glue. 

'Tis the season of peace and the festival of light.
Let's put down our egos and hold each other tight.
It's okay to back down even when you are right.
Or just shut the fuck up if you still want to fight.

In the end, it won’t matter. I promise, it’s true,

If you’re black or white, yellow, green, red or blue,

Or who won the spelling bee or first chair in kazoo,

Who had the strongest religion or political view. 

All that will matter, I promise, it’s true,

Is the love you emit and permit back to you. 

We have only one life, so let's get this right. 

Happy holidays to all, and to all a good night!

SH*T MY KIDS SAY

Maya (My seven year old): (Calling me at work) Mommy, I'm scared! I just stepped on glass. Come home.

Me:  Are you okay? Do you need stitches? Does it hurt?

Maya:  No.

Me: Then why do I have to come home?

Maya: I got blood on the floor and walls. This place looks haunted.

***************************

Maya: (Calling me at work and crying hysterically) 

Me:  Are you okay?

Maya:  No! I tried to put the milk away and it spilled everywhere!

Me: Haven't you ever heard the saying that there is no use crying over spilled milk? 

Maya: But it's everywhere! That's why I'm crying!

Me: But there's a saying that everyone says: There's no use crying over spilled milk. Because it's no big deal. Just clean it up.

Maya: Nobody EVER says that. I'm in second grade and I've never heard anyone say that. When the milk is all over the floor like this, people cry.  (Click)

***************************

Maya:  John bullies me. He makes fun of me on the bus. He is mean and says that there is no Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny or Santa Claus. Is that true, Mommy? 

Me: Well, I'll tell you this... from what I have seen, the kids that do believe get rewarded with money from the Tooth Fairy, candy from the Easter Bunny and toys from Santa Claus. Poor John is missing out on all of the fun. That's probably why he's such an asshole.

Maya: Okay! I believe! Thanks, Mommy! And you know that's going on your Language Chart, right?

Me:  Yep.

The Dark Passenger

Dear Hormones,

I understand that you are simply doing your job, however, there are a few things we need to get straight:

1) This morning, like a godless hussy, I woke up with my child's Halloween candy in my arms, and chocolate stains on my sheets. Stop!

2) Patch up your twisted relationship with my metabolism. Fat jeans are not supposed to be tight.  Sir Mix A Lot was wrong. 

3) Make the force be with me, my liege. My super bitch powers are no match for my teenagers' super bitch powers. The force is strong with those ones. 

4) My children should be afraid of me when you encourage me to raise my voice, not entertained. Make me loud AND scary. Cute and spunky gets me nowhere. Do your job or clean my house. 

5) Involuntary narcissistic rage is not a bad thing if I'm right. Right? 

6) Thanks so much for the hot flashes. My running around outside in shorts and a tank top in 37 degree weather has distracted the neighbors from all the other reasons they could suspect I'm crazy. 

7) There is no reason for me to cry. It was just a commercial. Back the fuck off. 

8) I am positively profoundly pissed off at everyone in the entire world this week. It is time for a safe word. 

Your hostile hostage, 

Rachelle

The Innocent

How to read 50 Shades in public...

The Nature

THINGS I LEARNED WHILE CAMPING WITH MY KIDS:

1)  While you are waiting to get your campsite, and 50 people are in line in front of you, listening to your teenager whisper inappropriate jokes is not a good way to make the time pass quicker. Your seven year old may overhear and yell out "What's a dildo?" actually making the time pass much slower.

2)  The wooden marshmallow roasting sticks you bought for $2 does not make you a smart shopper. They are made of wood.  This makes you a stupid moron.  

3)   Melted marshmallow does not come off of a Juicy tracksuit. The fact that you wore your Juicy tracksuit camping, again, makes you a stupid moron.  

4)  Chasing a bunny rabbit in the dark can be a bad thing. Especially when you realize it is not actually a bunny rabbit, it is actually a skunk. You should stick to star gazing on night hikes.

5)  You should stick to ground gazing on day hikes as we also learned centipedes can be as large as a human foot.  

6)  The person that makes fun of your Mickey Mouse footie pajamas will beg to wear them after the first cold night. Don't hate on the onesies. They are hip AND warm. 

  

7)  The campsite two weeks ago may not have had the breathtaking view of the mountains and the stunning change of the season’s colors like this campsite, but it was free of sticker burrs on the ground to allow for frisbee baseball, had no ants or bees, had larger trees to climb and hide behind to go to the restroom, and a little neighbor girl to ride bikes with Maya. Prettier is not better. It is simply prettier.

8)  When teaching your children about nature, if they roughly throw the cup of tadpoles back in the water because they want to keep them as pets but you've insisted they belong in their own natural and peaceful environment, then you have not yet properly taught you children about nature. Calling them "Dexter" under your breath is funny, only until you think about it, and realize you are far from civilization.  

9)  There is a pure calmness that engulfs my mind and body when I am far from civilization. If this is true for everyone, civilization is not as civilized as we believe.

10)  In the woods, kids cannot escape to their rooms to use iCrap or Skype or sleep or sulk. In the woods, you make your own fun.  And you do it together.  

11) There is nothing funnier in the world than drawing eyes and a nose on someone's chin while they are lying down, and watching them talk. Don’t judge.  Just do it.

12) Seven year olds believe, wholeheartedly, that the Tooth Fairy knows where you are, even when you are in a tent deep in the woods, and especially when you only have twenties and hundreds in your purse. 

13)  When you pee in the woods, and you hear a stranger laughing, it is safe to assume you have not gone deep enough into the woods. 

14)  On day three, it is time to go home! I am exhausted, my back feels crooked as a question mark, and I desperately need a bubble bath. I f@*&%ing dare anyone to tell me Oreos for breakfast and Dairy Queen for lunch are not nutritional.  

15)  There is only one thing better than sleeping in a tent under the stars! JW Marriott.  Definitely JW Marriott.

The Style

Dear Vogue Magazine,

My doctor insists that I start wearing glasses, as I am now over 20 years old. Just a little bit. I have found that the eyewear that is considered stylish is a smaller, petite type of glasses, that does not allow for progressive lenses. Quite frankly, it also irritates the crap out of me when I can see the stupid frames in my line of vision.  I wanted YOU to be the first to know that I have started a new trend, and I am hopeful that it will catch on like a wildfire: Large Glasses! We can call them: Glasses Couture.  I have purchased some and I look absolutely amazing in them.  See my picture below:

Please print this on your next cover.  Big glasses are IN!

Also,  my doctor insists that I stop carrying heavy purses because of my new shoulder problems, as I am now over 20 years old. Just a little bit.  I can't think of any better accessory that delivers comfort and accentuates the one thing that all of our fine young gangstas are rapping about. I have now brought back an old trend: Fanny Packs!  We can call it:  Asses Couture.  See my design below:

Please print this on your next cover.  Fanny packs are IN!

Just trying to keep the "hot" in hot flashes, the "hip" in hip replacement, and the "men" around for menopause. 

Sincerely,

Rachelle

The Great Outdoors

I had a dreadful and disheartening week, so, on Friday, I rounded up my children, herded them into the car, and headed for the woods to the The Middle of Nowhere. 

I just read that last sentence again and it didn't sound right. Not only were there too many commas, but I didn't Freddy Krueger round up the children. I Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold rounded up up the children. My plan was for us to plunge into nature and search for God or tadpoles or those flint rocks that look like an Indian may have been trying to carve them and, most importantly, a campsite sequestered from modern amenities with an electrical outlet for my Keurig and laptop. By the end of the weekend, we found all of the above. 

We settled in to our new temporary home with a feeling of renewal, that only mother nature can provide, and tub full of junk food, that only PMS can ensure. We made a small fire and sat around our table under the stars and got ready to eat our dinner consisting of pb&j sandwiches and powdered sugar Hostess Donettes. Before we started to eat, my seven year old stood up on the table (because in the woods you can do shit like that).  With one hand she aimed the flashlight under her face and with the other she raised her bottle of root beer and said, "Stop! Nobody eat! I want to make toast!" We all complied and raised our beverages. She spoke in resounding diminutive wisdom, "I am thankful for my mom for giving me this awesome family, and I am thankful for God for the food we are about to eat." And then she look puzzled and stood for while with her root beer bottle raised high in the air and said, "Do I say 'cheers' or 'amen'?"  

Without missing a beat, we all cried,  "CHAYYYYYMENN!"

The weekend was restoring for us all and we laughed more than we slept, waded through rivers, danced, climbed trees, played frisbee baseball, roasted marshmallows, told ghost stories, and peed in the woods. But, the most meaningful part of our vacation in the great outdoors, for me, was being surrounded by my family. By the time we left, I was a different person from when I arrived. For better or for worse, my family helps put everything in perspective, and that they did when they presented me the greatest compliment a mother could ever receive when they proclaimed, "You put the 'fun' in "dysfunctional'!" 

Without missing a beat, we all laughed,  "CHAYYYYYMENN!"

With a carload of sleeping smelly children, I drove home reluctantly, listening to the Beatles, and fantasized about how I could take my broken wings and learn to fly. And then it hit me. Like a flash of redneck lightning!  My younguns and I should learn to carve duck whistles! And stop shaving! And say shit like, "Bless your heart!" We could live in The Middle of Nowhere, perhaps near a mall, and live happily ever after! 

Without missing a beat, I hollered  "CHAYYYYYMENN!"

The Jerk

It's a long drop from the top of the world. Enjoy the view while you can.  It's pretty dark down here.  

The good news is that all I need is this remote. And this lamp. And this pillow too. This remote, lamp and pillow, and that's all I need.  

How do bad things happen so quickly?  How does hope fly so far out of reach? How does life just change on a dime? Without reason or notice? Without logic or consideration?

Perhaps one day I'll find my special purpose.

Until then, I guess, there's nowhere to go but up. 

The Motherhood

I had chest pains for about two hours yesterday after I received this message from my 18 year old daughter, after my phone had been silenced, at my eye doctor appointment...

I called my child repeatedly and received no answer.  For an entire hour.  No answer. Okay, realistically it was only an entire ten minutes, but it was a really long ten minutes.  And I got chest pains.

I was sure my baby had been in an accident, after she was stabbed by a mugger, and was lying in a ditch, alone.  Except for the pack of hungry coyotes. And I got chest pains.

The phone finally rang.  It was her!  She was alive! And not crushed or stabbed or dog food alone in a ditch!  And then The Princess spoke...

"I'm at work and my nose is really stuffy!  Will you please bring me allergy medicine?"

And I got chest pains.

I took her some medicine, and I really shouldn't have been surprised. The last time she wasn't feeling well I came back from the bathroom to find this...

I know I have spoiled my children, and it has been my pleasure. I am, however, working hard to teach my 7 year old that this is not the way to get attention, and she has learned well.

She wanted to sleep in my room.  Well played, Maya.  Well played. Of course, the Queen said "Yes."  

The most important thing in my life is to make sure my kids are happy, healthy and laugh at least once a day.  I thought I was doing a good job until I got this text from Middle Child. I think humor is the key to all happiness.

  

But you're not funny, Samantha. 

It's all worth it though...

Motherhood...  it's like an enema.  A cathartic and refreshing gift, that keeps on giving.  

The Crush

My secret crush is Kevin Smith. I've been crushing since the first time I heard him speak during an interview after the movie "Clerks" came out.

Now is the time to pay attention boys... If you make a girl laugh, she will NEVER forget you. I guess the same is true if you make a girl cry. But only one of those will get you laid. 

The Good

Evil wins in Good vs. Evil more often than not. If I take away from that that it is then better to be Evil, then Evil wins again.  

The President

Barack Obama and I really have a lot in common.  Like the President of the United States (POTUS), Currently Raising children Alone as President (CRAP) is a difficult job. Similar to President Obama, as president of my family, I rarely have an approval rating over 49%.  I have tackled budget reform and am still in perpetual debt. I have very lax immigration laws, as every weekend there are migrant teenagers sleeping on my floors and sofas. I don't have an oval office to do my strategizing, just a bathroom. Regrettably, the secret service follows me in there too. Her name is Maya. She is seven. I have implemented an energy efficiency bill that has been ignored, and the deficit increases.  I have a lovely healthcare plan. Omamacare. I kiss boo boos and cure all other ailments with a bubble bath and hot cocoa. This plan makes the world a happier and healthier place.  But only for some.  I view all people as equals. (Except for Rush Limbaugh.) I am strongly for gun control in our home. Each time I wrestle a cell phone away from a grounded teenager, I am reminded to never sway on this issue as I'd be a goner. I favor peace over war, and have zero tolerance for terrorism. If anyone threatens my family, there will be shock and awe, with or without backing. I don't believe anyone needs to show an ID to vote in our home. We are a democracy. All of my ideas are challenged relentlessly, but just like the POTUS, I have full veto power.  I am the change.  With so little backing that I can't even enforce bedtime. I am patiently awaiting my Nobel Peace Prize.  Let me be clear, and make no mistake, This CRAP is hard work! 

The Pride

The Straight

When this little straight girl was asked to help out at the Austin Pride Festival, I was honored and excited to do something positive for people. People who I have watched struggle unnecessarily in this world.  Some of whom I know and love dearly.  I had no idea what to expect as the pictures etched into my mind from past reads were flamboyant, wild and out of control.  I was ready for anything!  I tried to put myself into the spirit of a people who had perhaps only one weekend in “their" hometown where they were surrounded by folks of different ages, colors, sizes and religions, who understood them on a level that nobody else could.  It would be a place where they could be themselves, let loose, and celebrate the freedoms they struggled to protect, and those they aspire to secure.  I fantasized it would be like when I turned twenty-one and went out to celebrate my new freedom.  I drank “screaming o” shots at a night club until I vomited.  The hours between the first shot and the commode are a celebratory wild and exciting indescribable blur.  And I promise to keep it that way.

The Gay

I know now why they have been given the name “Gay.”  I was in the presence of the happiest group of people, collectively glowing from joy, even without the glitter.  There was no loud, ugly or boisterous behavior.  This event was not used as an excuse to act out, rather an opportunity to rejoice. The simple joy emanating from the festival grounds was almost tangible.  I tried to steal as much of it as I could as I looked into the eyes of the people who spoke to me, and hoped that I would, at some point in my life, have a day just like theirs where I felt whole.  The folks who put this event together worked day and night in unbearable heat and nasty dust storms, but not once did I hear them complain.  It was a labor of love.  I have never met such a large group of polite, kind and soft spoken people.  Many covered in glitter, some in outrageous costumes, and all of them nice to me.

The Fear

I honestly did have a smidgeon of fear going into this weekend.  The same kind that I have sometimes going into a synagogue during turbulent times.  There is so much hate in the world.  Much of it comes from ignorance.  All of it is dangerous. Surprisingly, I only witnessed two instances of hate during the Austin Pride weekend.  Both after the parade.  The first was when my date was kind enough to carry my purse for me.  He knows I have a bad back and is one of the most thoughtful gentlemen that I know.  A scary large man came up to us, angrily threw his hands in the air, called him ugly names, and then walked off.  In his defense, from what I heard, he fell into the “ignorance” category. The second incident occurred when two women exchanged words, then one of them threw a rose, as hard as she absolutely could, at the other woman.  In her defense, from what I heard, she deserved it. 

The Pride

There were a few times that I cried this weekend.  The beauty I witnessed was moving. Mostly when straight, sometimes even redneck type fathers, brought their sons to my booth to make sure the family had Pride shirts to commemorate in solidarity the importance of this day.  One adorable kid wore a rainbow colored bow tie and carried an umbrella to match.  We complimented the young man on being smart enough to bring an umbrella to shade himself from the sun.  His father joined the conversation by adding “He wanted to bring his fedora, but we all agreed the umbrella matched better with his outfit.”  I can only hope I am as in tune to my children as these parents were.  The other times were when I saw churches at the parade and festival that were brave enough to publicly support their congregants and others who did not fit some of the translations of their bible.  They preached about a god who loves everyone equally, and what made me cry was that they meant it.  The Pride Festival must have been named for me too.  I was so proud of my humans. 

The Equality

I was raised by professionals who grew up in the hippie generation.  I was taught to love everyone equally.  I taught my kids to be colorblind and although it is not my most eloquent saying “Judge people only by whether or not they are assholes.”   I still don’t understand why gay people want to get married though, other than the whole equality, freedom and benefits thing.  It was not so fun for me. I find it difficult to believe in a government that wants to prevent these lovely people from getting married, but did not once try to stop me from straight marrying He Who Must Not Be Named. It just makes no sense.  We were planted on this planet all the same, and blossomed so delightfully different from one another.  It takes a bit of manure to make us grow stronger, and we do.  It takes a bit of time to learn to share the sun, and we will.   

I truly wasn’t sure if a little straight girl like me would be accepted in this group of people whose common denominator did not include me. Only one person actually asked me if I was gay.  I answered honestly, and with pride.  “No, I am not, but don’t judge me.  I was born this way.”

The New Year

Dear G-d,

Please excuse me and my kids from attending the High Holiday services this year for Rosh Hashanah.  As you know, we have been sick this week and have missed too much work and school.  Do you need a doctor's note? I do have apples, honey, and for some creepy reason, a ram's horn at home, so we will do our thing there if that's okay.  We did go to services last year, and I'm not complaining because we were all inscribed in the book of life, but, well, last year really sucked for all of us.  It sucked hard. But things are really looking up now and I don't want to do anything to mess that up, so can you give me some kind of sign if I need to do something extra, like a make up day or something? How about if you put Showtime back on Time Warner,  then I'll know we are cool.

We girls have tried really hard to do great things for others, and, well you know who, she's just a teenager acting out and has a big heart and almost actually cleaned her room yesterday. Give her a break please.  I read that you created me in your image, so I guess you've gained like seven pounds too.  I will eat healthier starting now. For both of us.  Also, you know how you let Abraham sacrifice a ram, well, remember what happened to the tadpoles we were raising, right?  Can we call that a gesture?   I know I'm not perfect but I know I'm a caring person,  and I'm getting wiser, and stronger, and facing all of the crappy things that have been put in my path like a Maccabee Ninja Chick.  Thanks for the strength. 

I know I question you, your choices, your existence and the crazy people on tv that say they know you, but I'm hoping you dig the fact that this letter is powered by intellect and love rather than fear. I always say "Whatever G-d you believe in, we come from the same one." That's from a McLemore song. Not the holiest thing I could have quoted, but cool, right?

I have a little bit of time before Yom Kippur to reflect for stuff I screwed up, and oh my You, that's going to be a lot of Big Chief pages, but I think that was one of your best ideas!  This way people can work stuff out, tie up loose ends, forgive and move on.  Way to go on that one! I guess it makes up for the not eating pork thing. Bacon is so darn good. Perhaps that would be the one thing I would teach you in return for stuff you've taught us. 

The most important thing I think you have ever taught us is not to do things that are hateful to us, unto others.  So I have remained kind to you know who, even though you know who and family, et al. treat me like you know what.  I have to say, it is not easy. Did you freaking see what they did to my kid last week?  But did you see how this week I was still kind and helpful? Write that down.  It was super hard.   

Last month a bunch of people prayed for my family when, well, you know, and we survived better than I could have imagined.  Was that you?  High five from all of us!  Really.  Moses would be totally jelly. That was epic. I am speechless. Thank you.

I know I am not your best child, but I'm sure I'm not your worst. Hang in there with me.  

Love, 

Rachelle

The Blossom

The clock struck 11:00 p.m. and I suddenly could no longer breath. I didn't know what was happening to me. All I knew was that I was losing her.  And running out of time.  

In exactly one hour, my baby will be gone.  Julia will be eighteen.  An adult.  And she will one day leave me.  

The panic burned my lungs and my arms went numb as I carried box after box down from the top shelf of the laundry room.  The five boxes of pictures were in no order, but I was, for some reason, convinced that if I looked through each one I could somehow make sense of the situation, and stop it from happening.  I looked at picture after picture until a tear slid down my cheek, who then invited about a hundred others to follow, who in turn invited my voice to wail, in pain, like a sick moose. It was a symphony of desperation apparently loud enough to wake Maya, my youngest child, who ran to my side. "What happened, Mommy? I'm scared!"  The only words I could compose were "I'm out of time.  I'm out of time.  I'm out of time."  She retrieved her older sister, my middle child Samantha, from bed and she, with a compassionate, maternal, knowing look on her face held me in her arms and asked me what was wrong. 

I tried super hard to sound rational this time and explained calmly "I have looked through thousands of pictures and I am only in six of them with Julia.  I think I did something wrong and I am sure that it is too late to fix it."  Samantha simply grinned, and reassuringly explained to little Maya, "Mommy is fine.  It is just her time of the month for the period thing."  It was not.  Crap, on second thought, it might be!  After filing away my lack of personal calendaring skills in my mental file called "All The Stuff Rachelle Fucks Up" I was pleased to see that the little one, after having heard the word "period", laughed herself back up to bed for good this time.  

My middle child hugged me again, calmly explained that it was time for me to go to bed, that Julia was fine, safe and healthy, and that I could take a bunch more pictures of her tomorrow.  I realized then, when she said that "I" could take more pictures, that the reason there weren't many pictures of me and Julia was not because I was an awful mom, rather because I was THE mom, and therefore, was always behind the camera.  I took a deep breath, cautiously stepped out of the the irrational sector, and into my comfy bed.  I slept peacefully throughout the night.

Not knowing what direction our new mother - daughter relationship would be taking, I woke up with a bittersweet, thoughtful, cautious and nervous feeling floating around in my gut. Julia came into my room and informed me that she would prefer to spend her actual birthday out on the town with her friends, and would like to celebrate with her family on Saturday.  I told her that was totally fine, that I would make reservations for Saturday, and asked her which friends she would be hanging out with for the big bash tonight. "Sarah, Brandon, Camille, Beth, Taylor, Dakota and YOU."  she said with an impish smile on her face. 

Once again a tear slid down my cheek, but this time only one.  And then I knew.  

The First Day

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL 

The alarm tends to sound way too early on the first day of the rest of your life. This day is known to the young as The First Day of School. The night before the first day of school is not a gentle commencement either, as the words "I'm scared" and "I'm excited" are interchangeable and so cunning that the thoughts that follow those words weaponlessly battle and defeat Mr. Sandman every year. Will I make straight "A"s? Will my hair stay straight in this weather? Why did I agree to write and sing a rap song on the morning announcements to sell spirit shirts?  I should have listened to my mom and used her creative idea for the project, finished my summer reading, and started adjusting my bedtime a week early. (Ya, I made those last ones up.) And when their sweet little brains are done taking stock of their hopes, goals and insecurities, the journey to the next grade begins and their eyes finally close to await the alarm that screams "Grab your socks, soldier. Your summer is gone." 

THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE

I feel like with all the changes, both wonderful and dreadful that our family has encountered recently, that today is the perfect day to take stock of the positive things.   

STOCK OF POSITIVE THINGS

1)  My kids are all healthy, happy, and excited about school.

2)  Me too. 

3)  I am at peace with the extra 7 pounds I have gained, and ate breakfast tacos for breakfast.  

4)  When Maya said "Wow mom, my arms almost don't fit around you anymore." I resolved that it was up to her to grow longer arms.

5)  I didn't go to the bathroom once while running on the treadmill this time.

6)  My wonderful boss lets me go home early several times a week so that I can be with my kids. 

7) My parents and friends love and support me no matter what. 

8)  My editors, who love me very much, talked me out of finishing the story I was writing about a fictional character named Ryan who, in order to accommodate his girlfriend's insecurities, refused to attend his child's 18th birthday dinner. Thank you editorial staff.  Positivity begins now. 

9)  I never go out anymore, but Saturday night, when I did, I learned that the number of times I say "Oh my God this is my FAVORITE song" and run out onto the dance floor like a fool is directly proportional to the number of martinis I drink. 

10) I think I'm allergic to martinis, and dancing, and handsome young men. I will be prepared next time and first take a Zyrtec allergy relief pill, along with a dose of dignity and sophistication.

11) Before my seven year old got on the bus this morning I hugged her and said "It's going to be the best day of school ever!" and she replied "That is because of you, Mom."  That remarkable kid is made up of all things beautiful, unconditional love, and a touch of Eddie Haskell. 

12)  One of the best days of my life, and I know this sounds reprehensible, was when my oldest daughter was very sick a week ago.  She slept with me as I took care of her, and held her in my arms, and watched movies with her, and held her in my arms even more. Because I knew it could be the last time she ever lets me.

13)  My oldest daughter will be graduating soon.  Part of me wants her to spread her wings and fly as far away as she can to encounter fresh new adventures and experience the world, and all it has to offer.  But don't ever tell her I said that, because most of me wants her to stay home.  Forever. 

14) Pitch Perfect 2, the best movie since Encino Man, is coming out in 2015!

15) I decided that I will not post pictures of my kids' first day of school on Facebook.  Everyone does that crap and I am not a follower. I will post pictures of them on a different day of school. And it's not because my camera stopped working this morning. It's because I'm a rebel. 

16)  Mostly I am thankful for you, as I know if you are reading this you have touched my life in some way. And it is because of you I know that no matter what the next perfect storm brings, when I write about it you will laugh at me, or with me, cheer for me, roll your eyes at me, mentally correct my grammar, foul language, creative punctuation and my affinity for starting sentences with conjunctions, or perhaps, and I hope, you even like and understand me. That is how I know that even though we are alone in this life in many ways, our laughter, energy and shared similarities bond us together, so we are never truly disconnected. 

17) The first day of the rest of your life can also sneak up on you so you don't even notice, until later reflection, that your flight path has curved in a surprising new direction.  All we can do is enjoy the ride. 

The Girls

Boys can be mean.  But girls are meaner. Not all, but a lot of them. Like Kathy Bates' character in the movie "Misery," with a touch of Chucky doll, and rattlesnake.  On any day I would prefer being punched in the face by a testosterone filled male than emotionally and estrogenally attacked by a female.  Have you ever noticed that if you don't wear make up or look crappy, a guy will often just tell you to your face: "Hey! You look like crap."  A girl, however, will often call all of her friends to talk about how dreadful you look and tell you to your face that you look fine.  That's just creepy, right?  

I am not saying that I don't love and respect my girl friends. Their honesty, devotion and steadfast support have helped shape me into the person I am today.  Most have been around since I was a child and the others have earned my trust over time.  Because of my experiences though, they were handpicked carefully.

My seven year old daughter was meticulous when picking out stuff when we were back to school shopping last week.  She assured me that even though she wanted to fit in, that she liked being a smart geek.  "But, I'm in second grade." she said, "Girls this year will judge me by how I look."  She is right as I found myself judging her by the hideous, sparkly Justin Beiber backpack she selected.  

Have you noticed that if you say something that a guy doesn't like, he is likely to say either "Whoa!" or "Are you having a bad day?" and allow you to explain. Girls, on the other hand, well, they can be bat shit crazy mean. I actually had my "Best Friends" from when I was in my twenties "Group Dump" me without a word or a phone call because someone said that someone else said that I said something about someone.  I think that is how it went.  I'm not sure, because nobody would answer my calls.  I was pregnant at the time and it honestly nearly killed me. Those girls often said that if you don't show up, we'll talk about you. Hindsight is a bitch... but girls are meaner. 

As I observed my daughters throughout the years on the playground as small children, and then in the cafeteria, as teenagers, it always seemed to be the girls that would hurt or discount their feelings, and the boys remained unwavering companions throughout the years... until they got girlfriends.  

Even as a grown up, during my divorce, a majority of the folks that judged, gossiped, took sides, or treated me with disdain were females.  The saddest part is that these were people who I considered family and friends and loved dearly for half my life.  I wish I could have defended myself better, but in doing so I would have had to belittle others.  I wish I wasn't so empathetic. I wish I wasn't so sensitive.  

I wish I were a boy.   Because apparently I'm too nice to be a girl. And I would like to pee standing up, especially after a hard day at the gym. And in the woods and snow too to write my name.  If I were a boy I could be tough and not just pretend to be tough. And not hold grudges. Girls never forget, because we are like elephants.  But don't ever call us that, or you will pay. Forever.  And I cry. Crying is embarrassing, inconvenient and makes my Jew nose swell.  Also, I really like to say the "F" word.  Probably more often than I should. But it is "soooooo unladylike."  Which is soooooo fucking stupid. But what can I do?  It's not like I could ever become a boy.  Because, DUH - then I would have to date girls. 

The Superstar

And so it begins....

Disney Channel Auditions 2013

My middle child is funny. Samantha has a multitude of talents including wit and one liners that she inherited from her dad and sheer Ernest Goes to Camp goofiness that she inherited from me.  She is never embarrassed to be herself around her peers and always has to have the last word.  Even if it is "That's what she said." In my house, she is the star. Which is why, when she announced she was auditioning for the Disney Channel, I truly felt that she would, win or lose, totally rock it. 

Two Weeks Before the Audition:

She and her BFF got to have a Big Time Photoshoot for headshots, build impressive resumes, and spend the night at each other's houses, more nights than not, rehearsing monologues, songs, jokes and such to prepare and help each other for auditions.

One Week Before the Audition:

I found an article online regarding the auditions that urges the kids to simply be themselves and act natural. The girls continued to spend the night at each other's houses, more nights than not, but were now rigorously rehearsing "being themselves and acting natural."

Two Days Before the Audition:

Middle Child, embracing the new Be Yourself Act Natural Doctrine just wanted to spend the day at Fiesta Texas.  Plans on wearing torn shorts and t-shirt to audition.

Night Before the Audition:

Frantic trip to the mall. 

Morning of Audition:

With a new outfit, hair full of curls and a smile on her face, I drove Samantha downtown over an hour early to beat the crowd of thousands of little fame seekers accompanied by parents who either looked lost or punished. The kids, however, had an energy about them. It was this amazing glow of excitement that everything they hope for is possible, that they can be anything if they believe hard enough. And that wishing upon a star, without a doubt, really can make their dreams come true.  It was almost a tangible thing, and I walked by each child looking into their little faces trying to soak up some of the magic. It brought back memories of a younger, happier, carefree Rachelle.  It was clear to me that TIME, that thing that makes wrinkles, had stolen my passion and adventure and replaced it with purpose and responsibility. And I'm fine with that.  But I've now decided that when I'm done raising kids I plan to be da illest rapper / pole dancer/djembe player at the nursing home. Promise to visit me in the padded room section at Golden Manor. Please? I'll be the superstar in the sparkly dress.

Hour Before Audition:

So... Samantha was given a script to memorize and we practiced that, along with a few stand up routines she had written to introduce herself with.  She was so entertaining that even the people around us laughed out loud.  We had a BLAST getting ready for her big moment. And then it came, her time to shine, as her numbered group was called over the loud speaker. We held hands and walked, without breathing, tenaciously towards the large wooden doors.  

Show Time!

Parents were herded to the right as children were taken to the left, in groups of ten, to show their stuff!

Samantha was ready to WOW them all with her wit, charm and personality.  She could not have been any more prepared for this moment.  And that moment went something like this...

Disney Talent Scout:  Well hello, Samantha! Tell me something about yourself.  What are your hobbies?

And she froze.  After a long pause and realizing all eyes were on her, she mustered up the only words she could find to break the silence. And they were, simply...

Samantha:  I like fireworks.

...And so it ends 

WE'LL GET YA NEXT YEAR DISNEY!

The Colors

Today I can see the colors around me. 

Lately it feels like darkness surrounds me.

Life void of colors and everything's black

including the future, I'm not fighting back.  
My daughters help me see things in color, I think.

The world is less scary when everything's pink.

***********************************************************
Westley once said to Buttercup...

"Life is pain, Highness.  Anyone who says differently is selling something." 

Wesley, my trainer, when I'm in pain just says...
"Shut up."

I guess it's kind of the same thing.

************************************************************

My homework for you today, Reader Moms, is
to search for the colors in your life...

Find five positive things, no matter how small.

If that doesn't work, then go to the mall.

And for my Reader Dads...

Find five positive things, no matter how small.

If that doesn't work, beer, sex, gym or play ball?

And for Everyone Else...

Find five positive things, no matter how small.

No kids, house or spouse?  What the hell, DO IT ALL!!!!!

************************************************************
Here are five positive things in my life today:

1)  Julia is "juicing" and making me drink healthy 
      crap every day.

2)   So I've been really regular.

3)   My kids tortured the nanny and made her cry, 
       BUT they were nice to ME. 

4)   Nanny didn't quit.

5)   Hooray!  No one seeing me naked means 
       no shaving.

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!