September 14, 2009 | 3:59 pm

Me Me Me

Posted by Mihal Levy

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I envy those that think of themselves first.  There, I said it!  You know?  Someone who looks out for number one, not thinking about number two. Now, there’s a difference when you don’t have a number two in your life, and then of course you are looking out for you and you alone.  Are you following?

I know someone who does this with great ease.  She gets up in the morning and it’s all about her, all day, every day (and no, this person isn’t me).  I envy her.  Why?  Her biggest worries are what she is going to do, wear, and eat.  She has a number two in her life and in fact, a number three and four and a huge extended family, but it’s all about her.

I envy Mrs. #1 because her life is simple and okay, a little materialistic, and 100% selfish.  It’s not that I want to BE her or even be like her for that matter, but what intrigues me is how carefree a person like this can actually be.  Between Botox and teeth whitening appointments, she doesn’t really know what to do most of the time (and no, there is nothing wrong with caring for oneself, unless it becomes a little obsessive).  In fact, she often forgets that there is a family she has to take care of.  I envy the way there is never a care on her mind, even in the greatest of struggles and family dysfunction.  The gym?  Not for this lady.  Too much effort, and why?  There is always corrective surgeries and girdles to hide those extra inches or wrinkles.

I am the last person I think about after errands, deadlines, son’s activity schedule, chores, and hubby’s errands, deadlines, schedule and chores.  Then, I come in.  And by the time I do, I’m too tired to think about me.

Although I envy a carefree all-about-me lifestyle, I would never want one.  I couldn’t imagine life without my family and caring for them. I need deadlines, traffic jams, fleeting creative ideas and those that stick.  I couldn’t imagine life without love and pursuing what I love. 

September 10, 2009 | 2:02 pm

Happy Birthday To Me

Posted by Mihal Levy

Today is my birthday, and unlike Benjamin Button or Joan Rivers, I’m getting older.  Maybe if I keep telling myself that I’m not really getting older, it won’t bother me that much.

I remember when birthdays used to be fun.  Do you remember those days?  Party hats, ballerina cakes (even though I was never much of one), party favors and if you grew up in the Los Angeles area there was Farrell’s ice cream parlor.  Now the last remaining Farrell’s is out in Valencia and having become lactose intolerant doesn’t make for a fun time to be had there anyway.  (Sorry, was that too much information?)  Birthdays used to be fun, especially when you reached a milestone age.  Twelve/Thirteen: Bar/Bat Mitzvah.  Sixteen: driver’s license.  Eighteen: yay, I am an adult, or so they tell me.  Twenty-one: I can drink…legally.

Then, you hit the big 3-0!  After that, it is all down hill.  What milestone is left?  A shopping day at Ross devoted to me, discounted movie theater tickets, early bird dinner specials?  Come to think of it, it may not be that bad.  But, I’m nowhere near discounted movie theater ticket age, unfortunately.  When you are actually in your thirties…what’s there to celebrate?  A shift in face care products from “cleansing” to “age-defying?”  A rise in health insurance premiums?  I’ve thought and thought and thought about this.  So, I came up with a list of things I am celebrating.

Here is the list:
(Besides the obvious and clichéd “health, my family and friends, love…blah blah blah…”)

1) Still on the verge of preventative aging products and not actual anti-aging.
2) 30-second quick dry nail polish.
3) The moments I am able to use the restroom or shower at home with the door closed, not having to look after my son.
4) Chocolate.
5) The Swiffer among other quick cleaning products.
6) Tums for those things that I was able to eat…once.
7) Ben-Gay for strains from strenuous movement, like bending over or sleeping in the wrong position.
8) The many uses of baby wipes, long after my son has been out of diapers.
9) Online shopping.
10) The parking ticket that I got the day before my birthday - luckily it wasn’t another moving violation.

I’m off to celebrate with my family.  I celebrate them every day, as they do me.  Maybe it’s not that bad. 

 

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September 9, 2009 | 1:00 pm

Not a Groupie

Posted by Mihal Levy

Recently, my friends have been joining mommy groups.  Groups where moms and their kids get together for weekly outings and activities.  (How is that different from the play dates and activities I already have with my son and friends?  I don’t know…but I’m guessing that it just is.)  I don’t belong to a mommy group.  Maybe I needed to.  I, too, want to swap recipes, host Tupperware parties and join multi-tiered marketing schemes. I began to feel left out.  Something had to be done.

So, I did what any good mother would do, and researched the best of mommy groups out there on the internet, of course.

And there it was: www.meetup.com.

Meetup.com is a group heaven.  There are hundreds of groups to choose from anywhere in the country, and not just for mommies.  I was overwhelmed.  How do you choose the perfect one?  Then, I found one in my area.  “Star Trek and Space Exploration Group,” but thought that maybe I was getting off topic a little bit.  (How fun would it be to explore space, though?  Do they teleport themselves?)  So, I continued my search and found one that seemed to fit a little better.  I signed up for “San Fernando Valley Moms.”  (Because I just knew that we already were going to have a lot in common.  We were from the same geographic region, how could we not?)

I couldn’t wait to join.  I began imagining hosting Tupperware parties, buying scrapbooking supplies and earning my Gold Star sales executive pin in my new marketing group.  I couldn’t wait…but I had to. 

I filled out the questionnaire and clicked “join.”  A message appeared instantly: “awaiting reply from leader.”  So, I waited and waited and waited.  No reply. 

I double checked that my application was complete.  Yup.  Three pages all about me, my hobbies, my likes, my dislikes, my background, my opinions, my ideas, my life story and what I ate this morning for breakfast (I thought the last one was a little much, but answered it anyway -Lucky Charms.)

I couldn’t wait to hear from the leader.  I couldn’t wait to be led.
Two days later, it came…the email I had been waiting for. 

It read:

Your request to join The San Fernando Valley Moms Meetup Group
was declined.

The person who declined your request said:

Feel free to post your pic and re-
apply. 

A second chance?  Gold Star Executive of the month?  I decided to pass.  I’m actually glad I got rejected.  I know…that’s what everyone says when they get rejected.  But I REALLY mean it.  I’m just not cut out to fit into a certain group, and besides, I have way too many plastic storage containers already. 

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September 8, 2009 | 11:00 am

The Mommy Hour

Posted by Mihal Levy

The Witching Hour is a term that was once used to describe the hours when black magic was at its best.  It was later used to describe the time between midnight and 3 a.m.  I am now officially coining this time “The Mommy Hour.”  Nothing supernatural here.

The Mommy Hour, for me, is often the time between 9:30 p.m.-12:30 a.m. (give or take a few hours).  After tucking in my son, and often my husband, this time is used solely for Mommy.  The day belongs to everyone else. 

During this time, I usually get a call or two from friends on my cell or an email, so as not to wake up the rest of my household.  We don’t make small talk, we just stick to the facts and plan play dates for the week.  The call is short and sweet, so that we can each get back to our own time.  (Now if I can just fall asleep at a decent hour, so I can actually stay awake at these play dates, but that’s another story.)

I’m starting to think I might just be nocturnal and that sunlight actually hurts my eyes.  The only problem is that I have to be up at the crack of dawn when little man gets up.  Even though he heads straight to the TV, turns it on and pops in his favorite DVD, he still has a hard time frying eggs on his own.  (We’re working on this one, so that mommy can sleep in.)

According to my friends, The Mommy Hour is mandatory for the sake of the family.  If Mommy doesn’t have time to wind down, there is no telling what will happen to her family the next day or if breakfast will even be served.  This unwinding time also includes: cleaning up, preparing lunches for the next day, bill-paying, returning emails, opening snail mail and folding laundry, among other things.  I, however, like to focus on the other things: just sitting and staring at the walls (which I can’t do—I always need to be doing something and wall-watching doesn’t work for me), painting my nails (because who has time for a manicure, unless someone is getting married), taking a shower or bath (because, yes, some days we go un-showered).  Most of my freelance friends or On-The-Go Moms (a.k.a. Stay-At-Home Moms) use this time to work, paint, read, write and create. This is when I finally write without interruption, except for the occasional moments when I begin to drift off - other than that, I am good.  I really value this time, as I am sure many moms do.

So, after all the other hours of the day: the working hours, family hours, errand hours, avoidance of household chores and in-laws hours, etc….it is good to know that there is the Mommy Hour.  Now, if I could just stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

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September 7, 2009 | 12:59 pm

Jew Mama

Posted by Mihal Levy

What do you get when you take a secular, traditional at heart, artistic, modern, neurotic, cynical, creative, work at home, first time Jewish mother and all her experiences and observations?  Jew Mama: The Blog.

Not Jew typical mama blog, but instead an informative take on the exciting, seldom mundane, trying tales of motherhood.  If you are a mother, have a mother, know a mother or just want to read about the experiences of one, you’ve come to the right place.

I’m not perfect and don’t claim to know everything, but hope to share with you my opinions, experiences, observations, mistakes, and ideas on my journey of motherhood and hope that you will come along. 

-Jew Mama

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