The Road Not Taken

Have you been wondering where I've been and why I haven't been blogging? Nah - you probably weren't. But I'll tell you why you should have been.

4 weeks ago, a friend challenged me (and a few other bloggers) to a blog-a-thon. 30 days of blogging. We were committing ourselves to blog 6 days a week for 4 weeks. Yes, I know that's not really 30 days. But it was close enough :-)

For the first three weeks of this challenge, I surprised myself by actually sticking to the commitment. I blogged every day. Sometimes about the most random things. But I did it.

Until last week.

We had just returned from vacation, my house was a wreck, and I was starting to get nervous. The reason being, I knew my road test would be coming up soon. (See the story leading up to my road test here).

I was too nervous to blog. I didn't want anyone to know about my upcoming test. And I was avoiding my chores (thus didn't have a thing to blog about!)

On Thursday, I got the call I had been waiting for. My driving instructor told me he had my test scheduled for Sunday morning. He even offered to give me 2 extra lessons right before my test to calm my nerves.

Sunday is today. I already had the lessons. And I already took the test.

Guess what.

I PASSED!!!!!  


Now, instead of it being the "Road Not Taken", I think I'll take it. And any other road that comes along...

A Bushel and a Peck

Recently, I've been thinking quite a lot about my grandmother who passed away almost eight years ago. This grandmother was a "born organized" person. She tried to teach me many tips and tricks. Unfortunately, most didn't stick. But there is plenty that did stay with me - and one thing that stayed with me was the following song that she would always sing to us. This song always makes me smile. Therefore, I decided to share it with all of you.

I Can't Help You - I'm Busy Procrastinating

This chicken pox thing is really taking it's toll on me.

When I first started this blogging challenge, on one hand I was completely nervous. On the other hand, I knew that by signing up, I'd be ensuring that my cleaning would get done. I knew that these 30 days would be the best my home has ever looked.

I was wrong. Chicken Pox has a way of changing things for everybody.

While I'm so happy that the only symptoms my son has are the spots all over his body, it's no fun having a kid completely stuck at home who feels totally fine. He's going a little stir crazy. And he's stirring up a lot of messes with him.

So, I need to watch him like a hawk. He has decided today, to test the laws of gravity. Let's just say that there have been many injuries today.

I have not been able to leave his side. And I am completely wiped out.

If only he would take a nap, I might be able to wash my dishes from the weekend. Or do some laundry. Or even make dinner.

But I can't do any of those things. And by the time he goes to bed, I'm ready to sleep as well.

So instead of pushing myself to get things done, I have decided that the only way to keep my sanity this week, is by procrastinating.

Yes, you read that right. My plan for the next couple of days is to procrastinate.

Life threw me a few curve balls this week. I'm just trying to roll with the punches.

My Calendar, My Life

I've decided to use today to share with you how I organize my life. As much as I've always been a slob, underneath all the mess, I've always been quite organized. Flylady recently partnered with Cozi to make lives so much simpler (including my own!)

Now, in case you're wondering, I was not asked to share this with you, nor am I getting paid to do so. However, I needed something quick to post today, and thought this would be the perfect time to introduce this to you.

Since this video has been made, the site has been improved to include a meal planning system. That new system has actually been a lifesaver for me.

I encourage you to take a look at the video and maybe get inspired to re-organize your lives as well.

To sign up, click here.

My Born-Organized Sister

For those of us in the Flylady world, the term Born-Organized (or BO for short) stands for all the people that we hate. (And at the the same time, they are the people that we secretly wish to be). We all have one in our lives. It could be a parent, sibling, spouse or friend. For me, it's my sister.

As a little girl, she would drive me completely up the wall. We shared a room until I was seven. And as she is six years older than me, she was always the boss. She completely controlled our room. And I did everything in my power to make the room "my own" (read: mess).

She used to bug me about cleaning my toys, straightening up the closet, and getting rid of extra hangers.

As we got older, her "BO-ness" spilled over into her studies. She was an incredible student, and unfortunately for me, she set the bar way too high.

I grew up in her shadow. And even though I ultimately grew taller than her, I always felt like I could never follow in her footsteps. Guess what - I didn't. I became me instead :-)

The funny thing with Flylady is that it has taught me more about myself - things that I never realized until now. Things that make me unique. And I think I've finally grown into the Mom that I've wanted to be for a while now.

Now I don't want you to think that by writing this now means that it took me this long to realize this. I just am running out of things to write in the month long adventure...

Oy... what was my point again?

Oh yeah. Being born-organized is not something to strive for. We're either born that way or we're not. And if I were born organized, I think I would miss all my eccentricities that come with being me.

Day 5: Blogging Challenge

I remember as a young girl when I would be on a really good streak of writing in my diary. I was convinced I had to write every single day and keep it up. Of course, those streaks never lasted long and undoubtedly, I'd have a few entries that looked like this:

Dear Diary,


Nothing much really happened today, but I wanted to say hi.


Love,
Me


The need to write in my diary every night was definitely part of the perfectionist in me.

Working with Flylady has definitely helped me to tame my inner perfectionist. I no longer feel the need to write in my blog (or diary) every day. But on the other hand, my friend did challenge me. So I'd like to give you all an update on the cleaning and organizing of my home.

I started out my day like I didn't have a care in the world. That was why at around 9 am, a friend came by and found me in front of my computer in my pajamas. I quickly turned my brain on and asked her to stay. She said yes. So I threw on some clothes, went into my kitchen and had my friend park herself in a chair near me. I figured, as long as she's here, I can motivate myself to move.

It worked! I cleaned my entire kitchen, and folded the laundry! I was so proud of myself that I actually accomplished so much that I rewarded myself by taking my coupons and buying the books that I planned on buying this week.

Overall, it was a good day. I have a lot more to do, but I'll save something to do tomorrow :-)

P.S. This 30 day challenge is really putting a damper on my ability to come up with cute titles. If anyone has a clever title they'd like to see me use, put it in the comments.

Sleepless in the Sack

As a kid, I always heard the jokes about the worrisome mother. I never really felt like my mom was one of those. She wasn't the mom who made curfews or lots of rules. She never made any issues about where I was, or who I was with. I always figured that my mom simply didn't worry, and therefore, I never really got the joke.

I get it now.

As I'm writing this, it's 4:30 in the morning. I didn't just wake up. I've been awake for many hours. But I don't have trouble sleeping regularly. I go to sleep generally in the 10 PM hour, and I sleep until 6:15 every morning. It's a really good night's sleep and I always feel refreshed in the morning.

But tonight is different. And as a mom, I have gotten somewhat used to this. My seven year old daughter woke me up at around 1 AM and said that she couldn't sleep. So the first thing I did was let her cuddle with us. I assumed that we'd all be back asleep within minutes. (Or at least my husband would be).

While lying in my bed, I felt my daughter's arm next to mine. It was hot. Without even putting a hand to her forehead, I knew she was sick. The thermometer confirmed my suspicions. 102.5 - she was sick, all right!

I got up, got her some meds, a drink, and a bunch of kisses. Then I tucked her back in and she went to bed.

Now everyone is asleep except for me. Why am I still awake?

I have taken care of my daughter so she can fall back asleep. And I can't sleep.

I have checked on her again, in addition to her little brother, and still I can't sleep.

I have checked my email, facebook, and twitter.

I have caught up on all of my outstanding "Draw Something" games.

I have put in a load of laundry.

I have loaded and started the dishwasher.

I made 2 different long distance phone calls.

And I rested in my bed for 3 hours. Still I can't sleep.

I have become the mother that I never knew I would be - the mother that my mother has always been. And I finally understand her coffee addiction :-)

Lessons from a Toddler

My nephew is three years old. I know I'm a bit biased, but he really is one of the cutest people I know.

The other day, my sister shared a story about him that can motivate any flybaby.

When it was time for him to come out of the bath, the first thing he had to do was clean up his toys. Now, when we have to clean up in our own home, we end up singing the clean up song (made famous by Barney). But my nephew took his cleaning up to a whole new level. He made it into a game.



He took each toy individually and dance it over to the other side of the tub. It was his little way of saying goodbye to each toy.

Remember Mary Poppins' famous words? "In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. We find the fun and, SNAP! The job's a game!" (I first blogged about Mary Poppins here).

At only three years old, and probably without ever seeing Mary Poppins, this little boy has so much that he can teach us.

Now I just have to get my butt into gear and turn cleaning my kitchen into a game!

Driving Myself Crazy

I'd like to tell you all a little story. Once upon a time in a galaxy known as New York, my husband and I decided to uproot our family and move to Israel. For the most part, this move was not unlike the zillions of other moves we had done in the past. There were however a few noticeable exceptions. Converting our drivers' license was definitely one of those differences.

This was not the first move we had made that forced us to change our licenses. Our moves from New York to California (and back again) also required us to make the change. 

To fully appreciate this saga, let me take you back to when I was 16 and I first got my driver's license. The standard procedure in New York was to take a written test to acquire a learner's permit, and then a road test to get your license. I was lucky (maybe not that lucky in hindsight) that the DMV was conducting an experiment with a new kind of written exam. There were five questions. All the questions were regarding road signs. I got all the questions right. And I didn't even have to crack open a book! (Imagine that! Of course they ultimately went back to their original way of testing when a class of third graders passed this exam as well!!!)

After having my permit for three months, I passed the road test. 

Let's fast forward to our move to California. I needed to convert my New York license to a California one. The procedure was simple. I just needed to pass the written test and I'd be a California driver. So I went to my local DMV and fortunately for me, it was tiny with almost no foot traffic. I sat down with my exam, took the test, handed it in, and failed. I was so not okay with that. Thankfully because I was the only customer (and maybe because I took the time to make sure my makeup looked good that morning), the clerk allowed me to retake the test that minute.

I passed.

Fast forward another bunch of years and another bunch of moves and we've found ourselves in Israel having to transfer our licenses again. This time, I had to take a road test. My husband passed on his first try. I, unfortunately, was not so lucky. On my first try, the examiner failed all the women that day. On my second try, I consistently drove 10 km an hour too fast.  (My mistake... whoops!)

This is where I got into trouble. After failing the road test two times, I was required to take a written test. (Which is no simple feat). And after living here for one year, I was no longer able to drive using my New York license.

It's two years since I first started taking the written test and for the most part I behaved. I only drove if it was absolutely necessary or if I was staying local for carpools, grocery shopping and doctor visits. But two weeks ago, I got stopped by a cop. He threatened me with a ticket, a court appearance, and taking my car away. Thankfully, being a girl, I was able to turn on the waterworks and I cried my way out of everything. I promised him I wouldn't drive again until I had my license. 

The following day, I went to take the written test again. It was my ninth attempt. I had been studying all weekend. I had completely ignored my children for days. But thankfully, it all paid off and I passed the test. One test down, one more to go.

You've probably been reading this post thinking what in the world this has to do with housekeeping. And even more, what it has to do with the goal I set for myself yesterday. Well, let me explain.

It's two weeks later and I am completely housebound. It's very depressing. I can't take carpool. I can't take kids to their appointments. I can't go to the grocery store. I can't even take big walks with the kids since a cop stopped me for walking (saying he thought it was too dangerous for me to have the kids on the road...) So I've been staying home. I've been staying in pajamas. And I've been staying out of every room that has needed my attention. 

I had decided yesterday that enough was enough and it was time to do something other than stay in my beds with books and movies. I needed to get up in the morning, get dressed and have a regular day - even if I never went outside.

So I did.

Granted, I only managed to get myself dressed at 10 am, but I did get dressed. I did two loads of laundry. I emptied and then reloaded and ran the dishwasher. I washed another pile of dishes. I straightened up the living room. And I made myself a list of everything that needs to happen before Passover comes along.

I've decided that even though I can't yet leave my house, I no longer have to be driving myself crazy knowing I can't leave. If I take a few minutes every day, I'll be able to live in my own home, and enjoy it.

Master of Disguise

I remember as a teenager, I was the first in my class to have internet. I remember the night we all gathered around the computer as my Dad was setting up screen names for each of us. It was so early on, that we didn't even think to have original screen names. We used our first names with a single initial for our last names. We didn't even have to add any numbers to the end because we were using America Online before many people even had computers. It was a toy. We used the internet for trading jokes, going into chat rooms, and instant messaging - mostly with strangers.

A few years passed, and I started using the internet for things like research, and homework. I would email my friends and family. I even occasionally read the news, and surfed the web.

Slowly, the internet, the people using it, and the world around us started to change. I've noticed that more and more people have been using the internet anonymously. Meaning, that they have created fake twitter and facebook accounts so they can interact with whomever they choose, but without anyone knowing who they are.

They are using  mask - hiding behind their computers and afraid to show us who they are.

I started this blog anonymously. I was afraid of people seeing what I would write about them, and didn't want anyone to be hurt or angry with me. But the fact is, that nothing I write on here is a secret. If I have a secret, you can be darn sure that I wouldn't publish it on the internet for the world to see.

My blog is like my home. It's not perfect in it's appearance. It's not even all organized and put away.But it's all me. And I'm proud of that.

I'm Thankful for.... the End of the Day

I'm sure that reading blogs everywhere today, people with an American heritage are talking about Thanksgiving and all the wonderful things they are thankful for. People are thankful for their families, friends, homes, jobs or even video games.

But my husband is away. He has been for over two weeks and it will be another two weeks before he comes home. I don't live near any family, and as we're fairly new to the community, I'm not friends with any of my neighbors.

So today, I am thankful that the day is ending. I no longer have to deal with the kid who is really potty trained but still manages to get all his clothing wet. I no longer have to deal with the girl who absolutely does not pay attention to me whenever I ask her to do something. I no longer have to deal with the girl with the lice in her hair. And I no longer have to deal with the guest who came over, stuffed our toilet, and didn't tell me.

My day is over, and THAT is the thing I am most grateful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!

As the World Turns...

I hate reading or watching the news. For the most part I just find it disturbing and really insignificant in my life. I hate politics, I hate violence, and I find that I could go on and live my life without following what's happening in the world. My husband on the other hand, is a news junkie. He loves watching, reading and listening to news. He is up to date on the politics and policies of everyone all over the world. This works to my advantage. We have a great arrangement. If there is something that I really need to know about, he tells me.

Caution: Heavy Load

I had a breakthrough today. And I didn’t even clean or organize my house. I talked.

Every person goes through life with baggage. Sometimes it’s a designer handbag, and sometimes it’s a giant duffel bag that has been through a war. But every person has their unique baggage that they travel with.

I am no different. I have baggage. Its not pretty, and its extremely heavy. But I’m strong and I carry it with me.

This week I started to lose my grip. I felt as if I were being crushed by all the things I carry with me. And instead of letting go, I was depressed and would cry at the slightest touch.

Its important to my story that I tell you that I made a new friend this week. Maybe since our friendship is so new, I felt uninhibited when speaking to her. Or maybe its just the person she is. But she let me vent. And I feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders.

Of course I will continue to carry things with me, but now I have someone who will help share the load.

I guess you can say that I decluttered my mind.