I'm Pretty Sure This Is How Tiger Woods Was Raised

On Father's Day, Ben and I went over to my parents for a good old fashioned cook out. Beer brats, corn on the cob, potato salad, watermelon and ice cream.

Afterwards my mom and I were in such a food coma we actually sat in the living room with the old man to watch golf. Yes. You read that correctly. My mother and I watched golf. Bless my dad's heart as he tried to make it as exciting as possible for us. Little did he know we could have watched The Paint Is Drying channel and been happy campers. A food coma and vowing to never eat anything again for the rest of your life will render you helpless and at the mercy of such boring things as golf.

At one point, I sort of came to, and mumbled, "Wow. Mom. We are watching golf! It must be Father's Day."

Ben chimed in and said "I have watched golf before."
I said "Oh really honey? With Grandpa sometime huh?"

"Yeah. And then one time at home when there was nothing else on TV and you were taking a nap."
Oh. Yes. Ha ha. One of those days.

I'm anxiously waiting by the phone for Parents magazine to call and ask me to do a never ending series on parenting. The classy way.

Happy Dad's Day

Happy Father's Day to the best dad on the planet...



and to the rest of you fathers out there who might be a close runner up. Sorry but this guy wins, hands down.

Thank you Dad for reading "Winnie the Pooh" to me with voices, making your lap my favorite place on earth, teaching me how to drive while not yelling at me when I missed the driveway and drove up on the grass, for teaching me how to throw a ball not like a girl, and for just being there so Ben always has someone to make a Father's Day Card for.



We love you.

An Ode To Thy Bratwurst

Here in Wisconsin we take our German Sausages very seriously. So serious in fact, that we honor our brats twice a year in a festival known throughout the world as (queue the music) BRAT FEST!

If you look up the word "bratwurst" in Wikipedia you find Madison Wisconsin!

The city of Madison, Wisconsin, holds an annual festival billed as the "World's Largest Brat Fest". The four-day charity event sees tens of thousands of brats sold by "celebrity" cashiers, usually local television, radio, and government personalities. Brat Fest's self-proclaimed world record is 189,432 brats consumed during the 2004 event.

For all of those that don't live in Madison Wisconsin and aren't familiar with the insanity and gluttony that is Brat Fest, allow me to explain.

It first started many years ago as a very simple and diminutive affair. It was just a small stand with maybe one grill outside a local grocery store that sold brats and hot dogs for ridiculously cheap prices. It was something like $.50 for a hot dog and a pop and $1 for a brat and a pop.

My father loves my mother, Ben, myself and Brat Fest. In that order. It would be sometime in mid May and the man would all the sudden get this goofy grin on his face and say "You know what's comin' up don't you? BRAT FEST!"

Ben happened to be born over Memorial Day weekend. I brought him home from the hospital with my parents close by. Until my dad realized what weekend it was. This proud grandpa knew the one thing missing from this homecoming was brats. "Who wants a brat?!?" he said eagerly.

Ah yes. Nothing says I want a brat like just having gone through 12 hours of labor, 2 1/2 hours of pushing that resulted in an emergency c-section, spending the past 4 days in the hospital to now be staring at this baby who people tell me is mine but I'm really just waiting for his real parents to come and get him. But off my dad went. Because HELLO!?!? Brat Fest doesn't happen just everyday ya know.

Throughout the years Brat Fest expanded. Very slowly at first but steadily. Soon the little stand became a bigger stand. And then eventually a tent in the parking lot of this grocery store. Until a couple years ago when Brat Fest just couldn't handle it's awesomeness anymore and finally exploded into this!

Yes folks. It is a full on FAIR who's sole dedication is to The Brat! There are bands. There are rides. And there are beers tents (duh! It's Wisconsin! Hell someone sneezes in the summer and that's reason enough for a beer tent)

The gourmet menu is as follows:

Johnsonville Brat $1.50

Oscar Mayer Hot Dog $1.50

Double Johnny $3.00 "New This Year"(A Double Johnny is two juicy Johnsonville brats on one bun)

Boca Brat (vegetarian) $1.50

I hope I didn't send someone into cardiac arrest from just reading about the "Double Johnny".

We, of course, attended Brat Fest this year. It's actually a state requirement. Really. When filling out your taxes at the end of the year, you have to show a ketchup stain from your Brat Fest experience otherwise you get a penalty from the state.

Thank god I have until Labor Day to get rid of my brat baby. And lose the 20 pounds I put on just this weekend.

God Bless Wisconsin.

A Really Good Day

Sometimes there are bad days where everything goes wrong. Those days suck.

But then, just sometimes, there are days like Ben's birthday. Where everything goes right.

Where the temperature outside is perfect. Just a few fluffy clouds in the sky, no bugs, 72 degress with no humidity.

Where all your favorite people show up for the party.

Where you find an empty picnic table right by the playground in a very busy park.

Where the birthday cake melts in the sun but everyone laughs instead of cries.

Where friends and family are gathered together to celebrate a wonderful boy's birthday.

It was a good day. A really good day.

Happy Mother's Day - Take Two

Remember the time when Mother's Day came and went and I didn't actually say Happy Mother's Day to my Mom but just to myself and others on this blog.

Remember how I felt like crap? Especially when I read all my favorite Mommy Bloggers and they actually said thanks to THEIR MOTHERS! And they didn't have a picture of themselves and THEIR kid?!?!
Yeah. I remember that too.

So without further ado....

Happy Mother's Day to the most amazing and talented artist

to the most gifted gardener


to the MOST loving and generous Grandma

(she made this quilt, people! and has made one for each of her TEN grandchildren!)

and my best friend.


I love you Mommy. And I don't need a Hallmark holiday to tell you. So there!

Almost A Dancer

Last week as we were leaving the house in the morning, I was grabbing my workout clothes.
Ben saw me doing this and asked "Are those your dance clothes?"
Me: My what?
Ben: Your dance clothes
I laughed
Me: No they are my work out clothes. Honey, why would you think I have dance clothes?
Ben: Because when you come to pick me up, you and Grandma are always talking about your dance clothes.

I'm so confused and then, all of the sudden, a lightbulb goes off and I start laughing so hard I can't talk.

Finally when I get it together I get out,
"Oh Ben. We are talking about our Dansko's. They are shoes. The name of the shoes I am wearing right now is Dansko."
Ben: Oh.
And he laughs.

For one brief moment in time, my kid thought I was a dancer. Sigh.

Happy Mudders Day!

The boy lays his head in his mother's lap while she strokes his hair.

"Do you love me Mommy?"
"Ooh that's a tough one. Hmmm. (she laughs) Yes I love you. More than anything."
"Do you like me too?"
"Yes. Very much. You are my best friend."
"I don't love or like you."

The mother fakes shock with a sharp intake of breath

"APRIL FOOLS!"
"Don't you mean May Fools?"
"I love you Mommy. So much I can't stand it."

Happy Mothers Day to all the wonderful mothers out there.

I know mine will be great. Just because of him.

In Another Country Just 2 1/2 Hours Away

*I know this post is long overdue. But between chronicling my amazingly ugly days and destroying my son's childhood fantasies, I haven't had time.

Last week my mother and I went to Chicago where we celebrated my nephew Mendel's Upshernish and OY! What a time! It was full of nakhes and mitsve and mishigas! (translation for all you goyim out there) It was full of joy and good deeds and craziness!

I'll save you all the Google search. An Upshernish is when an orthodox Jewish boy reaches the age of 3, his hair is cut for the first time. This symbolizes the start of his formal Jewish education and the change from no longer being a baby but now a boy. In celebration of this great event, a big party is held where everyone gets a chance to cut a piece of the boy's hair.

This was Mendel's hair, three years in the making.

As many said "G-d must have been mistaken when he gave a boy this hair." Mendel's hair was truly amazing! Many of us were mourning the cutting of such beautiful locks.



(I don't know how he got the cut on his forehead. Neither does his mother. Hey, he's #5 out of 7, with the oldest child being 9. Give the woman a break.)

It was truly amazing to me that we were in downtown Chicago. Just blocks from Lake Michigan and Michigan Ave. You would have thought we were in Eastern Europe with all the men in their long beards, black hats and suits.

The celebration even continued the next morning as Mendel, with his cute new haircut, began his Jewish education, starting with the Hebrew alphabet.


It was a very joyous time and Mendel did great! We were all somewhat worried that he might freak out and not want to take part in any of this. But he surprised us all as he took to all this attention like peanut butter takes to Matzoh. (just a little nod to Passover...) Mendel was always a quiet shy child. It's almost like he was waiting for this time to come, to break out of his shell. I have a new found respect for little Mendel.

My sister and her family live in such a different culture, much of it I don't even pretend to understand. But one thing that I do understand is this is my family. My sister and brother-in-law have been blessed with 7 beautiful children and a community where they feel very supported and happy. So for that I am grateful. I will continue to support them all and be there for all my cutie nieces and nephews and their wonderful events to come.

Hippo Bird-Day to Ewe, Pop!

Happy Birthday Professor!

Thank you for being the BEST father...

And the best Grandpa anyone could ever hope for.

I love you wider than the ocean
and deeper than the sea
and more than tongue can tell.

Gettin' His (ice cream) Fix, Any Way He Can

Sunday night after dinner with friends, Ben and I were supposed to go to the grocery store as all we had in the house was popcorn, green olives and mustard. "Ben darling! Dinner is ready! We are having your favorite tonight! Mustard olive popcorn casserole. Or MOP as Aunt Shelly calls it"

But since both of us loathe going to the grocery store - hence the dire straights we were in - we chose to go to Dairy Queen instead. I do really like this kid.

On our way home with our ice creams clenched in our paws, Ben said "Grandpa and I used to come to Dairy Queen every time I had a sleep-over. We haven't done that in awhile."

I smiled and replied "Well you should remind him of that honey."

Ben thought and said "Yeah, I will do that tomorrow. We would go get a video and then go to Dairy Queen and get vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and then go home and eat our ice cream while watching the video."

Even typing this now, it makes me smile. Among many other wonderful things, my Dad is the definition of consistency.

I said "You know what? When I was little and Aunt Debby was at her piano lessons, Grandpa would take me to what is now Macy's but was then Gimbel's and they had a restaurant where the boys clothes are now. Grandpa and I would sit at the counter and have the exact same sundae. Vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce."

Then it dawned on me and I exclaimed "Hey! I think Grandpa is USING us to get his ice cream fix!!!"
Ben laughed and said "Yeah! He's scared to eat ice cream alone so he has to take us with him."

Whatever the reason, thanks Pop for the sundaes and the memories. For both Ben and I.

Another View of Camp Runamuka

Cousin Amy did a great job of getting the camp details just right.

Check it out at camp runamucka--next gen

(my hair still hurts from looking at that close up...)

Camp Runamukah - The Next Generation

Welcome to the Wonderful World of Camp Runamukah!

The Official Rules of Camp are as follows:
1.laugh often but not to the point of peeing in your pants (this rule doesn't apply to those campers under 2 years of age)
2. don't hit
3. go to bed late
4. get up early
5. share with others. Especially those shorter than you.
6. if you are a woman camper, eat a lot but with every bite say "Oy! I don't need this." or "wow, I can't stop eating. It's so good though. Ok, really, only one more"
7. if you are above 21 or one of our dear Israeli campers, drink as much of The Wine as you can. This helps to stay sane and dull the noise.
Other than that, Run Amuk!

Let me introduce you to some of the 2008 campers:
This is my sista from anotha motha, Amy.

Words can't describe how much I love and now miss Amy. We had such a blast together. Her wonderful husband Bo is probably the coolest husband and dad ever. On Saturday night, Amy, Bo and I went out for a "WILD NIGHT ON THE TOWN!!!"

We had one of the best meals I have ever eaten... but we were all so full from eating half of a cow that afterward, we just lumbered around the streets of downtown Seattle, stopped at one more place for a drink while they were closing and then ended up at club Ashkenazy (aka their house) for bed.

This is Samuel.

He is a dark chocolate version of Ben. They are the exact same age and pretty much the same person. They spent much of camp with their noses in their Nintendo DS's, talking about Club Penguin and making baby Naomi say things. They also have some seriously fantastic charade skills.

Then we have Talia Rebecca.

She has my name for a great reason... I LOVE HER! If I were to come up with the perfect daughter, this would be her. Will you take a look at those eyes? You can also count the freckles on her nose. She has 14.
Tali is also a great hairstylist. Look at my pretty do!

I know. You are so jealous. You should be. This picture doesn't begin to do it justice.
Soon after this picture was taken, however, she had to give me a new do because my hair hurt.
Not only is she the most breathtakingly beautiful girl, she also rocks! She plays t-ball, and wears the cutest things. She will put together a pretty dress with tights and then super cool black boots. Sigh. I miss Tali so. I wanted to sneak her into my suitcase but since the suitcase was already 50lbs which is the max, that wouldn't work. Plus her Mommy would miss her.

Last, but surely not least, we have our youngest camper. Naomi.

But you can call her "Nomi". She is delicious!!!!!!!!! She can't say her Y's so every Y word starts with a L. "Lah" "Lellow" Her little legs are so chewy I needed to take a little nibble out of them. I couldn't help it! She has one curl on her forehead and one on the back of her head. She is symmetrically curled.

To say we had fun in Seattle would be a gross understatement. In fact there was a point on Sunday night when I looked at "Nomi" and thought, "how am I supposed to live without this yummy baby and her caramel curls?" I did flirt with the idea to call the airline, push back our tickets, and call in sick to work for the rest of the week. But then I looked at Ben and knew that wouldn't have been fair to Ben who missed his stuffies and his grandparents badly.

Having a close crazy extended family is the best thing in the world. Amy and I have promised that we are not going to let another 4 years go by. We will have Camp Runamukah on a yearly basis. And possibly even a Madison edition this summer!

So dear cousin... this is now posted on "The Internets" so we HAVE to keep this up.

It's in PRINT.

Westward Ho!

A week from today, Short Stuff and I are heading out to Seattle for five glorious days to visit with my wonderful cousin and her amazing family.

Not only are they fun and cool as hell, they are all freakishly good looking humans!

As a friend of mine said "They look like they could be in a picture frame insert."

I hope they are ready for these Crazy Midwesterners.


Our mothers are identical twins however, you wouldn't know it from looking at Amy and I. But because they are identical twins, that makes us half sisters. Or so we have said for 35+ years.
When we were little and the families got together, it was insane! Twins sisters, plus all their kids, and their husbands in one house.
Therefore the parents called it "Camp Runamukah" As we would all Run-Amok. It was always wild fun with the week ending in a talent show and an award ceremony. Someone usually ended up in tears due to either not receiving an award or getting a mean award. Ah, those were the days. Nothing beats family, huh?

Even though we haven't seen each other in way too long but that doesn't mean I don't love her to pieces and am so excited for this trip!